Pregnancy's ugly side

Do those women really exist?? You know the ones, the really fit ones that have a better pregnancy body than me at my best when not pregnant.. She sports a beautiful tan all year round, has toned arms, no orange peel skin, you can see where her leg finishes and her ankle begins, her hair is perfect and of course she's glowing so much she does not need make up, and don't get me started on her wardrobe.. I was totally going to be her, every time I got pregnant, I was going to be different, I was going to be that sexy mofo and I wasn't going to have to get up at 6am every morning to achieve it, it was going to come naturally. A lot of things came naturally during pregnancy but not one of them were what's written above. 

Orange peel skin on my arms..yes! Skin pigmentation on my face..yes! Eczema on my knees and elbows..yes! Fat arms and ankles..double yes! Stretch marks..yes but not that many on my belly, mine decided to reside on my ass and thighs..bastards!! All of which I told myself I would work on after pregnancy, no big deal, a little bit of dedication to my body would be all it took. I'm on my third pregnancy now and I still tell myself that after this one that's it, I'm gonna have the body I've always dreamt of. To think I was like a rake when I was a teenager and ate like a horse, all I wanted was to gain a few pounds but couldn't. Then BOOM! I hit my 20's and the pounds rolled in.. just not the ones I would have hoped for.

I'm not one of those women that enjoy pregnancy all that much, in my first pregnancy I kind of felt I shouldn't admit that because I'm growing a baby inside me, and some women could only dream of that and people would think I was ungrateful. I definitely was not ungrateful and count my lucky stars every day but I couldn't keep up the 'loving being pregnant' charade for long. I know lots of woman that love pregnancy and I guess everyone has a different experience. Now ladies that haven't had their own experience on this yet.. don't let mine scare you, this is just one moany old cow's experience and will be much different to another not so moany cow.

My first pregnancy was the worst, so any pregnancy that followed was going to be a walk in the park and to be fair my second was pretty much just that. My third is becoming more like a wheelchair ride in the park if my pelvis keeps going the way it is. Oh momma, the pelvis pain is a biatch. I didn't really suffer with it in my other pregnancies but now it has me walking with legs spread, arse cocked out and a face like I just stepped in dog shit.

The first pregnancy really deserves it's own blog post, to be honest I've thought about doing it a few times but never had the bottle because I've never really spoke about it to anyone so going from that to telling everyone will take a bit of courage. Basically I had prenatal and post natal depression and probably only came to really understand it myself recently so I'll get to that blog in the future and tell my story. 

But more of what I didn't expect when expecting was migraines, sciatica, pelvis pain.. You hear you're going to be tired and may have morning sickness and or in a lot of cases all day sickness but there is so much more you learn the hard way. Not that you could do anything to prevent it but I personally found it helped to ground my unborn child until they turn 18 for the pain they put me through during pregnancy.. but each to their own.

Seriously though the stigma on pregnancy has changed a lot. I fell pregnant with my first this time 4 years ago and maybe it was because it was my first but I felt the midwives and doctors put the fear of god into me about what you should and should not be doing and shame on you if you weren't going to breastfeed. I didn't know any different so you go along with whatever they tell you because they are the professionals after all but in my next two pregnancies, breast feeding has not been mentioned to me once. After giving birth to Jesse my second baby, the midwives thought they might need to keep him over night in the extra care unit while I stay in the normal aftercare ward downstairs and so I asked what will that mean for me feeding him to which they responded "we will give him a bottle". Now if that was when I had Riley over 3 years ago it would have been a whole different ball game. I'm pretty sure they would have chained me to his bedside with my boob hanging over his nose just encase he fancied a sniff. They didn't have to take him after all so I went on to breastfeed as I had planned. I did so with both boys because I wanted to give it a go and turns out it worked for me. I know it does not for everyone which is sad for the women that really want to do it but their baby won't latch or they have inverted nipples and so on. Breastfeeding should be a choice made solely by the person who is choosing whether or not to do it and not by the pressure of anyone else around them that think they know better. If it's something you choose not to do or you simply cannot do it, please try not to be hard on yourself and don't think you will be missing out on a special bond because that is not the case. You and the baby you create and carried for nine months will bond just fine whatever choices you make on feeding them. 

