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
Yesterday, I read this lovely piece on pregnancy by Lori over at Random Rantings of a Stay at Home Mum. By the end I was a bawling mess, on the couch in front of my laptop.
I had to comment. In my comment I referenced the above pregnant pic of me that hangs on Jarvis’s bedroom wall.
I love this photo, it was one of many taken by my talented friend Leonie Clark when I was about 34 weeks. A little over a year ago. For a while, when Jarvis was younger and I was struggling to make sense of his facial palsy diagnosis and trying to reach a point of acceptance, I would sit feeding him in a dim light on the sofa bed beneath this picture and I would cry. I would look up at this picture and wish I was still that innocent. That hopeful. That I could still hold him within me and protect him from what else the world might throw at him. Continue reading
The post was becoming a thing of beauty – well to me anyway – juxtaposing the imagined thoughts of 80s one hit wonders Dexy’s Midnight Runners after C’mon Eileen became an international smash hit with my current emotional state – fearing a similar fate; that of a one post wonder.
And then technical glitch hit, the post was gone, replaced instead with a solitary letter r.
At first I tried resurrecting the post – but this only frustrated me. The train of thought nuances were now lost to me having spilt out on the page previously.
So now all that remained was an emotion, the reason I started writing the post in the first place. Behind all the witty references to dungarees I was scared. Scared of being a one-post wonder.
As My boy with the Crooked Smile became one of this week’s feature posts on Aussie Mummy Bloggers I was both happy and fearful – what if I never write a post that resonates with as many people as that one?
What if? What if? It’s the ifs in life that hold us back.
What if I never write anything that resonates with people as much? It really doesn’t matter. What matters is what I do now. Do I believe its a foregone conclusion that I don’t have anything else worthwhile to share and stop now? Or do I feel the fear and do it anyway?
Feeling the fear and writing about it, I feel the pressure valve release. Which reminds me why I’m doing this anyway.
Exactly nine months ago today, I was three hours into learning about my baby boy.
To say I was in awe was an understatement. My body had been through its biggest challenge; 41 weeks and three days of pregnancy and 33 hours of labour to bring me my most precious gift; but little did I know then that my biggest challenge was still to come.
Despite hearing stories from fellow mothers and reading a few books on parenting, I really had no idea of what life was going to be like with a baby, particularly a newborn. I didn’t yet know how I would feel when my baby screamed constantly, how I would survive sleep deprivation and how I would deal with his facial palsy diagnosis. I was excited and scared all at once.
Over the last nine months my son has taught me alot and if I was able to whiz back in time and whisper in the ear of my new mother self, I would tell her these 10 things: Continue reading