Week 52 – 21/07/16
So there we have it. The 1st birthday done. My baby is now a toddler. We celebrated in style with a brilliant bbq garden party we affectionately named Padfest, which was a roaring success.
53 people came in the end which was way more than we had ever hoped would come, and Pads had the best day (as did we). There was a ball pit, a tiger tunnel to climb through, a toy lawn mower that makes sounds to push along and practice walking with, Pads had his own first mini guitar to twang and a whole host of instruments to bang and shake and make noise with which we had bought him for his birthday. Along with a lot of scrummy bbq food, of which Pads had mini sausages (he prefers them without the skin on fyi), a little bit of hot dog bun, a handful of Mediterranean veg cous cous, some spoonfuls of cheesy potato bake, his very own special birthday carrot cake baked by yours truly, and my new favourite 2 ingredient dessert, banana and choc chip ‘ice cream’ – basically just blitzed and frozen bananas but it tastes so creamy and naughty! (Honestly, try it, it’s fab). He also tasted his first piece of chocolate this week as he is a one year old now and unsurprisingly, he loved it!
Needless to say he slept well that day and all through the night, and for the next two days after all that food and stimulation and a lot of socialising with babies and adults alike! The hot weather has now scuppered our excellent run of sleeps however.
Pads is a very lucky and loved little boy, that was very clear to see, and he got so many amazing pressies including a wooden rainbow dragon puzzle, fab clothes to see him through to his next birthday, a ride-on tractor that he absolutely loves, a beautiful wooden ride-on dumper truck that is a work of art, lots of fun books, a lot of truck and tractor toys (this seemed to be the theme of the day now we are country dwelling folk!), puzzles, musical instruments, a cute pull along dog and much much more! I told you he was lucky, and our family and friends are super generous and lovely.
Thanks to everyone who came and made Padfest such a fun and special day for all, it was certainly a day we will remember forever and thanks to the wonders of camera phones, so will Pads! Next year will be bigger and better so watch this space!
I held it together most of the day too as I was kept busy making people feel welcome, doing tours of our new cottage and tending to Pads. It wasn’t until the early evening when I was putting a very worn out Pads down for the night that I had time to sit and reflect on what a monumental milestone him turning 1 was. I had a gentle weep, whilst cradling my baby (he will always be my baby), just to say goodbye to the baby era and to welcome in the toddler times ahead.
I have loved getting to know my son over his first year, helping him grow in more ways than one, and to reveal his personality, and learning how to be a parent myself. It hasn’t always been an easy journey, parenting just isn’t easy is it? But it has been one that I will never forget and that has changed me for the better. I wouldn’t change a thing about my little man’s first year, well except maybe being able to move into our cottage sooner!, as it’s what has made him the confident, fun and loving chap that he is today.
There have been many many highs and of course a few lows. Here’s my review of Paddington’s 1st action packed year, in no particular order.
The Good and the downright great
1. Giving birth, and the huge sense of achievement that came with doing it without an epidural in the end (not through choice I hasten to add – see below for more on that one), and with my life partner and hubby right by my side. I have never loved my husband more than on Paddington’s birth day.
2. Making some great new mum friends through baby groups and reconnecting with some old pals that are now mums, that I reckon, and hope, I will have for life – you know who you are and you are amazing and our shared experiences and your support and availability have been so important to me. I have loved getting to know your babies and little ones too and hope we continue to meet up, swap stories, share advice and let our babes play together and continue to form cute little friendships.
3. Experiencing some really fun baby classes and groups, from Baby Sensory to Sing and Sign, Baby Acorns local new mum support group, Water Babies swimming and my personal favourites, The Daisy Foundation Tinies and Wrigglers classes which gave me the confidence and tools to really interact and play with my son from a very early age and has absolutely helped shape him into the sociable and confident little guy he is now. I loved my Daisy experience so much I may have some exciting news to share with you soon….
4. The first time Pads smiled at me, it looked a bit like a wonky grimace and may have just been wind, but it was the first hint of his personality to come and he hasn’t stopped smiling and laughing since. Our most frequent comment from strangers and passers-by is still ‘what a happy little fellow he is’ or ‘isn’t he a joy’ and yes, he most certainly is.
5. I am especially proud of how Pads has settled into nursery and his grandparent days. They obviously love having him but it’s clear that he loves spending time with them too and they are building a really special grandparent/grandson relationship that is so important. He is a real hit at nursery too. He often gets comments in his day book saying what a happy little fella he is and how he has laughed and babbled away merrily all day, playing with everything and everyone with such vim and vigour. That’s my boy!
6. The first time he rolled over and crawled and pulled himself up onto the furniture and walked with his walker, basically whenever he has learnt a new physical skill – he has always been such a physical, determined little soul, wanting to be on the move from the very start and very impatient to learn, and I love this about him. He has such a tenacious, fun loving and committed spirit that just rubs off on you.
