Episode 5:
I am so excited to share the birth story of baby Oliver, which belongs to the beautiful Cat. Not only is she a fellow blogger, has a baby boy with the same name as mine, but also happens to be my next door neighbour. Cat had been put on bed rest at 34 weeks due to her amniotic fluid being low. They were hoping that bed rest would help keep her baby baking for a few more weeks until they got to 37 weeks. Cat and her husband went for their scheduled checkup, and from that moment, the plan
changed.
This day. A day that passed in a blur of emotions, nerves and adrenaline but yet one that I can remember every detail leading up to the moment time stood still and my whole world changed. There is not a single book, blog post or conversation that could ever have prepared me for the overwhelming tidal wave love that hit me the moment I met my tiny human for the first time. I don’t think I will ever forget how soft his little forehead was beneath my lips as I kissed him for the first time, how tiny his little hand was wrapped around my finger. Now, a few months later, I sit here writing this post with one hand while he sleeps so peacefully in my arms. Where the weeks have gone, I couldn’t tell you but as I look back on those first few newborn weeks, I can feel the tears as I think about the rough start my tiny premie had but at the same time, I’m blown away by how far he’s come.
Our little made his rather hasty arrival at 35 weeks on Thursday, 19 October 2017 at 1.29pm. I had been put on bed rest at 34 weeks as my amniotic fluid was low with the aim of trying to keep baby baking until 37 weeks. Oh but did he have other ideas! My husband picked me up from work and we arrived for my weekly appointment at 10am to be told baby would be delivered on Monday as my fluid had dropped and he hadn’t grown in the last week. That was the first surprise and we quickly thought about the weekend away that we needed to cancel and what nursery things we still needed to get! That lasted all of 5 minutes when my doctor then told me I was actually already in labour so my ceaser would be scheduled for 6am the next morning. So much for Braxton Hicks – I’d actually been having contractions (little did I know that I had been making my husband rather nervous the night before when I casually commented that they were a lot stronger than they had been!) Before going home, we went across to the labour ward with the hope of having a steroid injection to help baby’s lungs as he was so early. After about half an hour on the monitors with my husband and I debating where we should go for dinner (and me Googling what time Sorbet was open until so I could get my nails done…) the nurse came in to say baby’s heart rate was decelerating and we had 15 minutes. My head still spins when I think about how fast the doctors and nurses all worked to make sure our little boy arrived safely in this world. Before I knew it, I was laying in theatre and my husband was placing this tiny blue bundle in my arms. Nothing in this world could have prepared me for that moment. A moment that literally took my breath away and time stood still. I became a mommy.
When it comes to babies and your birth plan, everyone always has a plan or a vision of how they see themselves giving birth and I was no exception but natural, Caesar, drug-free, waterbirth, at the end of the day there is only so much planning you can do. I had a Caesar scheduled for 39 weeks and I thought I would stroll into the hospital on the morning I was due and calmly deliver my baby. Oh how wrong I was! I could have managed the chaotic, adrenaline filled arrival because babies do have their own agendas but I was not mentally prepared what followed. Not getting to hold my baby (other than the few seconds in the delivery room) and then only getting to see him again the following day in NICU was exceptionally difficult. Then, seeing this tiny little human hooked up to so many machines and on oxygen broke my heart. I kept thinking to myself that this was just not how it was meant to be. Finally, after three long days, countless trips from the ward to the NICU and an insurmountable number of tears, he was off oxygen and I was able to hold my baby. Before he could go home though, he needed to learn how to feed which meant leaving him behind while I went home and I can honestly say that this was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I cried and cried and cried some more. It didn’t matter that I would be spending most of my days back in the NICU or that I only lived 10 minutes away from the hospital. What mattered was that he wasn’t coming home with me in his cute little outfit I’d packed so many weeks before, he wasn’t going to be with me after having his heart beat alngside mine for almost 8 months… But, before I knew it, I was back at the hospital and with a week filled with scheduled feeds, expressing, trips up and down to the hospital and so many firsts, the week passed by in a blur and after 10 days, just in time for my husband’s birthday, we were able to bring Oliver home.
