MY PREGNANCY AND BIRTH DIARY

During my pregnancy I jotted things down as they happened, the ramblings of a mad woman some might say! It was to remember the little milestones, and the highs and lows, if it all went to plan and I could look back fondly. Now that our little miracle is here, I have eventually looked back on the 39 weeks of jottings. It only took me 39 weeks to get around to this, my notes were a rambling nonsense and it took some time to make sense of them… But I am so glad I wrote it down as a diary, I have already forgotten so much, not least any pain associated with giving birth!!

First trimester

We found out I was pregnant at around 4 weeks and rapidly reversed ourselves out of a trip to India (zika) replacing it with safer and closer Madeira. We were very lucky that the hotels we had booked understood the challenges and refunded. We were even luckier that Mr P has a friend in Madeira that owns two gorgeous 5* hotels (Quinta Casa Branca and Quinta Jardins do Lago) and hosted us at them both…

Most of our good friends guessed around this time but were too good to say anything… I drove to a black tie ball… We cancelled that trip to India… I wasn’t sailing my boat (known as the fertility symbol as I bought it a month earlier!)… And I made a pathetic excuse not to attend a cheese and wine party, because well – cheese AND wine, what could I do?…

At 5 weeks I saw my lovely community midwife for the first time – Charlotte. She had done her homework on my notes and knew the history. This was impressive as we’d moved out of Southampton and up to a village near Winchester and so had changed NHS catchment. Charlotte had already booked us a first scan for reassurance when we met. I saw her more than one would normally throughout my pregnancy which was such a reassurance. I loved the heart beat sound from her Doppler scan whenever I had an appointment. The first time, on 30th January was incredible. I had no idea I would even get to hear it and so I was doubly relieved I did and that there was still a heartbeat there.

At 6 weeks we met our pulsing kidney bean for the first time. At the early pregnancy unit they are so caring and gave us the reassurance we needed. We’d been through the sad side of this before of course, but something felt different this time. We told my boss and Sam’s boss straight away. We had the right support from the start. The responses melted my heart, others wanted this baby as much as us. At 6 weeks the scan photo was fuzzy but it showed the most important thing in the world.

Our holiday was straight after the scan. The time we spent in Madeira was very laid back (apart from one hike we did where I came to my senses just shy of the summit…). Plenty of RnR while we tried to get our heads round what was hopefully happening. So many bumpy cobbled streets, I remember one evening we were taken on a drive of the old town which was fascinating… But the bumping along meant I constantly needed the loo, as well as to sleep!

At our 9 week scan the little bean was 4 times longer than 3 weeks earlier, had the littlest arms and legs and was wriggling like mad. We were given a video and I still love watching it now. I said to Sam as we walked into this scan, that it being a secret we’d probably see someone we knew! Of course we did, and you know what? It chilled us out no end, it was nice to share the secret with a friend! We showed our parents the video on Christmas Day – the best present we could have given them. Although we had to explain what it was because we were born before ultrasound was commonly used!

At our 12 week scan the bean was a person – it took our breath away. Arms, legs, fingers, toes and even a wave! Hi Baby P! The 12 week scan is a pregnancy rite of passage for most. But for us it was monumental for it to be successful. The funniest thing was that our little baby laid exactly how I sleep, with its arms under its chin.

Low PAPP-A hormone levels were identified through tests done at this stage. The things I knew they were testing for were fine but with that ‘ok’ letter the NHS thoughtfully sent me another high risk letter telling me not to worry about this other thing we knew nothing about… Which is to do with a low performing placenta or umbilical cord, presumably given I was a ‘geriatric’ pregnancy. It was the most idiotic thing they did in the whole pregnancy. We worried and obviously googled because the letter arrived on a Saturday. A phone call to explain would have been the right thing for the NHS to do. Thankfully we had an almost immediate consultant appointment booked. I was borderline high risk from the test and the consultant was comfortable that they were scanning often enough already to monitor the placenta closely. I was high risk due to previous losses and thyroid issues, so this was just another thing to add to the list. I filed a complaint, perhaps that will save someone else the stress?