7. The way he always, always used to kick his legs furiously when laying on his back like an energiser bunny! And in the bath which caused great hilarity as he soaked the floor, the walls, me and usually Jon too! Bath time has mostly, been a lot of fun, after the first few attempts which he hated!, full of splashing and floating and playing. At the moment he has decided he doesn’t want to bathe unless I go in with him, but I must admit I enjoy our little tub time and skin to skin bath boob as much as he does and if it gives him more confidence in the water, that’s fine (plus I get a nice early evening splash about and cool soak too – particularly lovely in this hot weather)
8. The smell of his head as a newborn, and to be honest, even though it doesn’t smell quite as sweet, and almost vanilla like anymore, it is still one of my favourite smells in the whole wide world. I love to nestle my face into his hair and rest my cheek on his head. Just lush. Do you think he will always let me do this?!
9. His face. It isn’t just me on this either, he really is a seriously cute and good looking boy and when he smiles I just melt. From his sparkling blue almond shaped eyes to his big milky teeth and cute little button nose, I could, and do, stare at his gorgeous little face all day long. He is going to break hearts this one.
10. The adorable way he has always sucked his thumb and the gentle soothing sucking sounds he makes. I have always loved this and love that we never had to use a dummy – for a lot of people they work really well and I have no problem with them, but I am happy we never had to try to use them. His thumbs seem fine too, one isn’t any bigger than the other yet, and if he gets comfort from thumb sucking and can self soothe this way, I am all for it! Besides, his dad did it until he was 10 and he has good thumbs!
11. The first time he made a sound other than crying! He now barely stops babbling or making the cutest Chewbacca style gargling noises. And he is loud! I love that he has so much to say and is forming little made up words all the time from ‘bunga bunga’ to ‘gavunk’. It really sounds like he is trying to say ‘hiya’ at the moment too so we are encouraging that! He has always been very vocal and has loved experimenting with noises and levels of volume etc. He is an all in kind of guy with whatever he does and I just adore that quality.
12. The way he snuggles in for cwtches now with his head tucked in between my neck and my shoulder and his arms and legs wrapped tight around me – sometimes I wish we could just stay like that forever but then we would never get anything done! He holds me particularly tight like this when I drop him off and pick him up from nursery and it’s so hard to break free from that adorable little snuggle because I just don’t want to.
13. The way he reaches his arms up when he wants to be picked up or wants a snuggle and the way he gives a big wet open-mouthed, occasionally nibbly little kiss on my nose, mouth or face in general. These kind of moments just make it all so worthwhile. I also love how he clambers all over me playfully and instigates play cheekily. He just loves to feel close and be connected to people. It’s such a great way to be Pads, never lose that!
14. Learning to breastfeed efficiently and comfortably. I am super proud of both of us that we made it to a full year of breastfeeding together and I am hoping we can continue to at least 18months if that’s what Pads wants to do and I reckon he does! It wasn’t easy and requires a lot of effort and perseverance on both sides but it has been so worth it for both of us.
15. Booby bonding in general has been a highlight for me. I love that I can give him something that nobody else can and that we have worked at it and seen it through. I love our booby bonding before I drop him off at nursery and when I pick him up, and just before bed. It’s just a very quiet, peaceful and loving time between me and my son and it’s something I will treasure forever and feel so privileged to have been able to do.
16. The way he now asks for booby milk by cheekily tapping at my chest or tugging at my top. Subtle Pads, but pretty funny all the same! (I do wish he wasn’t so fascinated in my neck mole though as he is forever tugging at or pinching it during a feed or when he hasn’t seen me in a while and it hurts!)
17. Seeing the world through my son’s excited and fresh eyes – he has taught me to slow down and smell the flowers and shown me what is really important and what really isn’t anymore. I especially love taking him on walks and watching his face light up when he sees something new or fun or spots a bird or animal, and the way he now points at anything that excites or interests him or that he wants. He is a good little communicator even without words yet!
18. His laugh, oh my days his laugh – it’s just delicious and I will do anything to hear it over and over again. I am happy to play the fool any time to get a laugh out of my boy. He is cheeky with it and definitely has a wicked sense of humour forming.
19. Watching my baby grow and develop physically as well as socially, from having very little hair to growing his luscious thick blonde barnet, and seeing his tiny, skinny little limbs plump out into the healthily chubby and gorgeously rolled ones he has now – baby thighs are just so darn cute aren’t they?!- to seeing him learn new skills, from not being able to grip a thing apart from my finger when he was first born, soooo cute!, to wrapping his tiny hands around his rattle and now holding and throwing/banging/ripping everything so confidently and assuredly. Every new development and skill learnt has been an honour and a joy to be part of and I have especially loved watching his character form and show itself so strongly. He is quite a dude already.
20. The way he constantly babbles and sings away to himself in the car or at home or to strangers, in fact most of the time, his happiness and wonder are infectious. If I could bottle it, I could retire early.
21. Our evening sleep routine where I sing our two special lullabies to him as he feeds and cuddles into my arms or chest and gently falls asleep (not always of course and not without a lot of persuasion often as he is just so into everything and hates missing out on anything!), but it’s still one of the best parts of my day to just be still with him and holding my baby in my arms helping him to rest and relax – it makes me feel all kinds of lucky and blessed to be able to do that every night.
