The Best Sandwich of my Life - a Sneaky Peek into Birthing a Tiny Human

Today is a celebration of the first year of being a parent. I've had so many days of wanting to finish a blog post to relay my experience of pregnancy, and the little marshmallow's journey from being nurtured in my womb and then, like all good marshmallows, exploding onto Planet Earth! So here it is in all its glory.

I'll be honest; I never had a deep longing to have a baby. It finally took being with the man of my dreams for 10 years before I warmed up to the thought of going through the process. Okay, I might be exaggerating a little; I knew that Eliot was the golden ticket from the get go, but it was just a matter of when it felt right to add a little human into our lives. Was I prepared to incubate a baby for 9 months...nope. As organised as one may be (not I), I don't think you can be fully prepared for the process. It's a trip and a half, no two days are the same, and I'm not sure why women want to repeat the pregnancy journey multiple times. Evolution has its way of making us forget quite quickly any pain and suffering that may be related to the pregnancy train. I've decided to give an up front and honest account of what's it's like to squeeze a baby out your lady garden (thanks Kath), and for me it was mostly au naturel. No meds, apart from a bit of gas, and my delivery was though the lady garden hole. No apologies here with this account, and if you're offended easily, stop reading now. This is my account and yes, everyone's experience is quite different.

Riding into this pregnancy rodeo in my 30s was a smart move on my behalf. I had a blast in my 20s, as travelling brought plenty of self-discovery and I've found myself in some pretty unique settings. Some of my experiences are a story in themselves, so I'll save those for another time. There was no way in hell that I was having a baby during my roaring 20s! Then comes 30, and before you know it, you're getting to the age where your doctor asks "are you thinking of having a baby?" Because you're getting to an age where risks are higher with conception and other assorted pregnancy things. There's plenty of fun and not so fun facts when it comes to having a baby. Go nuts with your internet searches, and just decide what's best for you.

Let's do a quick preview of pregnancy in general before we dive into the gory details. In general life timeline things, 9 months is not really a long time, but when you're growing a human...you feel like you've been pregnant for well over a decade. Morning sickness - all day, every day for the first 3 months. Feeling exhausted on a daily basis but somehow finding the energy to keep going, all while still having that sick feeling for months 4, 5, and 6 (am I selling this yet?). Make some new baby mamma friends along the way, create a Messenger thread that allows you and your new friends to complain about all things "pregnant" at 3am - can't sleep, I can't stomach any more Gaviscon, and when shall the tiredness go away? Oh, that's right...probably never! Then, the final 3 months of having a lot more energy, ecstatically enjoying food again, and then slowing down the last few weeks because you feel like how a beached sea lion looks....oh, throw in some weird facial blotches, with swollen legs 'n feet and you've got fun times in preggo camp.

The biggest knockers I've ever had!

I stayed pretty focused on keeping my fitness up to par as much as I could. I ran up until about 5 months, then it felt uncomfortable and I was over having to pee every 4 minutes. Biking was fine until about 7 months, then I just started to look ridiculous, again, like that beached sea lion, and I was concerned about taking a fall. So that left swimming and walking. I swam right up to my due date. It was my only escape and the sense of being relaxed in the water was great for my mindset. I'm pretty proud to say that I did flip turns in the pool for the entire duration. I was determined to flip turn this baby out!

Then yes, finally D-day arrives; it's 3 days past my due date, to be exact. "To be expected for a first timer" said my friend and midwife, Suzanne. The cat knew something was up days ago; he snuggled in beside me every time I sat down.

The timeline goes a bit like so:
00:00- Things start to kick off. I'm feeling like a squeezed accordion. I start the timer on my phone and hope I get some sleep during the night. Wishful thinking. Mr. Kitty stays by me throughout the night in the spare room, while I moan like that aforementioned beached sea lion. (For the men: these muscular flip outs feel like really bad period pains. For you, it may be like getting punched in the lower abdomen every 10(ish) mins and then as the day goes by, that pain increases while the timeframe decreases between each punch....think Conor McGregor getting angry because you keep standing on his nice new shiny white designer sneakers, so he delivers a mean punch to your abs until you're TKOed. Ouchy ouch.)

08:00- Call to midwife, Suzanne. Explain the night. No panic just yet, but have your bag ready just in case.

09:30- Call to midwife. Explain the past hour.  It's probably time to get yourself to the birthing facility. Our choice was Charlotte Jean in Alexandra, only a 45-minute drive away. Drive hard Eliot.

10:15- Arrival to baby catching facility. One baby bag and 3 bags of camera gear - check.
Welcome to a lovely wee house that looks like your Kiwi nan's gaff, but inside, there's a magical baby catching room with a big bath, a bed, and a few other medical-looking devices. All these items are really just props to hold onto during the day, all while you find some new position in order to gain a little comfort in between these ever-increasing hideous contractions.

12:00- Time spent in the birthing pool is delightfully calming but it starts to slow the contractions down, so I'm turfed out and told I have to start working hard if I want to avoid a 3.5hr trip to Dunedin. It turns out I'm being a lazy labour lady... could have fooled me! Lunch time for Suzanne, nurse Glenda, and husband/photographer. No food for me...last thing on my mind...pass the whiskey, I mean, water, thanks! Dilation at about 2cm.

