baby!
Ok. I've been trying to type this for the past couple of weeks, but I keep getting disturbed before I can finish it. So I am going to post this today no matter what (and that's what's going on if this post seems abrupt or ends in a weird place). I had my baby! Labour and and the past two and a half weeks have been amazing and tough. The baby is (naturally enough from my point of view) the cutest, most brilliant thing in the world. Taking care of a small baby is unbelievably tough. I found breastfeeding painful at first, but I've got the hang of it now. It's demanding though. We have had loads of guests around and that has been nice, but a bit tiring too. I've been out of the house a few times since he was born, but I still haven't quite got the hang of the military operation of getting him ready to go out and I'm also a bit shy and awkward about feeding him in public (I'm surprised that I am, I didn't think I would be, but I'm sure I'll get over that). I haven't tried to do a nappy change out of the house yet either.
Labour... hmm, how much detail do you want about that? I wanted to try to do it as natural and drug free as possible, and that's how it went for the first 11 hours or so of labour on just gas and air. He was very nearly ready to be born on the morning of Saturday the 7th. They could see his head and I still had enough energy and was pushing well they said. However, then the baby got into distress and his heartrate dropped. I was soon starkers in a theatre with loads and loads of staff around me, Mickey put into scrubs, I got an epidural put in and they prepped me for an emergency section. I was ok, and making jokes with the staff to keep my mind off what was probably coming, but poor Mickey was terrified and thought we might both die. They didn't do the section in the end, but I ended up with an episiotomy and they used forceps, which resulted in me and the poor baby being quite banged up. He was born with a black eye and a bruised/scratched head and face! I remember seconds after he was born seeing his two beautiful eyes looking out of his blood streaked face as I looked down, before he was whisked away to be checked over. Luckily Mickey was there so he was with him for that bit. I was given him back after a while (it could have been 10, 15 or 20 minutes - I don't know) and held him on my chest while they stitched me up.
Anyway, it all worked out in the end. I'm not upset that I ended up with intervention at the end. I believe they did what they felt necessary, and I'm recovering fine from it. The worst bit actually was not the cut and stitches, but the constipation, which I think I would have ended up with after a vag delivery anyway, forceps/cut or no. I stopped taking painkillers for the stitches two days ago (it will take six weeks for the cut to completely heal, but it feels a lot better now, and I'm hoping cutting out the pills will get rid of the constipation, which I can honestly say has been worse than labour).
The main thing is he's healthy and happy. He doesn't seem to have any ill effects from the birth and is looking great now. All the staff were brilliant and amazing. I will not hear a bad word about the NHS after that experience. I met a huge amount of medical staff in the 4 days I was in hospital, and every single one of them was great.
I haven't really tried to get my life into any sort of a routine yet. I will do so when the guests go away. Mostly I've just been in my pjs all day, hovering around the baby, and feeding and changing him. I only managed to read a bit of a (non baby-related) book for the time since his birth yesterday. I hope from tomorrow on I might start trying to do a bit of gentle exercise, and maybe try to bring him to some clubs or classes - there are free baby massage, stay and play sessions, and even zumba with a free creche at the local childrens centre.
We called him Séamus Gerard. The Gerard was necessary rather than something we like, since both his grandads are called Gerry. He is known as Shéamie, chicken man, chicken bun, burrito - although he's stretching out now from his original fetal/chicken type position.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
Poor little burrito with his black eye.
The hospital was St Mary's at Paddington, hence the bear.
Labour... hmm, how much detail do you want about that? I wanted to try to do it as natural and drug free as possible, and that's how it went for the first 11 hours or so of labour on just gas and air. He was very nearly ready to be born on the morning of Saturday the 7th. They could see his head and I still had enough energy and was pushing well they said. However, then the baby got into distress and his heartrate dropped. I was soon starkers in a theatre with loads and loads of staff around me, Mickey put into scrubs, I got an epidural put in and they prepped me for an emergency section. I was ok, and making jokes with the staff to keep my mind off what was probably coming, but poor Mickey was terrified and thought we might both die. They didn't do the section in the end, but I ended up with an episiotomy and they used forceps, which resulted in me and the poor baby being quite banged up. He was born with a black eye and a bruised/scratched head and face! I remember seconds after he was born seeing his two beautiful eyes looking out of his blood streaked face as I looked down, before he was whisked away to be checked over. Luckily Mickey was there so he was with him for that bit. I was given him back after a while (it could have been 10, 15 or 20 minutes - I don't know) and held him on my chest while they stitched me up.
Anyway, it all worked out in the end. I'm not upset that I ended up with intervention at the end. I believe they did what they felt necessary, and I'm recovering fine from it. The worst bit actually was not the cut and stitches, but the constipation, which I think I would have ended up with after a vag delivery anyway, forceps/cut or no. I stopped taking painkillers for the stitches two days ago (it will take six weeks for the cut to completely heal, but it feels a lot better now, and I'm hoping cutting out the pills will get rid of the constipation, which I can honestly say has been worse than labour).
The main thing is he's healthy and happy. He doesn't seem to have any ill effects from the birth and is looking great now. All the staff were brilliant and amazing. I will not hear a bad word about the NHS after that experience. I met a huge amount of medical staff in the 4 days I was in hospital, and every single one of them was great.
I haven't really tried to get my life into any sort of a routine yet. I will do so when the guests go away. Mostly I've just been in my pjs all day, hovering around the baby, and feeding and changing him. I only managed to read a bit of a (non baby-related) book for the time since his birth yesterday. I hope from tomorrow on I might start trying to do a bit of gentle exercise, and maybe try to bring him to some clubs or classes - there are free baby massage, stay and play sessions, and even zumba with a free creche at the local childrens centre.
We called him Séamus Gerard. The Gerard was necessary rather than something we like, since both his grandads are called Gerry. He is known as Shéamie, chicken man, chicken bun, burrito - although he's stretching out now from his original fetal/chicken type position.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
Poor little burrito with his black eye.
The hospital was St Mary's at Paddington, hence the bear.