It’s official! I am the mother of an 8 year old. Seriously 8. It has been 8 years since I lay in that hospital bed with my little 5lb 3oz baby girl. She is my eldest and my mini me. She is smart, polite, caring and an incredible little girl.
I find myself smiling everyday as I watch her crazy ways of life. She is loud and entertaining yet shy and quiet at the same time.
Today she woke at 6:20am eager for her birthday celebrations to start. After school we will be heading to McDonalds once again for her birthday tea with her brother, cousins and her best friend.
If I could freeze time and stop her from growing up I would do it in a heartbeat. She is at a lovely age. The age where they still believe in magic and fairy tales but also at an age where you can have a more grown up conversation with.
When it was LM’s birthday I did the birthday interview, now it is BG1’s I am doing the same.
My big girls birthday interview – aged 8
Who is your favourite person?
What is your favourite colour?
Pink & Purple
What is your favourite television show?
Whats your favourite cereal?
What do you want to be when you grow up?
Whats your favourite book?
Where do you want to go on holiday?
What would you spend £1000 on?
What vegetable to you hate?
What would you wish for?
Lots of money
What’s your favourite ice cream?
Vanilla and chocolate
Who is your biggest hero?
What would you like to get to do before your next birthday?
How old are you?
Whats your favourite thing to do?
Whats your favourite food?
What do you like to do as a family?
What is your favourite toy?
What makes you happy?
What makes you sad?
I don’t really know what makes me sad
What do you think about when you fall asleep?
Living in a castle
What is your favourite song?
Justin Beiber – sorry
What scares you?
I don’t really know
What is your favourite animal?
Whats your favourite dinosaur?
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We are back, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for part 2 too long. But here it is, my continued story of the birth of my third baby – the labour. If you didn’t read part 1 you can catch here.
arrived at the hospital.
We arrived at the hospital in one piece. The Hubby was waiting at the entrance. He opened the door and helped me out of the car.
We headed into the delivery suite where the midwife was expecting us. My mum was still a nervous wreck as I lay on the bed.
The midwife confirmed that my waters had broken. This led to a spiral of visits from consultants, doctors and paediatricians.
I began to feel unwell. Lying down hooked up to the monitors did not agree with me . The paediatrician began to explain all the procedures that would happen if I went into labour now. I on the other hand couldn’t concentrate, I was going to be sick. I became hot and irritated asking to stop and have the monitors removed.
I was sick at that moment, the poor paediatrician apologised for giving me too much information and scaring me. He didn’t, I knew what would happen if I was to go into labour at 28 weeks.
The Doctor’s didn’t stop coming in. I was examined and swabbed for a test to see if I would go into labour in the next 24 hours. Then came the dreaded steroid injection. If you have ever had one of these I feel your pain. They are nasty, they go right into your leg muscle damn those things.
The midwife came back shortly after to inform me an ambulance was on it’s way to transfer me to a bigger hospital. My local hospital aren’t equipped for a baby under 32weeks.
My dad arrived with my hospital bag just as I was settled into the ambulance. We decided I would travel to the hospital on my own (and the midwife of course). There really was no point my husband and mum following. It was at least an hours drive to the hospital and it was already getting late in the evening. By the time we would get there and settled it would be the end of visiting hours. Plus the kids where at home and they hadn’t seen either of us since this morning.
As we were travelling to the hospital, the ambulance wasn’t gaining speed like it should be. So we had to pull over in a lay by and wait for another ambulance to arrive. It was at this point that I thought it was definitely the right decision for my mum not to follow, she would be freaking right about now.
The ride to the hospital was fairly quick. The midwife and paramedic were very chatty which is probably why the time passed quickly.
When we arrived I was shown to a delivery room, I had arrived on a busy night and I’m not quite sure they really knew what to do with me.
Once I was settled the midwife that came here with me said her goodbyes and left. I was now under the care of a new midwife in a hospital I wasn’t familiar with.
