boy oh boy

Well I did not intend to take so long to write this next blog, nor did I intend for it to have the content it will have. You see when I left work on maternity leave I had a list of things to do – one of which was to blog about the final stages of my pregnancy –  being that I had 4 weeks off before baby was due I figured I had plenty of time.

Turns out our little bundle had other ideas giving me just 1 day off work to clean the house before making its very fast unexpected arrival into this world. More on that later.

The final half of my pregnancy went just as smoothly as the 1st half. I was finally one of those bellies walking around the supermarket! I enjoyed lugging my belly around, I wasnt at any point unbearably uncomfortable and managed to avoid swelling and those other horrible side effects. All check ups with our Obstetrician were spot on, there were areas of visible scarring, however this was minimal and didnt seem to effect the growth of our baby – of which we did not know if it was a boy or a girl. It wasnt until I was 30 weeks pregnant that I finally started to relax and believe that we were going to have a baby. It was at this point I really started to relax, let myself fully believe and get excited. I had finally found confidence in my body again, it was finally working as it should. I carried well, I had no complaints only total gratitude. I was aware however that I was now that pregnant lady hiding around corners serving as a horrible reminder as to why some other beautiful lady woke up just a little bit sad that morning.

This brings me to Easter weekend, Easter Friday to be precise. It was my 1st day off work and I was looking forward to the next 4 weeks of pre-baby maternity leave, setting up the nursery, meeting people for coffee, filling the freezer with baking, taking afternoon naps and even more so having sleepins!!! I spent the day cleaning the house (being 36 weeks pregnant it really did take all day). We were having friends over for dinner that night and my h-band and I had discussed the fact that he probably should make this his last night of enjoying wine with his dinner for a while as D day drew near. Well enjoy it he did, he well and truly enjoyed the wine that night and the whisky and I think even the beer. Dinner was so enjoyable, alothough I was feeling a little exhausted. I had some slight tummy discomfort during dinner (which funnily enough was curry) however I just put it down to eating too much as it wasnt pain I was just a little uncomfortable.

At 2am with my husband passed out on the couch I woke up in bed with my waters breaking. There was no mistaking it, this was deffinatley my waters (no one prepared me for the amount off liquid that was stored up in there). I knew I had to handle my h-band with care, he was in for a shock of a life time and I was pretty confident he was not going to wake up sober. So I very gently woke him up and advised him my waters had broken, to which he told me I had wet myself and to go back to bed. Once I had finally convinced him the water all through the bed and all over the carpet was not urine I called our Obstetrician. I will cut a very long story short by saying he told me to get some sleep and that nothing was going to happen over night, we would talk in the morning. Well nothing happened for 2 hours, but sleep I did not. At 4am after I had had a shower, done the ironing, packed the hospital bags, paid some bills and was sitting on the couch catching up on Coronation Street I started to get very mild period pain which I noticed was rolling around every 3 minutes. I called our Obstetrician who again told me to relax and go back to bed and call him in the morning. Well by 5am my mum was on her way over (a blessing and a necessity being that my h-band wasnt able to drive), my husband was calling our Obstetrican to tell him we were leaving for the hospital and my contractions were 2 minutes apart. By 5.15am we were in the car, mum driving like a mad thing while my h-band timed my contractions that were now 1 minute apart with a 40 minute car journey ahead of us. The pain was completley manageable and while I felt my baby was imminent it was not what I had expected of labour so did wonder if infact this really was it.

Funnily enough our Obstetrician didnt make it to the hospital in time, it was when my h-band called him to let him know we were leaving for the hospital he told him he was actually on Easter holiday, around 3 hours drive away. When my husband very subtly told me this in the car I think he expected it would send me into crazy lady territory. To be honest I really suprised myself in the whole situation. With the possible complications that could arise during this labour, with my history and already hightened anxiety I would have thought that the fact that this baby was arriving 4 weeks early and my Obstetrician who knew all about my AS was now not going to be at the hospital to meet us would have sent me into a total panic attack. All I can say is that its like something took over. I listened to my body and kind of went into an internal state (I do realise how totally cheesey that sounds, 1 step away from birthing in a forest right).

40 minutes after arriving at hospital at 6.49am on Saturday 15th April our son was born, with my husband on one side, my mum on the other and a very calming Irish midwife between my legs. I wish I could relay this beautiful soul moving experience but to be honest with you my body took over and I was left in shock. It happened so quickly I only have a very vague memory of our birth. He was 4 weeks early but he was healthy and he was perfect. Our Obstetrician walked into the labour room sometime after our son arrived (I have no concept of time), I wanted to yell “we did it”! We hadnt completey done it, I had retained placenta which is a common side effect of Ashermans Syndrome and something we suspected may happen so off we went to theatre. Leaving my brand new little family to go into surgery was the hardest part of it all. I knew my son was with my husband so I was not worried I just wanted to be with them.

My body carried my son for as long as it could and for that I was grateful as it had done an outstanding job. Our Obstetrician said he was impressed I had carried him for that long. Although my uterus is a million times better than what it once was its by no means a picture of perfection. We spent a week in hospital before heading home. I had to pinch myself every single day, was this really my son, was our time really here. We had done it, we had travelled our path and we had been rewarded with this perfect being, words cant explain the pure appreciation I felt. Whilst I have not forgotten the heart break we have experienced I know without doubt we are the luckiest people alive!