I was ridiculously tired throughout the first trimester. Actual tiredness or I was over-compensating with anxiety? Whichever, I was tired. Thankfully I didn’t suffer from morning sickness. With the right people knowing at work, I was able to deliver but without wiping myself out in the process.

Second trimester

Up until about twenty weeks, between appointments I had to get on with things and hope inside was going right too. Feeling better and more energetic in myself helped. I didn’t have a bump to show and things were pretty quiet inside! Just growing pains to get used to. I had to keep believing they were different to the ominous ones from before. As a result we told few people prior to 20 weeks.

At my 20 week scan we confirmed I was growing an acrobat. That was once I’d been sent off to the loo to empty some of my bladder as apparently I’d taken ‘full bladder’ too literally… That scan was amazing. We met our little boy. The sonographers referred to him as our son! I left them with a soggy pillow, Mr P shed a few tears too! It was incredible watching baby get on with his day of somersaults, oblivious to us watching outside. We had a full hours scan as one of the sonographers was training – there was no rush so we just watched, and I actually almost fell asleep as it was lovely, warm and comforting.

At this stage it began to sink in that this was the ‘normal pregnancy’ we’d longed for. A ‘baby on board’ badge went onto my coats for commuting and I started to tell people our nervous news. Suddenly it wasn’t our secret and there were lots of wobbly bottom lip moments as people congratulated us! Wobbly from nerves, but anxiously happy!

Even at twenty weeks, I still couldn’t bring myself to plan anything. I googled ‘what do I absolutely have to have before I give birth’ but the lists are endlessly long, one does not need 100 things on day 1. I have since written about what is actually needed. The avoidance of planning was because I couldn’t imagine what loss would feel like at such a late stage. And what it would be like to reverse things out of the house, or to have nobody to put in a car seat or pram. People questioned this… But it worked for me and gave Mr P plenty to do the morning after baby arrived…

It was around twenty weeks, just after my birthday, that I started to feel what I now know were kicks. Initially they felt like little internal farts but actually that was his tiny hands and feet! Once I knew what they were it was ever more noticeable. It was adorable getting to know the baby! I knew from the scans that he loved yoghurts, porridge and fruit almost as much as biscuits! If I sat in a reclined fashion on the sofa in the early evening we’d get the most surprising set of kicks of the day. He loved going to meetings, and responded vigorously to a couple of familiar voices at work! I always got a goodnight thump at around 9pm and a wake up one by 5am to remind me he was still there and to give him more space by emptying my bladder!

At this point my bump also started to show, we had a little birthday break away to Bath and there was this fab P light in the room which obviously created an amazing photo opportunity for Baby P!

With all this progress, my mind couldn’t actually take in how his little heart could ever just stop beating. That thought terrified me so I focussed on the regular thumping arms and legs of my busy baby! Thank goodness life continued to blossom and grow…

Even half way, when I could feel that life was good in my tummy and each day was another day closer to another week closer to fully baked… There were still days when anxiety still hit. What was that twinge – just a growing pain or was it something more? Had he moved enough on a day when I’d been busy and not focused on him? What if I couldn’t bring my baby home after he was born? What if his heart actually did stop beating, or the acrobatics got him tangled in the cord? Or the placenta failed and the cord stoped working. Sometimes it was next to impossible to do anything apart from wait for the next kick or prod from inside to know that things were still ok. Bedtime kicks were my favourite – they sent me to sleep with my mind soothed.

We had to get some serious refurbishment done in our home before he arrived. We’d been planning a big kitchen extension but had the good sense to postpone that. Instead it was plaster, paint, carpentry and carpet throughout the upstairs, which was really rather grotty from the people that owned the house before us. It seemed to take forever. It doesn’t fail to astound me why different contractors (who know and referred each other) can’t communicate with each other. I was so glad when it was done – because it looked fab but also because I felt like I was banging my head against a brick wall and was sick of making tea and collecting grotty mugs!