The midwife took some blood and put a cannula in my hand. She also brought me a sandwich, cup of tea and biscuits. I was so glad, I hadn’t eaten since lunch at 12 and it was now 10 o’clock.
alone and forgotten
This was basically the last time I would see anyone for the rest of the night. The midwife had warned me this may be the case as they were busy. But to buzz if I needed anything.
I made a quick call to the hubby for a little bit of reassurance and comfort before saying goodnight.
It was no good, I wasn’t going to sleep that night. I tossed and turned the entire night. I rang the hubby again at 7 o’clock that morning to make sure he was awake and getting the kids ready for school.
By 9 o’clock I began to cry. I really felt alone and forgotten. The mix of being in a different place, not sleeping and hunger had taken over and had me crying.
The midwife did eventually came to see me and brought breakfast and a brew. And the added bonus of more swabs. Shortly after I was moved to the maternity ward to a room shared by one other woman. It was peaceful and my roommate was lovely.
The hospital was really nice, completely different to my local hospital. The food was actually edible to start – dare I even say the food was nice!
tour of the nicu
I was there for a few days having more tests and visits from the doctors. I called the hubby and kids everyday – it was too far for them to visit everyday.
On the day the hubby did get to visit we had a tour of the NICU. The nurses where lovely and showed us around. The unit was quiet and dark with the soft sounds of machines beeping and babies sleeping.
They had arranged for me to have a scan to measure how much water I had left. This was downstairs in the maternity unit with all the expecting mothers. I was escorted there because I had no clue where to go and was directed to the waiting area. I sat there alone in my hubbies oversized t-shirt and sweat pants. Not a pretty picture, I did however manage to brush my hair. The sonographer measured the water, there was none. Nothing left for her to measure.
When Saturday arrived I was visited by a specialist to discuss what would happen next, she arrived early around 9 o’clock. She explained that some woman go as long as full term with little waters as long as they are monitored for infection. I could go home tomorrow and I asked when I could return to work. She laughed and said I can’t go back to work, I was to be on bed rest.
After she left I went toilet, I hadn’t been for a few days and started to feel uncomfortable but still I couldn’t go. For the next hour I visited the toilet to try and get comfortable.
I wasn’t in pain or having tightening’s but I had the urge to go to the loo. I remember that feeling when I had my first baby. By 10 o’clock I buzzed the midwife and she popped me on the monitor. i was beginning to get tightening’s and more uncomfortable by the minute.The girl I was sharing a room with had her sister visiting who timed the monitor for me.
After 10 minutes the tightening’s were every 2 minutes and getting closer, as I knew that once labour starts I deliver fast I thought it best to call the midwife again. She asked me to walk to the exam room so I got out of bed and followed her. I felt the urge to pee so took a detour to the toilet. I was bleeding heavily.
Once in the exam room I had a scan to check the baby’s position, before I was wheeled to the delivery room waving to my room mate as I passed.
Once in the delivery room I bled again -a lot. The doctors felt it was best to move to the theatre in case I needed a C-section. They were concerned that my placenta was still low.
the end is near.
Once in the theatre a large team of Doctor’s and Nurses filtered in and everything is a little hazy after that.
What I do remember is the Doctor yelling at me to push. And then…
A foot appeared. My baby was a footling breach. At this point the doctor instructed the nurse to get the gas and air. The mask was placed over my face as the doctor reached up and pulled the other leg out as it was stuck.
We all know the head crowning is the most painful part of labour. The feeling you will be ripped in two never leaves you. There is no difference when having a breach baby, that head hurts like hell.
At 10:45 am the midwife called my husband to tell him I was in labour.
At 10:45am at 29 weeks exactly my baby was born. Afterward the doctor apologised for yelling at me as the nurse put me on a drip because I lost a lot of blood.
My wrist was hurting. I looked and it was swelling up.
” Is that normal?” I asked the nurse.
“Nope” She replied.
The cannula wasn’t working and the fluid sat in my wrist. That one came out and a new one got put in the other hand.
it’s a boy!