With that being said, if you do decide to breast feed, let me give you a couple of tips that you may not be expecting. Again this is just my experience.

Day 3 is a bag of dicks!! By the end of it you will be frantically searching your hospital notes for the details of the Stork and a returns label but I assure you it gets better. Well it gets worse first but then it gets better. So day 3 works like this. Baby is getting used to being on the outside and is now ready for a proper feed, not the yellow drizzle they call colostrum, they want the white stuff and won't stop until they get it. Unfortunately all you got is the yellow drizzle but your new little bundle of wrinkles is just going to keep on sucking until that changes. So that's what happen ALL NIGHT LONG. 

Tip one: Keep swapping boobs. I didn't know to do this with my first born and as it was more comfortable to hold him on one side that's what I did and ended up with one Pamela Anderson size boob and one Keira Knightly size boob... great look as you can imagine. What I meant by 'it gets worse, then better' is that after all your baby's hard work at getting your milk to come through, you are now left with the burning pain of the devil on your burger sized bleeding cracked nipples. 

Tip two: For the next day or two hold your breath and curl your toes when your baby first latches on, and count.. just start counting. It will ease off by the time you hit 60 and by day 5 the pain is gone. If it's something you really want to do just know you need to persevere with that couple of days and it all gets a lot easier I promise.

Another tip on breastfeeding.. If you are going to leave your baby to go away for a night and plan on pumping during that night to keep the flow normal for when you get back to baby, DO IT. A full night sleep without having to get up to feed the baby is very tempting but when you don't pump and wake up drowning in your own breast milk feeling like someone has chained two kettle bells around your neck and left them hanging where your boobs should be then you realise, pumping for 10 minutes and going back to sleep is a much better option than the full night sleep... just saying!!

As for going pee pee after birth, take a bottle of luke warm water to the toilet with you and pour it over your foof as you go. It's simply the only way. If they offer you laxatives for your first poop, take the frickin laxatives!! The easier that bad boy comes out the better. 

I'm sure you will have heard of 'the baby blues' that come in the days after your baby is born. Don't be ashamed of them or try to hide them. In fact tell your partner about them before you even give birth because you can be sure he won't have had a clue about them. Let him know what to expect and not to worry or think you are going crazy, just tell him.. you're going to cry over dinner, half way through laughing at a joke, in the middle of the night and probably when he simply gives you a hug, just deal with it. Everyone goes through them, your body has been through so much change and your hormones will be everywhere so don't think it's anything less than normal. Have a big old cry and you will feel much better.

But as I was saying about there being a stigma on pregnancy and there after, I think society as a whole have become more lenient with the do's and don'ts of pregnancy, birth and parenting so the stigma has changed and evolved in so many ways in the past few years. It's not so scary anymore. People share their stories and have given up on pretence. I know I certainly have and it's the best feeling because it's one that's not so lonely. We are lucky to be part of this time and age. 

Now off I go for my 40th pee of the day.. peace out momma's xxx

Capture the memories.

My mornings consist of breakfast for the kids, coffee for me, a little play around while Cbeebies is on in the background. I tidy up, put on a wash, dress the boys all the while rocking my orange fluffy dressing gown, mascara stains under my eyes and 'baby hair' standing on end around my hairline. Then I will sort myself out. 

Usually Dave will have face timed us before I get to make myself anyway presentable and even after 10 years together where he has seen me give birth, he's held my hair back as I spew my guts up with one of my famous death hangovers, when it comes to the horrible lense that is face time I will cover half my face, and even during in depth conversations have the camera facing the kids rather than myself. When I do show myself I will be pulling very unattractive faces to poke fun at my tardiness rather than let my husband believe I think its anyway acceptable to look like this every morning he calls. He sees me this way when he is home but face time really does make you look fifty times worse than real life..or that's what I'm telling myself anyway. 