At 25 weeks I did my final work trips overseas. I’m so thankful that I was able to switch from frequent flying to picking the trips I was happy doing. A January flight just after my 12 week scan where the landing gear failed certainly made me question the necessity of in person meetings… That said, the last hurrah trip of 3 evening European flights in 3 days was excellent yet truly exhausting. But, I’m glad I did it. It was nice to finish the job that I love with a fun tour de force with my boss.

At 28 weeks it was fair to stay I was starting to feel like everything was going well. But life is never quite that simple. Because of the issues I mentioned above, we had many extra scans and were treated as high risk and in consultant care. At the 28 week scan Baby P was just under the tenth percentile for his weeks. The sonographer wasn’t particularly worried and was reassured with the amount of fluid and the performance of the umbilical cord and placenta from what she could see. But she wasn’t comfortable, wanting scans twice as often. We had a few days between the scan and the next consultant appointment to worry. The scan was hilarious though – as finally I knew what the little sensation I got so often in my tummy was. His hiccups. And of course when the sonographer went looking for a nice photo of his little face, he was hiding behind his hands! Thankfully the consultant appointment the next week reassured us he was doing just fine – I am tall and slim (her words, I’ll take them) so a small baby wasn’t unusual. And the blood flow to the baby was perfect. Calmness restored. The right explanation and experience made all the difference.

Third trimester

At 29 weeks we took Baby P on an incredible babymoon to Portugal. I loved it as much as did he. The hotels treated us like royalty and cooed over the bump. The bump grew as I relaxed in the warmth. I’m pretty sure not many people are pleased to find a lone stretch mark, but I was. Hello growth spurt! Mr P and I made the most of the RnR. We hadn’t told many people about the pregnancy, so taking summer holiday photos without the bump showing became quite a challenge each day!

And let me tell you, a good quality pregnancy massage is bliss – those night time achey legs were gone. It was so nice to be on a babymoon after so many years of wanting to get to that stage!

All too soon it was time to attend our NCT classes. We were nervous, of course. It’s a bit random sitting down with a group of people you’ve never met and discussing the most private things that are about to happen. But actually, it was a pleasure to meet other people that are at the same stage as you and compare notes and share experiences. It’s the first time we came across people doing the same as us at the same time and has become a support and friend network.

We had a 31 week scan a few weeks after our holiday and bump had definitely had a growth spurt. I could see it in the bump, but readings also said that he’d gone from somewhere below the 10th percentile to being up around the 50th. Well done Baby P, always nice to be in the middle of the curve! More good umbilical cord readings were reassuring. For this first scan in a while, baby did decide it was ok for us to see his face. Cute chubby cheeks and some thumb sucking. The cutest and most human things we had seen him do! Then he had the audacity to yawn…

At 32 weeks I decided to buy baby its first teddy (#teddyforteddy). And we also started discussing names. Whatever happened he was our son and needed some special things. It was scary making that first purchase.

It all seemed too good to be true, stuff continued to go as it should. We also took ourselves to John Lewis to choose a car seat and a pushchair system. OK, so we didn’t buy until a bit later on, but we were looking and planning. Having a car seat fitted into an Audi A5 convertible outside the store certainly raised some ‘are they fit to be parents’ eyebrows from passers by… (we now have an enormous practical car!) That shopping trip was a big moment – making the sort of plans that would have terrified me a couple of months earlier. I also gratefully accepted the hand me downs from generous friends that been offered months earlier. People were so kind, we were basically set up for the first few weeks so didn’t have to buy much in advance.

At this point it really did feel like I had been pregnant forever. October/November felt like a lifetime ago, and the start of the journey felt a lifetime ago. It is such a responsibility to be bringing a baby into the world and my body seemed to be doing it right this time. I was amazed with what it and I had achieved. As I overcame my anxiety, I came to love, cradle and talk to my dainty little bump. I crooned at it too driving the car to the station each morning! It was the best feeling in the world.