The Doctors worked on my baby in the corner of the room. As a nurse came over.
“Congratulations it’s a boy!”
I gulped “A Boy? Are you sure?”
She double checked. “Sorry, Your right it’s a girl.”
As they wheeled my daughter I could barely see her, apart from the green knitted hat they had placed on her head, and the plastic roasting bag she was tightly snuggled in.
I was wheeled back into the delivery room where I called my husband. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was in the car on his way with my mum. He so didn’t want to miss the birth, but hearing me put him at ease. He had imagined losing me or our daughter our both during the labour. While on the phone the midwife popped in to let us know our baby weighed a tiny 2lb 10oz.
An hour later my hubby, my mum, my dad and the in laws arrived. I was still hooked up to an IV. At the same time they arrived so did my lunch.
Now I don’t know if you have had a cannula removed from your hand but afterward it was tender. I had three removed from one hand this week. Every time I put my hand down by my side I got a painful throbbing sensation in it, I had to keep it elevated. The other hand was attached to the IV and I couldn’t reach the food.
This is where the hubby comes in use. I asked him to feed me. Now when I imagined my hubby feeding me my lunch I envisioned him lovingly and adoringly giving me small delicate mouthfuls. WRONG! He shovelled heaped fork full of cottage pie in my mouth before reloading and trying again while I still had a mouthful. My vision ruined I gave up and just asked for the ice cream instead.
Once I had eaten, the hubby, my dad and the in laws went in search of food while my mum helped me shower.
I don’t care how old you get you will always need your mum. She has helped me in the shower after every birth and this one was no different.
The tribe arrived back from lunch and it was time. I was sat in a damn wheelchair and taken to the NICU to see my baby girl.
She was tiny. We were warned her skin would be really sticky but it wasn’t. She was perfect. She was covered in wires and tubing equipment to breath for her.
I placed my hand over her entire body and that would be the beginning of our NICU adventure.
Do you still want more. How about checking out the first time I held my new baby here.
When you first find out you are pregnant so many thoughts run through your mind. Most of them excited about the long road ahead.
With this birth story I will be back tracking and taking you back right to the beginning. Where it all started, when I found out I was pregnant.
It took 18months to conceive my son, so we decided early we didn’t want to wait to try for our third in case it took as long with our third. Turns out it would take longer.
Isn’t it just so, when everybody seems to be pregnant when you are trying to have a baby. Maybe you just notice them more. I remember throughout the three years trying for a baby this person was pregnant, that person was pregnant; everyone seemed to be pregnant but me. On the odd occasion I would go home to my husband crying because yet again it wasn’t me.
I lost count of the number of people who said to me ‘but you have two beautiful babies, be thankful for what you have.’ I AM grateful for what I have thank – you. Let me tell you now this is the most disheartening thing you can say to a woman who desperately ants another baby.
If she has other children she is fully aware of how ‘lucky’ she is that some ladies don’t have babies at all. But it makes the pain of not having that next baby any less heartache. She doesn’t need to be told how lucky she already is. And the same goes for ‘just relax, if you stress too much it won’t happen’. I am fully aware of this however, you try having this huge want, need for another baby and it isn’t happening. Let’s see how stressed you get. Some people should learn to keep their mouths shut; trying for a baby can be a touchy subject. (That’s my rant bit over).
However after the second year of trying for a baby had past, I had learnt to be thicker skinned about it all. Just smile and nod. I no longer let it get to me, I was happy for those around me who were blessed with expecting a new baby. Not that I wasn’t before, but I no longer went home and cried.
We had moved back home with my parents by this point, so it wasn’t the right time anyway.
It was coming up to three years trying for a baby and that hit me pretty hard. I decided to give searching the web for help again before going down the doctor route.
I came across a few forums on netmums I think it was, about vitamin B complex. So I bought some vitamins along with trying to conceive multivits. I was hoping it would help with regulating my periods more, losing a stone had already helped a little.
