Totally Clueless

My pregnancy was nine months of ignorant bliss. By that I mean I really had no idea what parenthood entailed or how our lives were about to change. Everyone told me to relax and go and see plenty of movies and I never stopped to think about why. They said to get my hair cut and get a manicure and a have facial and to sleep, sleep, SLEEP! But I was quietly ecstatic and energetic and I wasn't about to become a pregnant frump. I have always enjoyed exercising and did so up until the very end.


Although long, those nine months were easygoing with no hurdles to jump. In December 2010, at the start of my second trimester, we took a holiday to New Zealand to attend a friend's wedding. While exploring the South Island, your dad and I attempted to walk 11km of the Routeburn Track over one day. I wasn't about to let pregnancy get in the way of a good time. Along the rocky ascent through Alpine territory (around the halfway mark) I feared I'd overdone it and visions of a helicopter rescue came to mind. We took  a long break and refuelled before turning around and eventually making it back to safety. New Zealand is such an amazing country and I hope to be able to take you there one day. 

As the months progressed I felt happy, happier than I have ever felt and I enjoyed the compliments of my peers and the kids at school and had even begun to warm to the belly rubs I received from strangers. During my sixth month your daddy and I drove to Yallingup for our first wedding anniversary. The picture above was taken in the grounds of a nice winery after a celebratory meal. I was all belly. The following month I jumped on a plane to attend your uncle Chris' wedding. It was so nice to spend some time with my family again.

I continued to go to my fortnightly check ups at the hospital. You would kick and move and we listened closely for your heart beat. You were a little jockey riding a horse inside my belly. As we left the maternity ward I would glance up at the photos of breastfeeding women and think how content they all looked. Six days before my EDD I went for a routine check up and an ultrasound was ordered. The scans showed that you were slightly posterior. I started to think more about the labour and became obsessed by the thought of pain. I know it sounds silly but I hadn't even thought about what we'd have for dinner on our first night at home. Instead, I spent my last days of freedom reading up on the use of stress balls, aromatic oils and visual cues for for drug free labour. I continued to exercise, even when my body craved rest. 

Soon your daddy's birthday came around and he went into work armed with two carrot cakes I'd made for him. At dinner that night in a local Malaysian restaurant I decided to order a spicy dish. We joked about whether it would set the cogs in motion. It'd been a long day ending with an aqua class and I was too tired for conversation. When we got home I asked your dad to help me undress as by this stage I was too big to bend over. When I stood up there was a big gush of water and a sudden pounding in my heart. 

After being admitted to a birthing suite  things moved along quickly. I hadn't had a chance to burn oils or squeeze a stress ball or even to do much walking but I was too zoned out to realise or care. I lay on the bed on my side and tried to  keep hydrated in between contractions. The TENS machined strapped to my back I held the control so tightly that after a while it became one with my hand. After the tenth hour I asked for an epidural but was told the anaesthetist was attending a C-Section. Although almost 10cm dilated I began to feel afraid and doubt began to set in. When the time came to push I  had neither the energy nor the will. An hour later a doctor was called in to do a small episiotomy and out you popped. 

The rest a blur. For the next two days I saw so many nurses and specialists and you were weighted and you fed and you slept. I was in pain but with your daddy's help I staggered to the shower and washed. My stitches killed me and I couldn't even sit up in bed. I didn't care about the nondescript hospital food or the instant coffee or even the white bread. I ate it all and I looked at you with feelings of happiness and sheer terror. I wanted to go home as the nights were lonely and the sound of you crying almost broke me. When you were three days old we left the cold floors of the maternity ward. It was dark and wet and we drove home ever so slowly.
                

Neither your daddy nor I slept a wink that first night. We tossed and turned in a state of delirium and when you didn't make a sound I leapt from the bed just to check you were still breathing. Slowly I grew accustomed to the sleepless nights, adrenalin kept me in check whenever sleep fell upon me and I was soon able to sit comfortably upright to feed you. I neglected to do my pelvic floor exercises and felt guilty. You fussed when you fed and you posited all over the place all of the time. At first I would change you after every accident but the novelty of clean clothes soon wore off. The couch was my best friend and I breastfed and ate there most every hour of every day. Occasionally I would get up to go to the toilet or to check that there was still a world outside. If I got a shower in occasionally I was having a good week. You cried a lot during those early months. I had no idea how to make you stop but with time it passed and you got better. It took a good month before I could stop and look you in the eye and appreciate how beautiful you were. To this day I wonder how I survived those first few months.

You and I (with my trusty burp cloth)
Approx 1 month old