22. His feet. I have always loved baby feet and Pads has some cute ones (especially good for playing ‘this little piggy with’, which always gets a fantastic chortle out of him- double win!)
23. Waking up with his beautiful blue eyes looking up at me, this is now of course accompanied with a rough finger up the nostril or a smack in the face, but still, I love that connection and closeness, unless he catches me in the eye then I am not so cool with it (not a huge fan of the incessant and really hard pinching either!). We have always, safely, co-slept as it just felt right for us and I do love that we all get to be together every morning (perhaps not so much in the wee small hours when I get an arm or foot flung in my face!). He sleeps in his cot too, for most of the night, but he is usually back in the big bed around 4am every morning as that just works for us to all get a bit more sleep and some more snuggles!
24. Being the one who rocks and sings him to sleep every night and watching him sleep so peacefully when he finally gives into the tiredness, with those gorgeous sleepy murmur sounds that go with it – even if it is just for a few hours before he has me awake again and wishing he would just go back to sleep! A sleeping baby is just the most peaceful and innocent sight there is I reckon.
25. The oxytocin love-ins that would come on in huge waves in those early weeks as I looked down at my sleeping/feeding/kicking son, and they still happen a year later and feel just as good. There’s just more of him to love now.
26. All of the castles, walks and outings we have experienced together. Having Pads has definitely made me appreciate nature again and to realise and utilise the many amazing attractions and places of interest I have right on my doorstep. I love how we have always had an active and outdoorsy approach to each day and have lost count of the number of historical buildings, viewpoints, roadsides, fields and lay-bys we have sat in and breast fed in over the months! We definitely got about a fair bit me and Pads and have had lots of fun adventures in the great outdoors – and we have only just begun!
27. Weaning, boy that has been fun and touch wood, so far has gone very well. From puréed potato as his first ever food to samphire and roasted fennel with harissa crusted trout and birthday carrot cake, Pads has taken to eating and tasting new foods like an absolute pro and I have so loved cooking for him and watching his taste buds start to develop. Definitely my son! Now he can have pretty much any food, within moderation, so it’s about to get really interesting for him and for us in the kitchen!
28. The amazing sisterhood of supportive and brilliant mums that I have met or been in touch with just because we all have or have had babies or kids, and not all new mums either, some of you have kids that have flown the nest but we will be forever linked as we are both mums so there’s solidarity and a connection there that is truly awesome. I couldn’t have got through some of the low and insecure times without you all and it’s great to be in your gang (Taylor Swift’s squad has got nothing on us…right, ladies?!)
29. Even Flow. I still haven’t had a period again yet which is pretty awesome (think of all the money I’ve saved on Tampax!) – that’s due to the frequent breastfeeding still, so thank you Pads!
30. Buying and receiving baby clothes – they are just too darn cute and H and M is my weakness, I cannot resist their ranges. I also seem to have a big thing for babies in stripes. Pads has a lot of striped clothing…
I could go on and on and on clearly, as every day is filled with highlights.
However, there have also been some definite lows, and blips, but each one has made us stronger and has passed as quickly as it came.
The not so good
1. Being told I wasn’t going to have a Caesarian after moving hospitals (and countries!). I was all set to have an elective c section throughout my pregnancy when we were living in London, then we moved back to Wales a few weeks before the due date and that all changed. I wasn’t going to get an elective c-section here and that feeling of terror and of losing control was a bitter pill to swallow at 9 months pregnant, in a heat wave, having just moved out of London and boxed up all of my belongings and not being able to move into our cottage for quite some time (10 months worth of time as it would turn out!). That was a very hard and emotional time at a time when just being pregnant was hard and emotional enough!( It all turned out well in the end though – see below)
2. Struggling with our breastfeeding at the start with a poor latch, low weight gain for Pads and lots of scary green poo (thank you so much once again to all the friends that helped us with advice and to Carol the lactation goddess for setting us on the path to righteousness, otherwise known as biological feeding and relaxing into it)
3. The engorged boobs, sore and cracked nipples and aching arms that come with cluster feeding and the early weeks of both of you learning to breastfeed, and the biting and resting teeth marks that follow when you are still breastfeeding an older baby with a fine set of gnashers!
4. Always being covered in a bit of baby sick, chewed food, or perhaps a bit of poo (the memory of a very tired Jon hopping back into bed after yet another nappy change in one of the early weeks and accidentally smearing a streak of baby poo across his eyebrow still tickles me!) and only being able to wear tops or dresses that I can easily access my boobs in – this can be quite limiting and I long to wear some of my old dresses and tops that you just can’t breastfeed in without basically taking the whole thing off! One day. One day.
5. Many, many sleepless nights (I have not had a proper night’s sleep for almost 2 years I would say) and constant stressing about losing sleep and not getting enough sleep and incessantly researching how to make a baby sleep through the night bla bla bla. Sleep was my nemesis for far too long. Learning to accept that Pads is just not a good sleeper has taken a long time and it’s only in the past couple of months that I have been able to just go with it, stop counting the wakings and stop stressing about sleep. Things have started to improve around the same time so whether that is coincidence or as a direct result of the new approach, I guess I’ll never know!
