The arrival of Hugo

This time last week it was finally beginning, after 10 days of waiting the contractions were starting for real. And in just over 4 hours I was holding my baby boy in my arms – all 4.35kg or 9 pound 9 ounce of him.

It was definitely one of those ‘worth the wait’ moments as the overdue angst of the past almost 2 weeks were washed away, along with the fears I carrried about this labour and my unborn child.

I think birth stories are either a ‘love them or hate them’ type thing, sometimes diminishing into ‘this happened’ and then ‘that happened’ type affair that does nothing to capture the specialness of the process and the moment, so I won’t go into the ins and outs of the whole labour and birth. Continue reading

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Happy birthday to my boy

Oh what a year it has been! A year ago I had just been through the most exhilarating, yet challenging experience: giving birth to my baby. When the midwife passed him through to me via my husband who proclaimed ‘it’s a boy’, I cried tears of relief, exhaustion, happiness and love.

It was a 33 hour journey to that point. Of labouring at home for a night and most of a day, of labouring in my birth centre room in water, on balls, in shower, while lunging, swaying, kneeling, squatting: every position under the sun. Of continual vomiting, when I thought there mustn’t be anything left. Of fleeting urges to push that disappeared, leaving me feeling like my baby would never arrive. That I would be pregnant forever. Of transferring up to the birth suites to get things sped up with a syntoxin drip and some much needed fluid. A decelerating heart beat and suspected distress, that had me put into a gown for theatre only for my baby to get the all clear just before they could wheel me off. Of finally feeling that real urge to push, and pushing for 1 hr 40 minutes to meet him. He was strong and muscular with a loud cry and a head of dark hair. It was instant. I was besotted. Continue reading

And so it begins

Here I am finally able to blog for the first time in more than a week. I feel like I have so much to say – all on divergent themes and topics, the things that have been rattling around in my head during the week that saw me nursing a sick and clingy boy, trying to juggle two busy days at work following disturbed sleep, spending time with my mum who was visiting and finally escaping the nest for two whole nights for a work trip to Townsville. My first two nights away from Jarvis since he arrived. There is a blog post there particularly. But it will have to wait as nostalgia takes precedence here tonight. To get there, we have to go back to the beginning.

The night that labour began. It was a stormy and rainy Monday, it felt just like tonight. The stretch and sweep of that afternoon did its job and the pain started in earnest. I would glance up at the clock each time it started. 10 minutes turned into 5 minutes in a matter of hours and I thought that maybe just maybe, I would meet my baby tonight. Tonight, one year ago. Continue reading

Fresh baked Friday

Another week passes, another trip down memory lane. This time a year ago, I was two days away from my due date.  I was experiencing all the mixed emotions that all first-time expectant mums go through. Excitement. Fear. Disbelief. Impatience. That ‘any day now’ feeling would accompany me to bed at night as I thought about whether tonight would be the night I would feel the first twinges of my baby starting to make his entrance into the world.

A lady in waiting. And it seemed so were all my family and friends. One friend in particular, my oldest and best friend, was awash with excitement and would come over every Friday of this waiting period, since I’d finished work three weeks earlier, laden with baked goods from the very lovely bread shop near her house. Fresh baked Friday had begun! Continue reading