Our 34 week scan was a big event. We also saw the consultant at this point. The day before, baby had its most active day so we knew he was ok. Between 5pm and 9pm his movement just wouldn’t stop. Mr P often missed the major movements, but from about this point onwards, evening activity was unmissable. Even to the untrained eye! By now I had given up dreading scans and appointments – I would look at the screen expectantly instead! Roll back the clock 4 months and I would not have been able to imagine such a time! Anyhow, at the scan once again baby had hiccups and was still sucking his thumb. Better still, his measurements kept him in the 50th percentile and the cord and placenta were still working well. The consultant said those magic words – ‘we don’t need to treat you as high risk any more’. I had to trust them on that. ‘See you in labour’ she said as we left!

We’d not had a low risk pregnancy since 2014… Suddenly I had to write my own birth plan, choose how I hoped things would go. Rather than have planned interventions. Clearly we prepared for the best and expected the worst. I thought I wanted to be consultant-led, but actually going low-risk took away any angst in the days up until the birth.

As a result of the positive news Baby P got his car seat and base, a pushchair and cute new clothes. Mr P’s garage fondly became known as the baby warehouse – I still didn’t want things in the house!

At 36 weeks my midwife confirmed his head was down. I knew it was because I could feel hiccups between my legs! Because the head was down there was now space for feet to stick out just under my rib cage. Quite bizarre being able to tickle toes and feel the size of the heel. Cute for about half an hour, then downright uncomfortable! Thankfully he didn’t like to stay in one place for too long!

By this point I really wanted the baby to arrive. Everyone says enjoy the peace and quiet, as it’ll never come back. But this is 36 weeks and 4 years… Yes having nothing to do has its perks, but I’d have been happy if he had popped out at ‘full term’ 37 weeks! Every night when Mr P got home from work I’d drag him for a long walk across the fields to work my pelvis!

I didn’t think about the actual birth as it got ever nearer… Best not to dwell on physics and engineering!

One of my friends suggested we take a couple of days away again around the time I finished work. What a genius idea. Let’s face it, whilst neither of us could enjoy wine and I certainly couldn’t enjoy a lie in, it was still the last time in a while we could do what we wanted. As we already knew, baby likes fancy hotels so of course we took it to another! No shortage of babymoons for our little man! Having a dunk in the pool before breakfast as well as another glorious pre-baby massage was perfect for me. But importantly it was a getaway for Mr P too. I had time off work in the run up, but he was at work until labour started. Everything is always focused on the baby and me, rather than him, even though we’re doing this together. So lie-ins and spa treatments for him was just what was needed too.

Being the Dad to be must be pretty difficult. Mr P was as supportive as they come. He’s done up my shoes, cut my toe nails and massaged my legs and back more times than I can count! And fed me healthy food to go alongside my less-nutritious options and efforts! Probably the low for him was having to put my flight socks on before we flew home from the Algarve!

I noticed from about 35 weeks, that baby knew when mealtimes were for me… He liked to get in on them and stop me eating too much. Less food in my stomach means more space for him? I always sit up straight to eat and he did the same. But he was upside down, in a hand stand. As soon as I sat at the table a little heel would stick out under my rib cage! My tummy looked so odd as legs and bum would stick out on the right, with empty space on the left. So comfortable!

All through the spring months I was relieved to be having a summer baby as I didn’t had to navigate putting winter shoes, tights and socks on… Then the heatwave arrived. Oh my word, a wriggling 5lb hot water bottle with busy arms and legs in 32 degrees of heat was hard work! I was thankful that I could work from home when the heat was at its worst, and that I only got caught out by South Western Railway’s excuse of a railway the once… Mr P came into his own – he found a cooling body spray in Boots, moved the garden furniture around the garden seeking shade and ran cooling little footbaths for me as I languished with my portable fan!