6. Being ill in charge of a baby and having a poorly baby full stop. Both are really sucky. Padstar’s never ending cold and cough finally seems to be going, fingers crossed!, and I hated seeing him so drowsy and unsettled after his first immunisations. You just want to make everything better for them instantly and it’s hard to see them suffer in anyway. Likewise, being ill with tonsillitis or food posioning myself and trying to still look after Pads and give him the attention he deserves was pretty draining and required a lot of digging deep to get through the day! Long gone are the days when being ill means resting in bed, watching movies snuggled up in a duvet on the sofa and having early nights that’s for sure!
7. Dropping Pads into the boot of the car onto the soft part of his head by accident whilst trying to get him into his sling as he kicked his legs against my tummy…never a good thing to have to admit and having that first scary visit to a and e on my own, with a few weeks old baby, whilst Jon was working in London and my mum was away was not great. I still feel guilty and awful about that incident to this day, even though he was absolutely fine and I did the right thing, quickly, by getting him looked at. I am so glad he is now more robust and that soft patch on his head has toughened up. It always freaked me out, surely a design fault?!
8. The Absolute exhaustion and overall body pain in those few days after giving birth – no one really prepares you for that and it seems nuts doesn’t it that when you are first charged with the most valuable and fragile and vulnerable little being, you are at your most tired and stretched – literally. Still, you manage everything in the end and it’s a wonder how resilient and amazing the human body is at repairing itself and keeping you going when you must, and people generally really want to help so thanks for everyone who stepped in when we needed it most.
9. Poo-nami explosions when you are out and about and don’t have a change of clothes to hand (for either of you), and getting projectile baby sick in your mouth (yes that did happen…). There is little to no dignity or shame left after becoming a mum, from the legs-akimbo semi-naked check-ups to a bare-all-whatever-way-your-baby comes-out-birth, to episiotomies and boobs out in public if you breastfeed, your body is most definitely no longer your own and your privates are anything but!
10. The long, lonely nights when Pads just wouldn’t sleep or settle and would just cry and I had no idea why or what I was doing (I still don’t to be honest, I just don’t sweat it anymore!). This was also when Jon worked away in the big smoke unfortunately, whilst I was literally ‘holding the baby’ here in Wales, when I just felt so alone and scared and overwhelmed and wished he was there to just reassure me or share the burden of responsibility with. I do not miss those days at all and take my hat off to any single parents doing it all by themselves, you are heroes as it really isn’t easy and I am glad it’s now very much a 2 person job for us.
11. Reading a certain baby book that told me I needed to create a routine for my baby, which when I tried to implement said suggestions, turned into 2 of the worst and most soul destroying days I had as a parent (babies and routines do not necessarily go hand in hand, it totally depends on you and your baby and there is absolutely no one size fits all solution. I wish I had known that then.) We were actually doing just fine before I tried to shake things up and we went back to being just fine once I came to my senses and put that book down, so my advice for future mums would be, do not force a routine, especially somebody else’s routine, just go with the flow and you will find your own rhythm eventually. It may take a while, so just accept that and if what you’re doing works for you then go with it, if it doesn’t, by all means look for or ask for help, but take it with a pinch of salt and don’t be afraid to adjust any advice to suit you and your baby, after all, no one is an expert on your baby, not even you to begin with!
12. The constant worrying and self doubt and middle of the night Google search fuelled panic sweats that you have just committed the biggest parenting sin ever by not swaddling/swaddling your baby or co-sleeping with/not co-sleeping with your baby and so on and so forth. There will always be someone to tell you that you are doing it wrong and that they did it this way which was better, and there will always be someone who will judge you, but screw all of them. Trust in yourself and your instincts and listen to your baby’s cues and demands, and stay safe and informed of course, and you can’t really go wrong. There is no right way to parent, there is just your way, so stick with it!
13. And lastly, the biggest low of them all for me – the piles, man they lasted a long time and are absolutely horrible. I am happy to report they have finally gone – for now!
The highs absolutely outweigh the lows of course and I am grateful to have experienced all of this, the good and the not so good. Honestly, I am (except maybe the piles. I could have skipped them quite happily).
And do you know what, that’s just the things I can remember, as so much happens in the first year and it’s all so new and full on and relentless that it is so easy to forget. I remember friends with newborns just a few days old asking me for advice when Pads was a only few months old, and I had already forgotten most things we went through and whatever the biggest worries were at each stage! Which is why I am so grateful that I kept this blog as I can now look back and see what happened when and jog those memories.
Looking back is lovely but I am most excited now about looking forward, and more than that, living in the moment with my gorgeous little toddler. The love I have for my little bundle of fun is beyond words, though I have tried to put it into words in this here blog, and I hope I have succeeded just a little bit to convey just how much I love being his mum.