With that being said, the same goes for photographs. Even when I'm in full hair and make up I rarely get in a picture, I still don't feel worthy enough, there is always something about myself that will put me off. Shit, when did I become so hard on myself? I think it was when I had kids and my looks turned to shit, at least to me they did. 

So like all mums (unless you hate your kids and I'm sure you don't) your phone is filled with pictures of them. You don't have an ounce of storage left but you just can't bring yourself to delete one of them, even the one where they are picking their nose and crying their eyes out at the same time, it's not cute but you keep it anyway. 

This morning I looked through my phone and realised I don't have any family photos with me in them, apart from a couple of morning mascara selfies with the kids which usually get deleted straight away, there was two taken in the last year of me with my husband, and none of all of us together apart from one at Jesse's christening. I am always the one taking the pictures of the boys with their daddy. 

So bringing in my morbid side, I am someone that will always kiss and hug goodbye encase it's the last time. I will never leave or let you leave on bad terms encase its the last time. I will kiss my kids an extra kiss each night in case it's the last time. It's a fear I'm sure a lot of people have. But today I thought what if it actually was the last time, what if today something against my will had taken me from my family. Would my kids grow up to forget everything about me because I felt to ugly to get in a picture with them, so they never had one to treasure? What if today was the last time I see my husband, there would be very little of our precious memories stored on a camera of us together, growing up together, starting a family together. And what if it wasn't the last time, what if we all stayed around for a very long time and my kids grew older and moved out and started their own families, I myself wouldn't have any photos to look back on of me with my beautiful little bundles because I felt to ugly to get in a picture with them. 

I have one picture of just myself and my mother, one picture ever and it was on my wedding day, what if that was the last picture I got to take with her. No pictures of us just sitting together laughing at something silly or a picture over the Christmas dinner table, no memories captured. 

Having been living in England for the past 10 years I have missed out on a lot of memories being made within my family, birthdays, a few Christmas's, random nights out, new nieces and nephews coming into the world and this makes me sad. I don't want to waste anymore memories, I don't want to be the one watching the memories from behind the camera, I want to be in them. 

Becoming a mother made me forget myself, sit in the background and take in all that is beautiful around me but never letting myself be beautiful in it. I really did lose myself, I am a mother and a wife but my individuality disappeared when those roles came into play and that needs to change but only I can make that change so from today I am going to do just that. I don't mean I'm going to go around with my phone stuck to my hand all day taking selfies with every person I pass on the street but I am going to take photos and get in them. I'm going to print them and hang them on the wall. I'm not going to analyse every feature of my face and hide half of them because they showed my double chin. I'm going to embrace that double chin and my baby hair and every other part of me I criticise every day because if it was the last time, my children are not going to see any of those things, they are going to see their mother who in their eyes is beautiful no matter what. They will see the woman that brought them into the world and shared all these beautiful memories with them and captured them all to treasure forever, they will be grateful for that. I will be grateful for that. So don't waste any more time. Take a picture now and be in it, capture that memory and save it forever. Don't regret it being the last time.

P.S. These few pics show me today starting to get snap happy with my fambam xx

A little bit of the here and now

A little bit of the here and now

Sunday morning, I knew this was going to be a colourful week. I am the type of person who needs someone to blame as a coping mechanism if something goes wrong. It can never just be my fault at the time, it doesn't work that way. So this day it was my mother's fault. The clock in her kitchen was slow, she should have changed the battery, it is her fault I missed my flight back to London.