And so we got to 37 weeks. I didn’t think I would ever get a baby to full term and yet here we were. Still cooking! And still a tiny bump. When people at work asked me when I was due they assumed the end of the summer… They didn’t expect me to say I was off on mat leave in a few days… I remember how many heartwarming emails I had when it was announced on a partner conference call that I was chairing. My secret had been kept until that point!

Maternity leave

I finished work at 37 weeks with some holiday to burn. What an odd set of emotions. I love my job, I adore the people I work with and I count myself very lucky. I’d been looking forward to stopping, having worked some long hours to try and get stuff done and not leave a pile of woe behind me… It was quite emotional saying goodbye to a few especially, as I won’t get to chat to them ten times a day anymore. I’ve been with this team and partners since quite soon after this ‘journey’ began. They’ve got me to where I am today! I don’t think I realised until I stopped work quite how lucky I am with my work tribe. So life felt a bit vacant for a while. I’m used to being indispensible (I like to think so) and dealing with other peoples issues and risks… Suddenly there were no issues or risks!

At our 38 week growth scan it was all good. We’d hit the ‘now we wait’ stage. And I hate waiting. Waiting after 38 weeks is tough, as everyone reminds you it could still be another 4 weeks… I wished baby would use those little feet to push on the rib cage and see if it could get itself into that birth canal!

One week into maternity leave and I was so very, very, bored! Everyone says enjoy having nothing to do and no one to need you. But it isn’t interesting. The heatwave was a massive hindrance too. I walked, baked, cooked, met friends for coffee, gardened, day tripped to London for my baby shower, gossiped with my boss, watered the plants (and the cows), spent time with my parents, tidied the freezer. I even washed and tidied the small amount of baby clothes and bedding that we had for the first few days. But going from being in demand at work to the most difficult decision in the day being whether to have porridge or a fruit smoothie for breakfast is surreal. I wrote the shopping list for after the birth too. It started with ‘car’ and then moved on to things like nappy bag, nappies, monitor, cot, chest of drawers… Mr P had detailed instructions on what needed buying from John Lewis after the arrival!

Looking at the week by week pictures above I can see now that the bump dropped between week 38 and 39! The picture just above was the last one of bump before it became baby a day later! Very compact all the way!

Baby P’s arrival

On 17th July things finally started to happen. I was bored so what a relief. In the evening we were out in the garden digging up the first of our home grown potatoes! I felt a little rush and wet knickers… Unusual! I waddled inside to go and have a look and still wasn’t sure. There wasn’t much to see but it didn’t smell like wee and I knew my pelvic floor was good! So I waddled back out to Mr P nervously… ‘Either I just wet myself or it’s begun’… A big hug and wet eyes! I called the labour line straight away. Lots of people get swatted away by them, but with my history thankfully they asked me to come straight in for an hour of heartbeat monitoring… Baby was fine and active and there were only very tiny signs of my contractions. No action was taken apart from to book us back in the next afternoon for another look if nothing had happened. Suffice to say none of us slept that night: the baby kept up his kicking and I lay waiting for contractions to kick off. Actually, Mr P slept, someone had to!

The contractions didn’t kick off! In hindsight I am glad, I don’t know how I would have coped on the 20 minute car ride with contractions and just some paracetamol!

So on the 18th in the early afternoon we bundled all my hospital bags back into the car and went for another session being monitored. There wasn’t any change to baby’s heart beat, activity levels (high) or my tiny contractions. Joe was the midwife we often saw when we had an appointment at the day assessment unit. He saw us this time and knows scared parents when he sees then. The day before they’d muttered about maybe sending us home for another night… But he sent me (escorted us actually, as I was a wobbly bottom lip mess at this stage) straight up stairs for induction.