He has changed me and my life is not my own anymore, not completely, as his needs and wants come first, so I have had to adjust, and thats okay. This baby/toddler/totally dependant stage isn’t forever and so what if I can’t go to the pub after work for a cider or I can’t go to that Pilates class because it clashes with bath and bed time and my Padstar still wants and needs me, his old mum, to be there for that every single night at the moment? I have never not put him to bed and that’s just fine with me. That’s what we both want and I am more than happy to do it. There will be plenty of time to have that pint of cider and take up a Pilates class when he is older and not interested in hanging out with his mum and I am hardly going to regret not doing those things when I am old and looking back on my life am I?! But I will be grateful that I spent so much time with my son and put him first at all times. I am just making the most of this precious time while I can!
I wanted to end by saying thank you to all of you who have ever read this blog, especially you regular readers. I have appreciated all of your comments and likes and shares, I really have. This has been the best outlet for me to sound my worries and share my experiences, good and bad, and hopefully offer, and receive support, and I have loved writing this every week. It’s been very cathartic. It gave me a bit of my old creative self back when I needed it most too.
Now my son is a year old, I won’t be writing every week because, well, life is just too busy and I don’t want to miss a beat! With Pads, work, the cottage and a few exciting projects in the pipeline, I am evolving the blog into more of a fortnightly or monthly thing, so I will still be blogging about parenting Paddington, but just not as frequently and not as a week by week account anymore (nobody wants to be reading ‘Week 967 – Paddington finishes his A-levels!’ do they, least of all Pads himself!).
Before I sign off on the last week of my son’s first year, I wanted to share my birthing story with you, as a celebration of Paddington’s entry into the world and to demonstrate how positive an experience child birth can be, even when you are absolutely terrified of doing it and don’t think your body will be able to do it, as I was. Your body can do it. It can do anything. It’s amazing. Really. Mine still amazes me every day.
This is the story of Paddington’s birth as I remember it, there may be a few things out of order or missed out as I was too involved in the process to be aware of every detail, but it went a lot like this:
Mine and Paddington’s birthing story.
Over 1 year and 3 days ago today, this happened:
It started with a dodgy tum. I had had venison burgers for tea and then retired for an early night to bed around 9pm ish. At around 11pm I felt what I could only associate as stomach cramps that you get before a spate of the runs, so I rushed off to the toilet, where I spent the best part of half an hour having the shits. (This is going to be a no holds barred account so those of a nervous disposition, just skip to the end!)
I thought nothing more of it as I was already 9 days late and had given up on thinking every stomach movement or sensation was the onset of labour. We had been booked in to be induced in 3 days time so I had just resigned myself to that.
We had a birthing plan in place that I was pretty happy with, after I had been heavily discouraged/told that I would not be having my elective c section here in Wales by a very brisk consultant, which was what I was going to have had, had we stayed in London for the birth. I had wanted one because I was absolutely terrified of giving birth, it gave me cold sweats and the thought of it made me shake and feel sick. To find out so close to my due date that everything I had been gearing up towards was not going to happen felt like someone had pulled the floor from beneath me and turned me into a sobbing wreck for a couple of days whilst I processed this new information.
I could have appealed and insisted to see another consultant and demanded a c- section of course, but that would have been really stressful and I didn’t want to put myself or my baby through that, so after a very wobbly tear-stained few days, and a visit to the hospital to talk about giving birth a go and the safety nets that we could put in place to make me feel less anxious and more in control of it, I started to come round to the idea. It would be nice to have at least tried to give birth vaginally I suppose and if I just couldn’t do it, as I was so convinced I couldn’t as I thought I had a really low pain threshold, then we worked out a plan of action to then go for a Caesarian, so really there was nothing to lose- right?!
I started doing daily hypno-birthing CDs in the 2 weeks leading up to the due date, with this new plan of giving birth a go, to try and calm myself down and prepare mentally for what was to come. I wasn’t convinced that just working on my breathing and listening to affirmations and somebody telling me that everything was going to be fine and that my body was amazing and would know what to do, was going to do any good, but I actually found the CDs incredibly relaxing and soothing instantly, and they were keeping me calm and positive, which was a surprise to me. I wouldn’t know how much the breathing techniques and calm and controlled mindset that the CDs subtly transferred to me, would really end up helping, until a little later on however.
The new birthing plan was simple: get to hospital when already in labour using the hypno-birthing techniques to get to this stage, have an immediate epidural on arrival, along with gas and air and try and give birth vaginally (I hate the word ‘naturally’ as it belittles other births and they are all just as important as the other). If after an agreed time, I just couldn’t do it, then I would go to theatre and have the c- section I had so desperately wanted. It was a fair compromise. I didn’t want any pethidine, and definitely not an episiotomy or forceps or vonteause to be used to aid the delivery. So those three things were definitely not going to happen under my watch…
Anyway, I went back to bed but I just couldn’t settle as those pesky stomach cramps were getting a bit stronger and I felt like I still needed the loo all the time, so back to the bog for me where I sat, gripping the towel rail as the cramps intensified quite quickly. You may think by now I had cottoned on to the fact that this may not be the burger’s fault, but I hadn’t. I still honestly thought this was a dodgy tum, as I do get them a lot and that’s what it felt like, just a really intense version. Almost an hour passed by and that towel rail was being tested as I used it to hang some of my upper body weight on as I rode what I now know were the early contractions.