When I look at him now, my cubby, long-eyelashed, smiling little baby, it’s hard to believe
he’s the same tiny bundle who arrived in such a hurry. I have always been a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and looking back now, I’ve definitely found a few silver linings. How lucky were we to get so much bonus time with our beautiful baby boy! He couldn’t wait to meet us and blessed us with 5 extra weeks to love and cuddle him. The support and care the neonatal ICU staff gave not only to Oliver but us as new parents, was nothing short of amazing and those 10 days helped us to find our feet and learn a few tricks that made going home with our newborn a little less daunting. My special roomie in hospital who had her premie on the same day as me, was such an incredible support and a much needed hand to hold while we walked the corridors up and down to the NICU every day – we’ve now progressed to coffee dates and sun-downers! And the wonderful group of fellow-NICU mommies – I love that we are all on a WhatsApp group together to ask advice, offer support and schedule coffee dates! And lastly, but the most important, is how close this experience brought my husband and I. I always knew I had a gem but I couldn’t have wished for a better teammate to do life with.
Read more about Cat on her blog, Boots In The Big City.
in class that night about a “birth plan”. As type A as I was, I don’t think I’d have the courage to fight a doctor when being pressured me to have a C-section for a variety of risks and safety reasons, and apparently that happened more often than not in South Africa. I was warned by the nurse at class that night and heard all the second-hand birthing stories of my nervous mom-to-be comrades.
epidural was a must (I’m no wonder woman) and that we’d like a natural birth but that we’d ultimately trust our doctor to make the decision. We didn’t know if we were going to welcome a little girl or a boy into this world, which added to the excitement and anticipation.
My hospital bag was already packed and we were ready. So began 13 hours of labour after induction. In all that time, very little happened in terms of the progression of active labour and dilation. That was when we decided, on the doctor’s advice and for the sake of our baby, to do a C-section. I remember the doctor saying OK, guys, let’s do this and looking at my husband who was nervous, slightly panicked and, in fact, looked like he was the one about to give birth. We didn’t have a doula. My husband was that and more. He was kind, calm and loving and in the delivery room it felt like it was just the two of us in our own world.
Episode 2:
home, went for a walk and got some things organized in the house. Around 6pm contractions started to get more regular. At 9pm we messaged our doula about the developments and to keep close by in case things progressed. She came through to our place around 11pm and we laboured at home till 3pm when we decided to move over to the hospital. Luckily we got there pretty quickly, 30 minutes because I was super uncomfortable sitting. Standing was my position, even lying down was painful. We got to hospital and I was at 6 centimeters. I finally completely relaxed. Hospital is clearly where I needed to be to feel safe and secure for me to birth my baby.
That evening Chris had to bath me and on our way back from the wash room I fainted, completely blanked out and woke up on the floor with nurses surrounding me. I had lost a lot of blood during the stitching. The next day I had 3 pints of blood which took 10 hours to put in and I will never wish this on anyone.
Some people gave good advice and others were a little ‘off the mark.’ I have to be honest though many people painted sunshine and roses and that’s what I expected. When reality set in my pregnancy had a mind of its own. I was nauseous every single day until the day I gave birth. I also opted for a natural birth and gave my Doctor quite the scolding when he told me my daughter hadn’t locked into position and I might have to have a caesarean. I was determined that it won’t happen to me and I will give birth the natural way.
When she was born she screamed like a trooper. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and so tiny, with her little hands and feet and it was right there that I felt as if a hole in my heart was filled because of her.
My children are now both six and three and they are expert chatterboxes who keep me on my toes everyday. Their love is unconditional and the moments we share are so precious. I don’t get much sleep, I get sick a lot, I have to be stern in discipline and time outs exhaust me but gosh when they give me kisses, tell me they love me, clean up their room (okay my daughter is the only one doing it for now but still a bonus!) or when my three old shouts ‘bubbles bubbles’ for bath time I know that I am truly happy and blessed and wouldn’t trade these moments (even the tough ones) for anything. I feel so proud that they chose me to be their Mom.”
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