Check out all the props! 

Suzanne gives me a reassuring smile.

Sufferfest

Eliot, you are not my friend right now!

14:00- Where did those 2 hours go?? Oh, that's right...holding onto multiple items, while complaining about the pain and pregnancy in general. Note: midwife Suzanne is constantly monitoring my state, making notes, and in general, being awesome. No big moves on dilation, but I'm making advances towards 4cm.

15:30- Informed by my awesome baby catcher, Suzanne, that my waters haven't broken. Time to get the ball rolling on freeing those waters. This procedure is called an amniotomy. Think knitting needle device into vagina to break the amniotic sac that surrounds the little human. Yes, pray that your waters will break naturally because this feeling is, well, horrendous!

16:00- Me: "What's happening now, is this thing (the baby) almost out?" Suzanne: "No, we might need to move you to Dunedin." Me: "F*% that, I'm not going to a hospital." Push harder. Eliot is being a good husband, rubbing my head and back and giving words of encouragement. Secretly, I want to punch him. He's half the reason I'm here with an expanding vagina. Have shower, sit on toilet, and move back to floor. Cervical dilation: 6cm.

A yoga mat has many uses.

17:00- Move to bed. Howling like a banshee and making sure that Eliot is documenting my turmoil.
Note: A banshee is, in Irish legend, a female spirit whose wailing warns of death. This probably came about from very drunk people stumbling by houses after pub closing hours - where they heard some poor woman in labour while channeling her inner animal. I'm a woman, hear me roar!

17:30- Surrounding residential homes must think that someone is being murdered. Pass the gas, I need something to take the edge off. Note; I haven't eaten since 8pm the night before, starting to feel tired at this stage and having a Red Bull is not an option. At this point, an IV drip is the best option to keep me hydrated as much as possible. Cervical dilation: 8cm.

I'm definitely hurting here.

18:00- Very tired and this is not over. Lights, camera, action. Eliot capturing my moments of despair. Gas is not doing much, apart from making me feel like I just smoked a joint (something I may or may have not done is my younger years). Suzanne asking if I'm ok with this camera thing...I nod, yes. I want record of this. Silent thoughts - I'm never doing this again!

18:30- On bed - on my knees, gripping bed frame so tight, my swollen hands are white-knuckled! Words of encouragement from the team down below. Cervix is dilating nicely and we're almost to 10cm.

  At least the curtains are closed.                                          

18:45- Voices down below tell me that there's a head appearing. Oh sweet baby Jesus, is the end near?! Nurse Glenda is holding my hand, she too may have lost sensation in her hand due to my unavoidable death grip. My inner banshee is now in full force; the surrounding neighbourhood has definitely turned their TVs up a few decibels. I'm now in the zone, sweating like I'm at spin class, and the sensation in the lady garden is so intense, I'm not sure if I'm having a monumental poop or actually pushing out a baby. The burning ring of fire has increased considerably; this may be my perineum tearing/ripping/shredding...don't care, relief is imminent, baby must come out.

Scientists at work.

Welcome out little baby!

18:50- The hormonal drive throughout my body is something that I have nothing to compare to. I push with every last Joule that I have left in my body and then it happens; slip n' slide, she's out, full noise too! A wave of calmness overcomes my body, I turn around and plonk my exhausted self on my back. A quick wipe down of baby and she's placed on my chest. There are no thoughts, just extreme relief and jubilation as I hold my little human that has finally decided to join us all in this world. She is tiny, warm, and in my eyes - perfect! Still attached is the umbilical cord; its alien-like coil attached her to me for 9 months, where it nourished my little parasite and gave her everything she needed. Now it was time for her to move onto better things. Within 15 minutes of hanging out on my lower chest, she wriggles her way up to my exploding mammary glands. My ridiculously large areola are now her beacon to her new feeding friends.

It's ok, little velociraptor.

E2.

Two days of hanging out at The Charlotte Jean Maternity BnB was a wonderful way to get to know our new spawn. The staff do a fantastic job of making sure you are comfortable and giving guidance on everything baby, or at least inform as best they can to make you feel confident about getting home with your bundle of joy. Our experience here was delightful. Our midwife, Suzanne was so wonderful during our journey towards parenthood. She is an incredible human and a dedicated nurse to her profession. The women/men of this profession do not get enough credit for the endless hours committed to their clients. This in itself is another blog for another day.

We always knew we were having a girl; it was nice keeping that one secret to ourselves. Now we get to announce her to our eagerly waiting family and friends. I just completed the biggest achievement of my life to date, and it's just the beginning. Eliot and I are responsible for someone apart from ourselves...what have we gotten ourselves into?! It's ok, we're not alone, humankind has been doing this for millennia. I'm asked what I would like, and I'm so hungry that I could eat 2 sandwiches, which I do, and wash them down with a cup of tea. It's the best sandwich I've ever had in my life. Just look :)

Feeding time.