Tired and fed up of sitting on the loo, I came back to bed and thought the worst of my food bug had to be over now. Jon woke up at this point and said, ‘are you ok? What’s wrong with your breathing? Are you in labour?’. It was probably around 1am by now and I hadn’t even noticed that I was breathing really deeply and slowly as it was helping with the stomach cramps. I had just started doing it naturally and instinctively (and thanks to those breathing CDs!). I still insisted that it wasn’t labour as I would surely know when that was starting, mother’s intuition and all that, but Jon was having none of it and switched the light on and made me sit up and look at him.
It was then that I admitted that I was really in pain and the contractions were becoming more and more regular and lasting longer. Suddenly, it was apparent that this wasn’t food poisoning or whatever, this was it. I was in labour. Shit. We looked at each other in a sort of half mild panic, half excited this is the moment we have been waiting for for 10 months but what do we do know sort of expression, and Jon decided we should call the midwives at the hospital and get their advice. So he took charge of that as I sat panting quietly and as doubled over as I could be with a massive bump, on the edge of the bed, trying to get comfortable and failing miserably.
The midwives asked for me to be put on the phone where they enquired about my contractions; how frequent, how long, how intense etc…I was still able to talk quite coherently to them through the waves and they were a good few minutes apart still and only lasting around 10 seconds, so they said to keep timing them and try and get some sleep if I could and call back when we thought they were more regular, longer and more intense.
I absolutely did not want to go to hospital and get turned back because I wasn’t far enough along so I was thankful that they told me to stay put for now. I was determined to get as far along as possible on my own so that when we went to hospital, that would be it and I could have my epidural straight away – that was my endgame. Jon wanted to get us to the hospital there and then as he was sure the contractions were getting more frequent but I dug my fat, swollen heels in. I wanted to go when we were sure I was properly in labour, as the hospital was less than 10 minutes away, so I was in no rush, besides I think I also wanted to hang on to life as I knew it for just a little bit longer too. I don’t know why I was so insistent and that this was so important to me all of a sudden, but it was my way of keeping control on something I had no control over and a hot and tired pregnant lady who has just gone into labour must be adhered to!
The next few hours sort of passed by in a bit of a blur really. I tried sitting on the birthing ball to relieve some of the pain and heaviness but the second I sat on it, the pain increased so that plan was aborted. I tried pacing around the lounge and the bedroom which helped keep me distracted for a bit but I gradually got slower and my steps less certain as the contractions got more full on. Jon tried to give me back rubs that we had practiced in our NCT class but I literally bit his head off snapping ‘don’t touch me!’, so was clearly not in the mood for that!
I drank water, nibbled on a biscuit, put the TV – or was it some music? – on in the background, I honestly can’t remember!, as a feeble attempt to divert my attention from what was happening and just breathed. I certainly couldn’t sleep as the hospital midwife had suggested! No way to block out these feelings and sensations.
I just wanted to stay calm and positive and go wth it, whatever was coming next, and that’s when the hypno-birthing breathing techniques really came into their own and they would continue to get me through the whole birth. Amazing what a bit of controlled and steady breathing can do really.
Cut to around about 5.30am and the contractions were now just minutes apart and lasting for a good 45 seconds, some longer. Jon had wanted to call the hospital on the hour every hour but I had remained insistent that we would go when I just couldn’t take it anymore and when we were certain not to have to come back home. He got the midwife on the phone again and I tried to talk to them but I was so lost in the contractions, the pain just taking over my consciousness, and so focused on my breathing and the sheer frequency of the contractions that I could barely get any words out and mostly just gave guttural murmurs down the line as I tried to cope with the pain through my breath and release of sounds. It didn’t take them long to say, I think you had better get down here right away!
Getting to the car was a struggle as I could hardly put any weight on one of my legs as it sent pain into my pelvis and I was so focused on riding my contractions, with barely any recovery time to catch my breath and prepare for the next one, so Jon had to basically drag me and lower me into the car seat. No mean feat! He drove really steadily all the way as I writhed about in discomfort, and pulled at the seat belt which was making me feel really confined, and kept making my ‘argh’ and ‘ooh’ sounds to distract myself. It felt like the longest and bumpiest journey in the world.
We got there by about 6am I think, and were ushered in and taken to a small assessment room. The midwife could see that I was in a lot of pain so she went to sort out some gas and air, whilst I waddled off to the loo where I promptly had my show. She then said ‘let’s take a look and see how far along you are…’, and started to examine me, she looked at me almost instantly and said ‘well done you, we better get you into the big room, you are nearly 10cms dilated’, which I have since learnt was quite an achievement and most definitely a sign of being in real labour! Excellent. So far, so on plan.
She asked if I still wanted the epidural as I would have to be sited for it right now or it would be too late for it to be administered and take affect. I tripped over my words saying ‘yes please, let’s get it done!’, as the thought of that epidural was what was keeping me going really. It was my lifeline.
I was taken to the birthing room and the midwife tried to site the drips for my epidural a couple of times but was struggling to get a good vein. I had blood dripping down my arms but I didn’t care as I was about to get the ultimate in pain relief and keep in control of this birth. Except, I wasn’t and that’s not what happened.