Sure enough four weeks I started spotting so I stopped taking the vitamins and the spotting stopped with it. Guess it wasn’t going to work.
A few weeks later I started feeling unwell, feeling sick because I was hungry, feeling sick because I had eaten. I couldn’t win.
I spoke with my sister in law and she said she had been feeling similar. However, a week later and I was no better. I jokingly said to my sister in law, ‘hey I’m probably pregnant’. She was unsure if I was joking or not. Part of me was joking however, the other part of me had a feeling it wasn’t a joke.
I mentioned it to my husband and he told me to find out for sure and get a test. I did, eventually order a test from Amazon three weeks later.
Part of me didn’t want to get my hopes up. If I didn’t pee on the stick I wouldn’t be disappointed again so I left it as long as I could. My period was nothing to go by as that would make an appearance anywhere between six and sixteen weeks. I was still feeling ill so I had to bite the bullet.
When the test did finally arrive I didn’t wait and went straight to the toilet.
When the stick came up positive I couldn’t wait to text the hubby a picture.
My pregnancy went well; I threw up in bushes on the school run, fell asleep at inappropriate hours, and had heart burn from the moment I woke to the moment I went to bed.
I loved being pregnant this time around. I enjoyed my first pregnancy, my second I hated every second. But I loved my third. I don’t know what it was but this pregnancy just suited me, despite the sickness and heartburn.
The time was flying by, probably due to the fact I was about eleven weeks when the stick turned positive and about fourteen weeks we told family.
My 20 week scan approached and we were excited to find out if we were going t have a little girl or little boy.
At my 20 week scan the sonographer had a good look around; the baby was in an awkward position. She had to push fairly hard t get in and around the baby to take all the measurements. We did however find out we were expecting a girl. We also found out that I had a slightly low placenta, and I would need further scans in the hope it would move up.
The excitement oh having a little girl had us skipping out of the hospital. We decided to keep the fact we were having a girl to ourselves, just me and the hubby. We did almost slip a few times.
After the scan we went home to chill on the sofa.
I bent over the back of the sofa to pick something up. I felt a kind of pop sensation and immediately needed the toilet.
I went to the toilet and the colour drained from my face. I was bleeding, a lot. The sonographer had warned me I may have a bleed, I did not expect it to be two hours later.
Back to the hospital we go.
I spent the night in hospital and sent home to take it easy.
The next few weeks were busy. We had just bought our first home, it was the summer holidays and we had to get the house ready to move in by the end of the holidays. The entire holiday was filled with decorating and packing.
We moved in to our new home just before the ids went back to school. We had to live off microwave meals, salad and anything else we could make without a hob and oven.
We had been in the house two weeks before our oven fitted. We still had to wait a further 24 hours to use it.
The electrician came back and gave us the all clear to use the oven. Hurray! I set about making a cottage pie.
I managed to persuade my sister to come over in the afternoon; she played with LM while I set about cutting the onions for my cottage pie.
I was half way through my onion when I needed to pee and couldn’t stop myself. I ran to the toilet and the water still kept going. Either I had lost all control of my bladder or my waters had broken.
I called the midwife and she asked to see me at the hospital for an examination, as I was still losing water 15 minutes later the likely hood of my waters have being broken was high.
I was calm and collected. My mum on the other hand was a total wreck, I did offer to drive the car to the hospital, and I think I had a better chance of getting us there in one piece.
My water’s were the first thing to go to indicate my labor with my first pregnancy. I was 28 weeks pregnant and on my way to hospital, possibly about to have my baby.
Little Man was due nine months after my wedding day. Coincidence right? Not really, We had wanted another baby for quite sometime, BG1 was only six months old when I came off the pill (not sure it was worth me even starting it). I have always wanted my children close in age so this seemed reasonable.
However as with many things, it doesn’t always go to plan. It took eighteen months before I finally fell pregnant. It was suggested to me to try the clear blue fertility monitor (this is the newer version) by my uncle, after him and his wife had used one.
