This blog is written by Stacey Kelly at Your Very Own Story – the writer & illustrator of personalised children’s books. Click on the image above to preview yours now!
We’ve all seen the movies where the woman is heavily pregnant, her waters suddenly break all over her best friend’s Manolo Blahniks and she is instantly clutching her baby belly in agony wailing like a banshee! That’s how it is, right? Erm….No!
Everyone said to me ‘You’ll just know when you’re in labour’. Well I’m going to put it out there – I didn’t have a clue! After 36 hours of not knowing,(and quite possibly denial) what I claimed to be regular Braxton Hicks occurring every 30 minutes, became stronger and I eventually acknowledged that yes, I might be in labour! My waters hadn’t broken all over the place, I wasn’t instantly in pain (although that did come in time) and I certainly wasn’t wailing – it was more of a grunt! I wasn’t scared (which is a good job because there was no going back now!) I was just really excited to finally meet my new son or daughter after all of this time.
Now, I’ve never classed myself as a high maintenance girl. However, despite being quite a friendly childbirther, as my labour progressed, I did demonstrate what can only be described as diva-like qualities! As a wave of a contraction grew, don’t ask me why, but the following things HAD to occur: I had to be on my hands and knees rocking backwards and forwards with no clothes on my skin whatsoever, Mathew (my husband) had to press the contraction timer, mute the TV and get on his knees directly in front of me holding a flannel on my forehead. This flannel had to be above my eyes and he had to sway perfectly in time with my undulating body. If one or more of these things didn’t happen, then quite frankly, it was the end of the world!
Although I expected Mat to instinctively know what I needed him to do, it took him a few attempts to get it spot on. The first time, my dressing gown was still slightly on my skin. I flapped my hands frantically pointing to the intrusive garmet and Mat quickly removed it. The second time, Mat forgot to mute the T.V. Oh the noise! One minute I would be singing along merrily to the theme tune of TOWIE, the next minute in the full swing of a contraction, the noise would feel like nails on a chalk board – this mishap didn’t go down too well! The third and final time, Mat missed my forehead with the flannel and covered my eyes. You’d have thought, with my dramatic reaction, that he was trying to smother me! My head jolted ferociously from side to side and my hands flailed (kind of pointing in the direction of my head) as I tried to pant the words ‘My eyes! My eyes!’ through an almightly contraction. Mat quickly realised and readjusted the flannel and harmony was restored once again.
Despite these little misdemeanors, Mat soon learnt the drill and in no time at all we were like a well oiled machine running smoothly and seamlessly in sync with one another.
Now, back to the screaming banshee! This just wasn’t how it was. Although, I do recall at one point telling my midwife, in a very matter of fact tone, that I thought my unborn baby was trying to kill me. Oh, and just as my body decided that it was time to push, I may have yelled ‘It will not fit! I am telling you it really will not fit!’. But wailing? Nope, I never did that!
Now despite having a very successful, beautiful and natural home birth, I stand by that statement. It does not really fit! I mean, who on earth designed our bodies to have something so big come out of something so flippin’ small?! It just makes no sense! However, it is over in a flash and the pain is tolerable. In the grand scheme of things, it is a short amount of time that leads you to the most beautiful moment in your life.
Now when your body decides to push, there is nothing you can do about it. Many people had warned my that I’d feel like I needed a poo – a very BIG poo! When this time arrived, I argued with my body for a while (an actual converation in my head) but then I realised that I could either cooperate and help the process, or fight it and it would happen anyway but take longer! My body and mind finally met on the same page and in just 35 minutes of sheer hard work, my little cherub, Eleni Renée Kelly, was born. In that very second, the pain ended and was replaced by pure love – my life and heart had changed for ever!
Oh, and by the way – a word of warning to those of you who are still yet to have a baby. Something that EVERYBODY failed to mention throughout my pregnancy (despite telling me MANY horror stories) was that when you need to pee after having given birth, please take a jug of warm water and pour it over yourself (obviously I am talking about your bits here and not your head!). Alternatively, just run a bath and pee in that instead because let me tell you, it bloomin’ stings! I had to learn this the hard way as my mother scraped me off the bathroom ceiling after I innocently sat on the loo with no clue what was about to follow! Please ladies – take heed! 🙂
Love Stacey x
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