Like a hammer to a stone, the midwife came back in after a few minutes after urgently sending for the anaesthetist, looking very serious. She said the words I had not wanted to hear. ‘He has been called to an emergency in theatre and is the only one in this morning. I’m sorry but there will be no epidural’. And just like that my control fell from my hands, whipped around my head and smacked me in the face. I had two choices. Panic and put my baby and myself under unnecessary strain and possible danger, or admit defeat, let it go and fall back into the arms of the experts and my beloved husband around me and just trust in them. Luckily, I found the strength to chose the 2nd option and decided to make my breathing my main concern and leave Jon to manage the room and be my spokesperson. He would know what was best for me and our baby. And he really did us both proud.
From here on in, time became irrelevant and everything just sort of happened around me. Jon was my rock and my absolute pillar of strength, I could not have done it without him. He was administer of gas, air and weak orange squash to keep my energy levels up and hydrate me, and kept my sweaty brow cool with a cold flannel and gave me constant words of soft encouragement throughout the whole experience, telling me to dig deep when it really mattered. He believed in me and helped me believe in myself. He stood up for the whole tine and never took his eyes off me or off the ball. He is my hero.
I know that the contractions just seemed to run into one another for what felt like forever, and I had seconds to try and catch my breath and prepare mentally and physically for the next rolling sensation. I had a system whereby I would ride out one contraction just by focusing on my breath and letting out whatever sounds I needed to, then for the next one I allowed myself a big suck of gas and air, then for the next one a big glug of squash before I went into it, and so on. This pattern just seemed to help me deal with the constant onslaught and kept me focused.
The midwife was exceptional. Keeping my flannel cold and wet, as being the hottest human on earth anyway, I was in another realm of sweaty and sticky on this, the hottest day of the year, and through having to put so much effort into my breathing and just being in the moment. She was calm and controlled and patient and I trusted her totally.
I know that suddenly my waters broke and I felt like I had covered the whole room in liquid, so much so that I apologised to everyone for making such a mess! (I hadn’t covered the room at all!). I know that my waters breaking was the most intense and incredible feeling of force and release I have ever experienced and I was not expecting that! That is so not how it happens in the movies!
I know that I started needing to push after a while, and that I ran out of gas and air and this nearly sent me into a panic until I managed to calm myself down with my breathing again and just sort of fall into the sensations and embrace the pain. Sounds hippy chicky I know but that’s how it was.
I know that they replaced the gas and air canister and I felt in control again. I know that I started pushing and it was intense. I know that I couldn’t quite get my breathing right when pushing and was holding my breath and turning a shocking shade of scarlet apparently!
I know that I was knackered and struggling to find any energy and that I had refused every bit of food we had so lovingly packed in our hospital bag as the last thing I wanted was to eat. I know that I wasn’t pushing as hard and as often as I needed to and I was really trying. Trying harder than I have ever tried at anything before in my life. I know that I heard Jon and the midwife saying something about Pethidine and how I needed some extra help to deal with the pain and I know that I said ‘OK, whatever you think’ even though it had been an absolute no on my birthing plan because by this point I just didn’t care. I just wanted to deliver my baby safely and I was so so so beyond tired. (And quite high from the gas and air too!).
I know there was an injection and then I know very little from this point on as I became a space cadet just mumbling ‘it’s ok’ and then fading off into my own little bubble of pain and intensity. It didn’t help with the pain unfortunately, it just made me feel a bit removed from myself and a bit more relaxed I suppose. A ‘what will be will be’ sort of mind set. Thankfully Jon was with me to hold my sweaty hand and be my voice, ears and eyes as I was just breathing, pushing and trying to stay afloat and not let the pain take me down into a panic or a route of self-doubt.
What I didn’t know was I had now been properly pushing for almost 2 hours full on and my body couldn’t really give anymore. Also I didn’t know that Paddington’s heart rate was slowing as he was getting stuck in the birthing canal, as I kept giving one really good, strong push that pushed him forward then not having the energy to keep that level of force up for the next 2 pushes, so he was then slipping backwards again each time.
I didn’t know that they were discussing the very real option of taking me to theatre next as they could see that I just couldn’t give anymore and they didn’t want our baby to be put under anymore distress sliding in and out of the birthing canal for much longer.
I do know that the midwife asked me if I used to be a horse rider, which I did, as she was concerned how tough my pelvic floor muscles and perineum were. Basically there wasn’t enough stretching happening to get my baby out, so a decision was quickly made to give me another absolute no from my birthing plan – an episiotomy, as a last attempt to help me deliver my baby out the front door before the last resort that anyone wanted to take at this stage, Caesarian. Ironic really as that is what I had wanted in the first place and now I was on the same side as the midwife and doctor that I didn’t want one after all of this effort unless absolutely necessary!
Jon made the final decision after consulting with the midwife and the doctor, who had now become involved in the birth because of the time it was taking and for the welfare of our baby. I gave a mumbled ‘yeah ok, whatever is best’ as my consent and I really was ok with it because I just wanted my baby out now and I put my trust wholeheartedly into my husband and the experts around me. So what if this wasn’t going to plan?! It was going and we were nearing an end which is all I needed to know.