We actually didn’t go straight into the birthing suite. As is very British, there was a bit of a queue… So we lazed around for a while and got a good doze in! That hastily written birth plan went right out the window! As we were escorted into one of the high risk delivery suites with every medical contraption you can imagine and no bath or sofa, Sam pointed out I hadn’t managed many days as low risk…

Thankfully shift change was at 8pm and we arrived at 7pm. The first midwife we saw had the good sense to ask when I’d last eaten… It was about 8 hours earlier by this stage… Turns out that you can’t eat if they are inducing you using a drip, so it was a good job she asked. Toast and jam was made in spade loads and I tucked in. Sam eyed up the snack bag I’d prepared for me… He was going to have a good night with that feast of sweets, chocolates, fruit and nuts!

At 8pm Emma got us started. Oxytocin was pumped into my arm and it chemically created contractions. Nothing happened that I could feel for hours and hours, even though the monitor showed things happening. The doctor stuck his head in and wouldn’t even give us a guess on when the baby might make an appearance, not even ‘today’ or ‘tomorrow’ or ‘the next day’.

Being plugged into a drip with continuous monitoring straps round your tummy means two things. The active birth that NCT classes recommended wasn’t going to happen, there would be no bouncing on balls. And going to the toilet involves sitting on a chair! Nice! Probably worse for Mr P as I suspect I whined a lot about all of it, I just don’t remember!

I know that I moaned a lot about the gas and air. I thought it was rubbish. All the sucking of it made me feel ill so I never got to benefit from the relief it is supposed to give. Sam on the other hand had a go and said it was great!

Many people don’t like continuous monitoring as if you move alarms go off… However I was quite happy to lie perfectly still and watch baby’s heartbeat for as long as it took. If it beats he’s ok. By this time I was getting contractions and had been told to press a button each time they started. We had to get 4 in 5 minutes I believe before I was allowed morphine. I loved the morphine, great pain relief, shame it didn’t last longer really! The first pain relief I had used in all of my pregnancy. At the same time I had a drip put in, they needed to give me more fluid to slow baby’s heart rate down. No idea how it worked, there were pipes and wires everywhere (including a pulse monitor attached to his head, go figure)… My constant watching of the constant monitoring showed the pulse settling nicely.

Our midwife was lovely, she knew the history and knew my anxiety and managed me so well. You get a lot of time to chat to them in labour, especially when it starts slowly like mine. I’m pretty sure that when things are in control they are there as much to give you reassurance as they are to deliver the baby!

On the 19th in the early hours I requested my epidural. I was in a lot of pain, all contractions are bad but enough doctor friends have told me the induced contractions are very sharp and unnatural (apparently I was lucky not to end up with a c-section). Turns out epidurals don’t always work, especially when they are done in a rush!… I demanded (I hope politely, but I don’t recall mincing my words) any pain relief going… Anything they could give me… Turns out the only trick up the anaesthetists sleeve was something called fentonal. A sedative. Basically it put me in a drug haze between contractions and I was woken up from this haze every few minutes to push! Mr P and I both had some good sleep during the later stages of labour as a result, although mine was pretty broken up and painful. That said I have very hazy memories of many (well about four I guess) hours of pain and labour so I think I did well to get a sedative that blocked the painful memories too! I remember vaguely an excruciating pain, but that it vanished as quick as I knew about it!!

At some point Emma announced that I was dilated sufficiently to start pushing. Another midwife Phoebe had joined her by now, she’d delivered a baby in the other high risk suite and so was supporting us until the end of the shift. She was definitely playing bad cop to Emma’s good cop. Basically they wanted to meet the baby before the end of their shift… I had an hour and I needed to push! It was the right kind of motivation for me, I wanted to meet him too! The strangest thing is pushing, you do just get an urge to push! And I did. Goodness knows what else came out too. Sam got dragged down to the business end to confirm that the head was visible when I flagged and asked with the midwives if I could please push hard a couple more times… I am fairly certain I turned pretty grumpy at some point, I remember begging for an intervention as I was focussed on his heart rate monitor and it was slowly dropping, but apparently they thought I could do it myself. I know that I had an episiotomy at some point in the final stages but by then I didn’t really care what was happening, I just needed the baby out and the pain gone!