I ran into the airport with Jesse going at Lewis Hamilton speed in his buggy to be told the gate had closed five minutes ago. It depends what day you get me on, I may have argued with the lady that couldn't do anything about it, I may have cried but today I just said OK that's fine. That's probably why the lady seemed to feel bad for me, looked at Jesse, then at my protruding bump and gave me a sympathetic look. Nope that didn't get me on the flight, it just made me feel like raggedy Ann when I looked down to where she had been looking and seen I had a big dirty tyre mark across my bump while of course wearing white. I'm sure she was wondering how I managed to get run over by a pushchair but it must have happened in my fight to pull it out of the car boot in the rush to catch the flight. 

Anyway 100 Euros later we were booked on the evening flight to another airport that would bring my husband an extra 40 minutes drive to collect me right bang on the boys bedtime, cranky household all round this evening me thinks.. AND ITS ALL MY MOTHER'S FAULT!!

Monday went smoothly, got the kids to bed and just got comfy on the couch when Jesse started to cry, I lifted him out of his cot to be met with projectile vomit all down my front. He was hot and bothered and just not well bless him, he had caught the bug. I took him downstairs to calm him down and change his clothes when he vomited on me again, and again so we went back upstairs and I put him into my bed only for him to vomit again. It was going to be a long night. 

Five days later he has drank very little, eaten nothing and is now basically pissing out of his ass. He has been over the top clingy but you don't mind, your baby is sick, you just want to make him feel better.. for the first few days anyway. Now I'm losing my mind, he will not let me out of his sight and I'm just like, come on man this is getting old now, I'm pulling my hair out. 

Thank goodness Riley hasn't caught it from him, Everyday I'm waiting for him to throw up everywhere and yes on Wednesday morning he tells me he is really really sick and needs to see the doctor, when I ask him where the pain is, he tells me it is in his cheek so I think we're good on the bug front. Yesterday I was at work, he told Dave he was really sick again but it turns out he was just hungry. So apart from the fact he is going to be a major hypercondriac, he has so far escaped the dreaded bug.

On the plus and productive side of my week, I made a treacle cake for the first time which was a hit. Riley started to use the potty to take a dump yesterday so this is means to celebrate, no more secret shits under the table in his pants. And best of all, I became an Aunty again to a beautiful little girl, Daisy. 

Now it's Saturday night, I've managed to write this blog, Bridesmaids is on TV and I have a tub of Ben and Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie staring at me so I bid you a good night whatever it is you're doing after this long week with the kiddies. 

Third time's a charm!!

There are toys everywhere, EVERYWHERE!!! I've just climbed over a tower of cushions in the doorway to the kitchen, stood on a painfully spiky car, passed an open nappy thrown on the floor and shuffled through the dinner dishes to get a glass of water but it can all wait, the kids are in bed and I'm going to sit down and relax.

I'm one of those crazy people who have a baby and get broody over my own baby. Yep, MY baby made me want another baby. I mean, my husband should have known better, surely he has noticed my brain is mush at the moment. Usually he is quite level headed so I'm going to put it down to him not thinking with his head on this occasion. 

Delighted as I am, it's going to be hard. But I'm ready for that, having two kids is hard enough but to be honest I feel what's hard is the terrible twos. It is an extremely challenging time, maybe not for everyone but Riley is so boisterous, he never stops climbing, he is into everything and fears absolutely nothing. 

So I'm thinking why wait until Jesse is at that stage to have another baby, to then have the terrible twos a couple of years later again. Have the babies now close in age, let them grow together, learn from each others mistakes and maybe, just maybe they will distract each other from any wrong doings and we won't have any terrible twos.

 OK that last bit is obviously very unrealistic but I think there is some logic in this, they will entertain each other and hopefully rule out the jealousy Riley had for Jesse when he came along. 

So there it is, what I have been trying to convince myself with for the past few months. But I'm so excited to watch them all grow together, Riley is about to turn 3 in a couple of months and although he drives me mad sometimes, he makes me laugh so much, I am in awe of his personality and the little boy he is turning into. Jesse is obsessed with him, the way he looks at him makes my heart swell so why not add to the brood, why not love more. 