Jon distracted me as the doc carried over his tools and one of the most painful bits of the whole birth was something I hadn’t expected, an injection into my nethers to numb the area ready for the incision. It was a sharp and instant shock and I yelped and lifted my body off the bed in reaction. But it was over quickly and that was all I felt of what was happening down there, so it was worth it!
One quick clean cut later and I was told to give the 3 best, strongest pushes of my life. I tried. I mean I really tried (and this is probably when the piles arrived to be honest!) and my baby was crowning. Everyone was excited and urging me on as there was a head at last! A baby’s head! This bit then went so fast. We were at the final hurdle and our baby had to come out now and quickly because air flow was restricted in there and the heartbeat wasn’t as strong as they would’ve liked it to be at that moment due to the stress my baby was under slipping backwards and forwards in the birthing canal.
I heard the words ‘kiwi vonteause’ and that it would really help me if I could give it one more triage of pushes, just to pull my baby past the exit and out into the world. That was another no from my plan but we had decided if push came to shove (ha!), we would take the kiwi version of the vonteause option as it was operated by the doctor’s strength only and not mechanical.
With a frantic and determined look, we all nodded, ‘just do it’, and with that the contraption was torn from its sealed sterile package, placed on our baby’s head and with a 1,2,3 I pushed with everything I had left in me. Salt n Pepa’s immortal lyrics of ‘p p push it real good!’ were whirring around my sleep deprived and drug induced brain and suddenly there was that feeling of immense force and release and instant relief as our baby shot out at quite a speed into the waiting arms of the midwife. Paddington was born! It was all over. (Well apart from the small matter of birthing the placenta, which I took an injection to ensure happened quickly and then getting sewn back up – this all happened while I was feeding and cradling my newborn baby in my arms however so I didn’t notice it happening and frankly couldn’t give a damn by this point. My baby was safe and born and that was all that mattered.)
The moment Paddington popped out, quite literally, and at 11.48am exactly, will be forever etched on my brain. I screamed with exertion and might, so the first words I said to my Pads as he entered the world were ‘I’m sorry baby! Sorry I screamed!’. Jon had the biggest smile on his face and said ‘well done baby. You are my hero’, quickly followed by ‘do you want to know who it is?’. I had completely forgotten that we didn’t know what gender we were having, I was just happy to have a healthy baby that was finally out!
When he announced that we had a son, I swelled with pride and joy, the same as I would’ve done if Pads had been a girl to be fair because we honestly had no preference. Having spent a year in Padstar’s company though and experiencing the wonder of being a mother to a gorgeous loving little boy, I think I would definitely have chosen to have a boy.
Pads was quickly checked over, then placed into my waiting arms, where Jon and I just soaked in his perfect features, tiny fragility and amazingness. How was this incredible child ours?! We were so lucky and continue to be the luckiest people alive to have him in our lives.
The midwife helped us to get Pads into a skin to skin feeding position and he latched on straight away. It was the oddest sensation to be suckled on and I remember thinking I’m not sure about this at first and then feeling hugely emotional about what I was able to do as a woman, and feed my son from my own body. Then the tears were welling in my eyes as I sat there covered in goodness knows what gunk and goo without a care in the world, breast feeding my son as I had so wanted to be able to do.
Jon cut the cord at some point as we had wanted delayed cord clamping so at least we achieved something off our list!, and Pads was whisked off to be cleaned up a bit, weighed (a respectable 7.8lbs of yumminess) and put into his first ever super soft baby duck print baby grow and knitted beanie hat to keep him cosy now he was out in the open.
I had a bath and my muscles and body felt like I had been doing hurdles and several marathons all night. I was hyper and exhausted and elated and blissfully unaware of anything other than the fact that we were now parents and our son was here. We were in a glorious little family bubble where it felt like we were the only people in the world for a while.
So that didn’t go at all to plan did it? It was pretty much the opposite of what I had wanted in the first place and all of the things I insisted I didn’t want to happen, had to in the end for the sake of me and my baby, and thats the whole point.
My biggest piece of advice to any new mum anxious about giving birth is to just trust in yourself and your body’s abilities, it will honestly amaze you whatever happens, and most importantly trust in those around you and just go with it. The only thing that matters is your baby coming out safely and you being in one piece (albeit with a few stitches to patch you up if needs be!), and both of you being healthy. That’s it.
Candles, music, no drugs, etc… Etc…don’t matter at all when you are in the process of bringing life into the world, so just go with the flow and have someone you trust with yours and your baby’s life by your side to hold your hand, mop your brow, keep you hydrated, tell you that you are amazing and that you can do it when you feel like you can’t, and to speak up and listen for you when you are lost in the sensations of labour. I am very happy with my birth story and I can’t thank my husband and the midwife and doctor team enough for giving us the best care and helping to bring Paddington in to the world as safely as possible.
After the birth, we then embarked upon the incredible journey that is learning to parent Paddington. A journey we will forever be on and forever learning on the job. And do you know what? It really is the best job on the planet.
Paddington, we love you to the moon and back and then a little bit more.
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