Family Parker

And then boom – 7.40am there’s a baby on my chest. Our baby, our family. Amazing and surreal – meeting a little person that’s been burrowed inside you for 9 months, knowing you from the inside like no one else ever will.  The sedative thankfully wore off immediately – we were just happy and emotional and amazed. I don’t really remember the details. I know Mr P quickly phoned our parents, with a wobbly voice. We’d told them when the induction had started the previous night so they’d none of them slept either so needed the news quickly. After that there was a flurry of activity measuring and wrapping baby. Mr P had his first hold and then baby was back on my chest for skin to skin and a little bit of suckling that he managed by himself first time (I wrote about my nursing journey already). And we had honey on toast, which I still love to this day. Hetti the midwife that looked after us when Emma went off shift did well to find me honey as it’s like gold dust!

The people that helped with every moment I gave mentioned above, after the journey we had, I can never thank enough. Whether it was finding honey, delivering baby safely or looking after me for 9 months. They have my infinite thanks, the packets of minstrels we left for them only scratch the surface!

Anyhow, back to business… All this time my legs remained in their stirrups… So classy and elegant as the medical world ambled in and out of the room! The placenta didn’t oblige, it was keen to be a retained one! It’s only allowed to stay in for an hour before it needs to be taken out. Manually. So an hour of skin to skin time later, I was wheeled off to theatre and Mr P was left holding the baby… Great skin to skin time for him in the delivery room with the door open so he could shout to the nurses station should he need anything! The baby bag was still in the car at this point too!

I had a great time in theatre. I was high as a kite on drugs and I was telling everyone I was a mummy… And they gave me more drugs, this time a spinal block so that they could retrieve the placenta. Comedy moment was me trying to stand up with all the random pipes and wires and things (including an umbilical cord) dangling out of me… Finding my centre of gravity was something I wanted to do for goodness knows what reason. The theatre director had to hold me up until the ground fell away as the block kicked in! He was hilarious – he’s probably used to speaking to people high on drugs and delirious having just given birth, but he made the hour fly by, he also wisely said don’t look at the lights (they reflect what’s going on behind the curtain they put up)…

I also got sewn up in theatre which definitely sounds preferable to the stitches experience others have had. In my drug haze I did send someone back to check on ‘my family’ a couple of times (I expect I just wanted to say ‘my family’ and didn’t really listen to their report back), but its fair to say the stuff they’d pumped into me meant I wasn’t really too aware that I’d been wheeled away from them. Somehow I managed to get a cola ice pop as I was wheeled out, no idea how (perhaps I asked for a sticker) but it was lovely!

When I came back into the delivery suite there they both were… Gazing at each other. Baby came back to me and stared up at me and my voice. And he followed Sam’s voice around the room. He recognised us both by our voices! Amazing!

The rest of the day is a blur, we were eventually released to the ward and muddled our way along! Oh my goodness the ward, I truly wish I had taken ear plugs to block out the other people so I could have stayed in my bubble. Seriously, no one was taking any notice of their babies… They were on the phone, or watching TV… Really anything but showing an interest in their newborns! There was no sign of heading home that day because baby was 6th percentile by size which meant we had at least an overnight to endure in the sauna/ward as they checked his blood sugar and I fed him up!

The highlight of the ward though was the trainee midwives. They taught me all I needed to know about feeding, nappy changing and how to put on a baby grow. So helpful and so delicate with the baby. I went to them with questions as they wanted so much to help and make us new mums comfortable with our new roles for which we had no training!

My parents visited later that day as they don’t live far away (I asked them to get 96 nappies for me incase I ran out… The ramblings of a crazy drugged accountant). Later on, Mr P left his little family and headed home for a final night of peace at home! Exhausted but delighted. Leaving me with a baby in my care, and what at times felt like a phantom baby in my tummy! I’m not sure how well I slept that night. And if I needed the loo I made a mad dash so as not to leave baby too long. Baby slept well of course. I dozed but mainly just watched baby sleep – watching the little heels I already knew, his arms flailing around with the moray reflex and the chest rising and falling, rising and falling, rising and falling.