When they said 'Third time's a charm' they were not talking about pregnancy. I'm coming up on 14 weeks now and already starting to show. The first trimester was full of sickness this time around. And the tiredness, don't get me started on the tiredness. But I am looking forward to the rest, I'm even looking forward to another drink free birthday and Christmas because what's to come at the end of it all will be so worth it. I'm blessed with the children I have and to be given the chance to have another. I will moan and cry about the stress of a bad day with the kids but I would not change a single one of those days and at the end of each one I will thank god for all my blessings. 

Punch Anxiety In The Tits

Punch anxiety in the tits

When suffering from anxiety we tend to keep it to ourselves or within our family because we are afraid of what people will think. I guess we believe we're the only ones suffering because surely Annie or Jane doesn't have anxiety or depression, I can't tell them, they wouldn't understand. They would think I'm mad, losing it, not coping very well. I don't want their sympathy, I don't want them to think I'm any different to them.

When in fact the chances are at least one of them actually is suffering or have done in the past because it is a lot more common than we think and if we decided to open up more about these things we would realise that. Talking about it really helps, and if you think deep down someone is going to judge you wrongly for it then you need to think is this person someone you want to be talking to about anything at all.

I have suffered from anxiety from time to time, before I had kids I remember turning up at A&E one night thinking I was going to die because I couldn't breath, I felt I was going bat shit crazy. I was scared and felt if I'm at the hospital I have some chance. When sitting there like a crazy lunatic pleading with passing doctors to save me, I'm dying, I soon came to realise by how placid they were with me that I wasn't going to die as they kept telling me, it's not possible, you can't die from a panic or anxiety attack. (Ugh I go red just thinking about it but at the time it was very real.) 

These episodes are in fact played out in our minds, as hard as that is to think when going through an anxiety attack, you try to tell yourself to breath, to think of something else but that just works you up even more. 

About 6 months after Riley was born I started having anxiety while driving, every time I would get in the car I wouldn't be able to breath, it was a nightmare. I needed to do something about it. OK I know I can't die from anxiety so I need to stop working myself up so much, when I feel one coming on just try and relax, occupy my mind, call someone for a quick chat (not about the pending anxiety attack because that will make it worse) just take my mind off it without too much infuses. 

It takes most people a while to understand where their panic and anxiety stem from, because in most cases its not obvious. I've often sat down and thought about it, I'm not stressing about anything, everything is fine at the moment, I can't think why I'm going through this, but it's not necessarily a situation from that day that's brought you here but just life as a whole, not being entirely happy in a job, or a relationship, being tired, a new mom, new dad, taking too much on, trying to juggle life, money problems, LIFE. That's why more people than you realise suffer from depression or anxiety, because we're all human and not one of our lives are perfect, not by a long shot and sometimes life gets on top of us, we just have to learn to get back on top of our lives.

One person I know who suffered terribly bad with anxiety having multiple episodes a day found hers stemmed from the implant in her arm, which was due to be removed had being playing havoc with her hormones resulting in the anxiety attacks from hell. 

Another person gave up coffee and his anxiety subsided massively.

A couple of people have recently told me they want more kids but have suffered so bad with anxiety with previous pregnancies and thereafter that they are scared it will happen again and are put off by it. That really saddens me because we should not let it get the better of us, it should not jeopardise any part of our being or our future, only we can help ourselves get out of this rut. It's down to the person suffering to beat it, to not let it hold us back, whether it getting out of bed, or leaving the house, or having another baby. Anxiety is triggered by something inside you, you are in charge of your own body, therefore you need to understand your body and what it is that's letting anxiety take over and punch it in the tits. But most importantly don't be ashamed of it, if you feel it will help to talk about it then talk to whoever the hell will listen because they might just be able give you the tips that helped them, help you.