I got to a point where I was desperate for another baby, BG1 was two and was no longer a baby. We decided to just go for it, if we fell pregnant as a result it would be well worth the money.
I waited for my next period and started to pee on sticks daily, the days ticked bye and nothing 14…15…16…17days went by and still not a Dickie bird 18…19….20…21 still nothing. I was beginning to think I just don’t ovulate. Day 22 of my cycle and a little egg appeared on the monitor. Woohoo! I was ecstatic, probably more than one should be at a sign of an egg, but it seemed to take forever. So it is determined I ovulate late, no wonder we weren’t getting pregnant.
Even more excitement followed a couple of weeks later when the other little stick showed up positive.
My pregnancy progressed nicely, I had a bigger bump than I did with BG1 – which was pretty much none. I had a huge amount of heart burn, the sleepless nights, sore boobs, most typical pregnancy ailments, I had them. At twenty-eight I had a glucose test (totally not a fan and almost threw my guts up). Thankfully it came back normal, I did realise that the pee tests were showing glucose when I had eaten something sugar before going to bed and going toilet a large amount of times in the night.
At 32 weeks I was given steroid injections due to BG1 being early. I was expecting LM to be early too. That was far from wrong. He held in there until thirty-nine weeks on the dot.
Early hours of a Wednesday morning – 2am – my partner had been to a party and fell asleep on the sofa, I crept downstairs to wake him to come to bed. At 2.15am I felt a sharp pain in my lower stomach, it was an unusual pain and seeing as I was so late in recognising I was in labour with BG1 I wasn’t going to take any chances.
Low and behold five minutes later I had another one, this time it was more distinguishable so I made my way to the toilet (notice a theme with my births – the toilet is always involved). It was then that I had my show and I knew for definite this was it. I text my mum to pick me up, and made my way to wake the Hubby. He wasn’t to happy that I woke him in his still intoxicated state, but he knew he would get an earful.
Within a space of fifteen minutes my contractions had gone from 5 minutes apart to only two minutes apart, they were getting closer with each contraction.
I sat down on the bed to put my socks on, however I was met with an excruciating pain shooting up through my body. I was unable to sit and lay back on the bed, knowing I was not going to make it to the hospital I urged he Hubby to call the labour ward, this baby was coming.
At that moment the tribe that are my family strolled through the door. My mum being there at my first labour heard me from upstairs and instinctively knew I was not far from giving birth. She instructed my dad to call the ambulance as she and my sister came to help me.
The hospital was on the line with the hubby instructing him what to do while we wait for the midwife. The 911 call centre was on the line instructing my mum what to do.
Apparently I screamed a lot! I didn’t think I was that bad, but when three people tell me I was then you can’t really argue.
I was scared to push, I was not ready for this baby to make it appearance. I remember telling my mum to F**k off when she touched my legs. I was extra sensitive during this labour.
My Dad and middle sister left us to it, they stayed well out of the way waiting for the ambulance and midwife.
…And ends in a flash!
Hubby was running around finding towels. He happened to go past the bedroom door as Lm slid out. My mum literally had to stop him from sliding off the bed.
Lm was born at 3.05am. My mum and little sister helped deliver him, my husband almost missed it. BG1 woke up at the same time, I remember standing at her gate saying ‘ is my brother borned now’. Even now she will mention that evening vividly in her mind and say ‘All the doctors were at our house when LM was born in your bed’.
The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and the midwife shortly after that.
The hubby set about making every one a cup of tea. While I was being attend to by the midwife.
I had always planned a home birth with BG1 and that never happened (read her birth story here).With LM I had planned a hospital birth and surprise surprise that never happened either.
Little man had to be monitored as his temperature was low so the midwife was going to come back at 8.00am to check on him.
Once the medical staff left I couldn’t wait to get in the shower. While I was in the shower my mum got baby dressed, cleaned the bedroom and changed the sheets.