On the 20th Sam was up at 4am and readying the house and fitting the car seat… We were up too, well I was anyway. It was bliss to take a selfie (many actually) of me and my son and send it to Sam. Surreal and amazing. We were reunited again by 9.30am and eventually discharged by around 1ish after much badgering from Sam… A highlight of having Sam back in hospital was being able to leave baby with his Daddy and have a shower. After two days that was absolute bliss! The bed baths I’d had before the spinal block wore off weren’t quite what I yearned for!

Going home

When hometime came the real adventure began… What qualifications did we have for this?! Just working out how to fit the baby in the car seat was hard enough!! As we left hospital we saw one of my friends that had just had her baby, I love that baby met his first little friend before we even left for home!

The first night at home was hilarious! That was after an afternoon at home where he mainly slept and I mainly ate pate, smoked salmon and brie… Overnight, baby slept like a log and we took turns to watch him snooze, so nervous were we he would stop breathing! We actually rotated ourselves 90 degrees in the bed so that both our heads were next to the crib! Crazy but it calmed us and we could just peek a head up and watch him sleep peacefully.

On the 21st, our first full day at home as a family, we were awake before he was, waiting for him to wake. We watched the sun rise from bed with the baby on a blanket between us being cute! We named him on this day too and tried the name out at the village fete! He was youngest attendee and drew quite a fan club. It was such a treat to be out, and to be there with our baby and as a family. How I walked the 1000 metres or so there and back I don’t know… Adrenalin is an amazing thing!

Whilst I was anxious through the whole pregnancy there were bits I particularly cherished:

• Every time we heard his heart beat thumping away at a midwife appointment was the best sound.
• Every kick and wriggle. Not only is it the cutest thing I have known, even in the middle of the night or when the hiccups seem to go on for ever, but it is the best reassurance in the world to know there’s an active baby inside. I actually missed them when he first arrived!
• The first time I saw my tummy move. And the first time Mr P saw it. I’m not sure he believed me until it moved in front of him! Initially we had to squint to see it but from 30 weeks anyone sat in a meeting with me could see the little terror!
• Whenever I wandered past a mirror I was freshly amazed at what was happening to me and how my body managed to grow a human.
• I have never been so flattered by so many people saying I looked fab. This never happened to me before and I liked the compliments, whether about me and the fact I kept my figure (I do not know how, my diet was unconventional) or about my adorable little bump which people doted on.
• Realising just how many people were rooting for us to have our happy ending.

And what surprised me the most? Sadly I was amazed in a bad way that it was never another woman that would give up a seat on a train or bus for me. A sweeping generalisation and I apologise, but I do a lot of commuting, so it’s sadly well researched. If men see the badge, they offer a seat or to help with a bag. The rest of the time I felt judged for having a small bump. On one bus the driver saw my badge and that I was standing and said he wasn’t pulling away until someone gave up a seat… It took a while but I was grumpily given a seat, and I will let you guess who by…

I still have no idea how I actually did it. The birth especially, but the pregnancy too. I can barely remember labour or those final few painful pushes, I have a feeling it was worse than my active memory is telling me. Memories are vague and I obviously only really remember the happy ending now. And that is enough for me, that and being Mummy, Daddy and Baby!

And today he’s nine months old as well as 39+1 weeks, the same amount of time he was in as he has been out!

Even now, I continue to be amazed by the biology of how a little person grows from a fertilised egg. And the fact that we now have a tiny human who is nine months old living with us, someone that knows me from the inside out, that’s a bit of both of us and relies totally on us. Someone that is beyond gorgeous (even having got into his first scrape), can say Mummy and Dada, seems to sprout a new tooth by the day and charms everyone he meets whilst bum shuffling or crawling backwards cautiously about the place! I’m not sure I will ever get my head round it.