Keeping up with the Joneses

Keeping up with the Joneses 

I've become a better person recently, I've learned to take things in my stride, not lose my shit every time Riley has a tantrum or both kids are crying at the same time pulling me in every direction. I hold my breath and count to 10 when my husband can't seem to ever find anything I send him to get even though it's exactly where I told him it would be. I've learned to take my mother in law with a pinch of salt and just agree with everything she says and then let it go, not blow a fuse later that evening with smoke coming out my ears just because she told me I need to go to more baby groups or that I should try Riley with vegetables again. I tried him with vegetables yesterday bitch now back the f**k off. 

People have asked me "Is it much harder now you have two kids?" and I would answer "no" because I really don't find it harder. My answer would surprise myself as well as the person that asked, who I'm sure would think I was lying. 

So I had to think about why I don't find it harder and the truth is when I had my first child I was trying so hard to do and have everything perfect, the way I thought I had to in the eyes of society, worrying about what others thought and trying to keep up. 

Working hard to get back to a size 8 straight after giving birth, having my child in a perfect routine, eating vegetables like they're chocolate bars, not letting him watch too much cartoons, reading 50 books a day, teaching him a full vocabulary by the time he is 9 months old..you get the picture and the picture is not realistic.

The weeks following birth are a whirlwind of emotions, especially with your first. You find yourself questioning everything. 'Am I doing it right? why is he crying? do you think he wants to feed again? do you think he's too hot? Oh look, his shit has changed colour again.. Let me just check another baby forum online for the 15000th time today.' 

People tell you to make sure to sleep when the baby sleeps, I never did this. I would try get things done around the house, sort out his clothes, have a coffee or a hot meal for once, all while standing on my tip toes in fear of waking the dragon.

You dream of the night they will sleep all the way through and then when that finally happens, you're up every hour to check if they're still breathing. Then you wake your other half to show him the baby sleeping with his hand placed gently under his face because its the cutest thing you have ever seen.. It's the middle of the night, HE DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT!!

That is how it started for me, then my husband went back to work after paternity leave and I was alone with this baby, this new status for my existence. What do I do with it. I have to be the perfect mom. I have to show the world I'm capable, I've got this. 

So this is how my day will plan out..

Once I've sorted out the baby with his morning feed and dress him up in a cute little outfit, I have a gruelling hour long workout, I shower and get myself dressed in a lovely summer dress that complements my beautifully slim toned body that just bounced back after giving birth, make up on and hair looking like I just left the hairdressers ready to take on the world. Leave my spotlessly clean house, all the laundry done and dinner in the slow cooker ready for the evening, everything i need in the diaper bag all neatly packed and off I go to baby group, coffee with friends, food shopping, soft play and maybe a walk in the park.

That's how it works right? The sun is always shining, the birds are always singing, I'm going to be full of energy all the time and never end a day without everything ticked off the list I made that morning. 

Well I soon found out that the movies I had been watching are full of shit..this is not real life, not in my world anyway.

Since I've had my second child I learned to stop the madness because what I was trying to achieve as a parent was not perfection. Not for my family and not for me because I wasn't happy doing it. It was exhausting and to be honest it was getting us nowhere. Now we take each day as it comes, I'm not a size 8 but I'm happy, we read books but for fun and sometimes we will have cartoons on all day because that's just the way it works out and there's nothing wrong with that. We're happy and healthy and that's all that matters. And this is why I believe life is easier now, no matter how many children I have, It all depends on the mind frame you have set yourself. 

If we want to go to the park we will go to the park, I don't need make up on, I don't need to wear a nice outfit. It's the park and Riley will want me to play and run and crawl around like an animal with him so I throw my hair up, stick on something comfortable and spend my time playing with my son and caring only about what he thinks of me, which is probably that I'm the best fun ever nowadays. I don't constantly clean up toys all day after Riley pulls them all out because as soon as I've tidied them away he will pull them out again. 

My son will probably push another child at soft play, he wont always wait his turn to go down the slide, he will probably scream the place down because he wants crisps, not a sandwich. 

