Happy Birthday Son! But really, it’s the day you rocked my whole world!
Today is my sons birthday, and also the birth of me as a mother and adult woman with real purpose in life. It has made me reflect back to when he was first brought into the world and the baby bubble I was so lovingly wrapped up in. The most magical moments of discovering each other, getting to know his little personality, learning together and flourishing as the woman I was destined to be. It was also the start of some big changes and huge appreciation for life and creating a new one in which was the start of our family.
Having a child is a beautiful, empowering experience; especially the excitement of your first born. The unknown, the anticipation, the free time to sleep and ‘nesting’ in the nursery in preparation of the impending delivery. There is so much time spent wondering about how they will look, what the gender will be, what their future holds and who it is exactly that has been hiding in your swollen.
It really is a magical time, one that I reflect on with great pride and I know it was a huge turning point in my life. This little person was responsible for making me a mother, was responsible for making me think beyond just myself and was totally responsible for making me a better person, without a doubt.
The joy that he and all children bring is indescribable. After having my own children I have found the true meaning as to why I am here on this earth.
Motherhood, it fits me like a glove. I love it and my children more than life itself.
Nothing can quite prepare you for the overwhelming flood of emotions you will feel when your tiny little baby is placed on your chest, with or without a dramatic entrance. Having my child reach a special milestone like his 5th birthday today is pretty special, and as a mother it is a time of bittersweet reflection.
The boy I have gained and the baby who is no more. Baby clothes packed away and school decisions being made. Glimpses of a young adult about to bloom, with the whole world at his feet. As mothers we want them to always be close, but as mothers we want them to fly free and achieve great things.
The cord may have been physically cut but it is still very real and alive in my mind.
Childbirth is one of the most natural most natural events in the world, yet at the time it felt totally unnatural and just plain painful. To say the least. Honestly it hurt so much so that I actually forgot there was even a baby involved. Many, many colourful words were sprayed around the birthing room that night during my completely drug free labour, true grit, determination and focus was pulled from the very depths of my body that even I didn’t know I had. It’s hard, long painful work, but you will be more than rewarded at the end.
I thought I would be able to handle it. After meeting with girlfriends to discuss their thoughts on the whole process, I was sure I would have a higher pain threshold then them and thought to myself ‘it cant be that bad can it?’
Mother Nature had different plans for me. It was like nothing I have ever experienced or can even begin to describe, but now it all makes sense although it wasn’t until I had my second child that I discovered my first born was a compound birth.
Compound presentation means prolapse of fetal extremity alongside the presenting part it is three types: 1.prolapse of the hand in cephalic presentation. (most common) 2.prolapse of the lower extremity in breech presentation. 3.prolapse of lower extremity in cephalic presentation. (relatively rare) compound presentations uncommon occur only 1 in 1000 pregnancies.
means prolapse of fetal extremity alongside the presenting part it is three types: 1.prolapse of the hand In layman’s terms, he was born with his arm up along side his head. Just to make it that bit more epic, and to teach me that I shouldn’t have thought I had a stronger pain threshold than my friends I’m sure. And being nearly 9 pounds didn’t help much either. Ouch.
The midwife exclaimed “Oh your the lady that had the compound birth!” “Sorry, what do you mean?” was my reply when I was about to give birth three years and two weeks later to the day, for the second time, with just as much anxious fear as the first. But there it was written in my notes, and that explains a LOT of things now.
Why I couldn’t sit down for a week after. Why the thought of sex made me run for the hills. Why I thought I would have an only child.
The following is an extract from a note I wrote shortly after birth, in those magical whimsical early motherhood days.
So the birth went like this:- 7:00pm, Gentle contractions, similar to period pain begins so I ran myself a spa bath, shaved my legs, (and other regions) put on a face mask and relaxed in the candle lit bubble bath thinking of the beautiful and amazing changes my body was about to go through. I pondered the gender, and meeting the baby for the first time.
At 1:00am I ring the local hospital who calmly reassure me with “stay home if your comfortable”
Well it turns out you can stay home comfortably for too bloody long because next minute my pain level absolutely shoots through the fucking roof and I begin climbing the walls like a crazy woman trying to escape the zombie apocalypse, within 45 minutes my waters break everywhere!
Cascading over the bedroom carpet like the Niagara bloody falls, shit hits the fan and leaves a very freaked out husband and equally panicked soon to be new mother. Wearing the most amazing outfit (husbands boxer shorts and tent like t-shirt) we race to hospital and so begins the prudish nightmare. “Legs up, let’s have a look” 8cm on arrival…!
“I need an fucking epidural NOW!!!”
My doctor laughs this creepy little laugh with the midwife which tells me it’s way too late and I’m on my own. “Start pushing honey, this baby is nearly out” Argh, mortal dread realisation sets in, and as much as the doctor and nurse are here to help – I know this is something I have to do by myself.
I am crippled in pain, fear and the unknown. But mostly pain.
Somewhere in the background I can hear the CD I chose gently playing calming songs and all around it’s dark, quiet and dim. Thank you baby for deciding to come so early in the morning so nobody has to see me like this.
Hearing that music helps me to gain my laser like focus and really concentrate on the effort I am going to have to pull out of my ass. Almost literally.
Meanwhile Mr Diamonds is looking very pale and understandably nervous, anxious and down right out of his comfort zone. I think I’m breaking his hand and there’s no way I want him down at the business end.
Frankly I’d rather have no bloody one (ever!) gawking down at my business end. Pfttt. No modesty allowed in this entire damn hospital wing. As a last resort I am offered gas in the old school way by means of the claustrophobia causing face mask “YUK it tastes like fly spray get it AWAYYYY!”
Nothing can describe holding that baby for the first time. Marred by legs up and getting stitches, but still holding the baby for the first time none the less. I have a adrenalin rush for the rest of the day, how can I possibly sleep now? Wanting to show this gorgeous little fella that I made off to the whole world is a very overwhelming feeling, but so is feeling like a mother lioness raging with protection for this delicate little darling. You would do anything for them.
(And I’ve nearly forgotten the pain!)
This beautiful baby is mine for keeps and today he is five years old.
So Happy Birthday my handsome son, but really it’s the day you broke my vagina.