It felt amazing after my shower to climb into a clean bed with fresh clean sheets a cup of tea and a new baby to snuggle.
The midwife did eventually come back and little man’s temperature. Still it was low so we ended up going into hospital for a night stay to be monitored.
Yes that was a bummer. The best part of a home birth is your own bed, so I was a little disappointed to have to leave the house.
Although it was unexpected and unplanned I would still have another home birth. I was planning on a home birth with my third baby, but once again that never happened. But one day maybe I will get my planned home birth.
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My beautiful Baby girl. At least she was; now she is my beautiful Big Girl. Some days I still find it hard to believe that she is seven. It still feels like yesterday those two blue lines appeared before my eyes.
She is my eldest baby, my first baby. No matter how big she gets she will always be my baby. Even if she does always say ‘mummy I’m not a baby anymore’. She is to me.
I also remember all too clearly the day she came into this world. The day my life changed forever, the day I became a mummy.
Let us begin a few days before I gave. I went to my aunt’s house. She took one look at me and said ‘Char, your lips are puffy! You’re going to have that baby in the next few days’. I just last yeh okay. Now I always had a feeling I wouldn’t go the full 40 weeks, I myself was born 4 weeks early.
However when my waters broke 3 days later I wasn’t expecting to be in labour this early.
12.15am Tuesday morning, (I was 35weeks and 5days) I coughed! Yes, I coughed and I wet myself – or so I thought. I couldn’t believe it, my bladder control had completely gone, and I had wet myself how embarrassing.
I felt quite a bit of pressure in my bottom a few minute later and still not realising my waters had broke I went to the toilet. Thinking I was constipated I was sat on the toilet for two hours before I even thought it could be labour.
I went in to wake my husband (at the time boyfriend). He was not that much help, he wasn’t sure if it was labour either and told me to wake my mum. We were living there at the time.
My mum, as she does panicked. It was too early and she was worried about it. Now luckily we lived next door to a paramedic, who my parents were really good friends with. My mum sent my dad over to knock on his door at three O’clock in the morning. Bless him he came over to check me out.
He was presented with me sat on the toilet, still convinced I was just constipated. So naïve.
I travelled to hospital via ambulance with my partner, arriving at 3:45am. My parents followed closely behind.
I was already 8cm dilated. My mum and partner was in the delivery room with me. My dad was in the waiting room asleep across the chairs.
My mum, wiped my forehead for me. She was there by my side and did what she needed to do to help me, but not interfering.
My husband! I was so impressed with my husband. Even though he was nervous, he didn’t show it. He held my hand as a twisted it into awkward positions. He calmed me! He spoke to me and was only focused on me, and I listened to him. He was the only voice I listened to. The midwife told me to calm down, and slow my breathing down, I didn’t listen. My husband told me to calm down, and slow my breathing, I listened. He breathed along with me, making me follow his pace. He was brilliant. I later found out that he had spent the past few months watching birthing video’s at work.
My baby girl was born at 5.03am. I only go to hold her for a few minutes. She was weighed and I guessed her weight correctly at 5lb 3oz. She was shortly after taken too the special care baby unit (SCBU) as she needed a bit of oxygen.
So that was it, I was finally a mummy. I remember closing my legs quickly when giving birth, my daughter came out with a crooked nose and bruised face because of it, my mum ended up holding onto my legs.
My mum helped me shower after giving birth. I remember her saying ‘oh, isn’t she lovely?’ I immediately said ‘No, did you see her face she looks like a wrinkly bulldog’. She then agreed with me and said ‘well I didn’t want to be the one to say anything.’ It sounds awful that I thought my baby girl was ugly, however a few hours later she looked more normal and beautiful.
We spent the next three days in hospital before coming home. I struggled in the beginning; I didn’t feel like a mum, I didn’t feel like I was bonding with her. But after a few weeks that all started to kick in and I was able to bond with my baby girl.
My beautiful baby girl that is not a baby any more.
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