But every experience is a new one for a 2 year old, they are learning every day and trying to control a million emotions and sometimes they just don't want to play by the rules. 

I think this also goes for us parents so I don't think we should be too hard on ourselves because if you're anything like me, motherhood is not all you expected it to be. It's bloody hard, some days it's a living nightmare so I think we should give ourselves a pat on the back, or buy ourselves a box of chocolates or a bottle of wine.. better still do all 3 because we are doing a great job and we deserve it.

I'm in labour, get me to the hospital...stop at McDonald's on the way though ya?

I'm in labour, get me to the hospital...stop at McDonald's on the way though ya?

My second round at child birth was much easier than the first, actually so was the pregnancy. My first was filled with crazy hormones, insane migraines and prenatal depression, I hated being pregnant. 
After giving birth and becoming a bit more bearable to be around, my husband told me that after work he used to sit in his van for 10 minutes afraid to come indoors. I really was a nightmare. 

Birth was scary, and bloody painful. I remember my midwife telling me at 3 centimetres I had to hit 4 before I could get the epidural, if I wasn't bent over the bed in crippling stillness I would have choked the bitch right there in that room. Gas and air was always made sound like a party but it made me feel sick, Dave made the most of it though, he deserved it after the 10 months he had endured. 
I can not understand how women can go through the whole process with little or no pain relief, hats off to you, I can barely hold back the tears just getting a wax.

12 hours later after forceps, episiotomy (a lifetime of emotional scars for Dave after witnessing episiotomy with what he described as a garden scissors) and too much epidural which resulted in me being sedated for an hour, Our first son Riley was born. 

I've heard women say once you hold your bundle of joy in your arms you forget all about the pain of child birth...do ya feck!! Don't listen to those women, they're lying, it is still lodged all too clearly in my mind.

Pregnancy No.2 was a prettier picture. Dave would comment about what a dream I was and how sometimes he would forget I was even pregnant. I noticed he was home from work on time a lot more this pregnancy too. 
I didn't have any depression this time, I did get the headaches but knowing what worked for them last time I was able knock them on the head fairly quickly (pardon the pun). I was joyful, dare i say glowing. 

All that being said, I still could not wait to get the baby out so the evening it all began I had been bouncing on the birthing ball for hours. I could feel the baby moving further down with every bounce but didn't get too excited as the days leading up to this one I tried just about everything there was going on the Internet and nothing worked. But low and behold just as we got into bed, the contractions started and sped up fairly quickly so off we went to the hospital. 

A couple of hours later we were sent home as they were low staffed and I still had a bit to go. It was around 2am at this point but I happily went as I was starving and all that was going through my head was McDonald's drive thru. IT WAS CLOSED!!

6am I had had enough I needed to get back to McDonald's..I mean..hospital, but sure it was on the way. It was open this time but after all that I couldn't eat it. I was in agony, Dave thought he would take a shortcut (it saved all of 15 seconds) the shortcut brought us in one side of a petrol station and out the other, but the station had 8 speed bumps to get over...I didn't say anything I just turned my head and gave him 'the look'. God love him he thought he was doing right. 

We got to the hospital, all hooked up in triage I was told I had to go straight to the delivery suite. Not because I was so far gone, they hadn't even checked that yet. No, it was because my heart rate was dropping and speeding up at a crazy rate. I tried to reassure everyone it was probably just the coffee I had from McDonald's as they all seemed as worried as I secretly was. Well, Dave was being very cool about the whole situation, a bit too cool for my liking. I thought, Jasus you're a heartless bastard but afterwards he told me he was a nervous wreck and was putting on an act for my sake. 
So there it was, the moment I realised I might die today. As if the day wasn't bad enough already having no sleep, the obvious pain of labour and my failed attempt at the lovely looking MaccyD pancakes despite my starvation. 
Doctor after doctor came to poke and prod and give their thoughts on the dodgy ticker but to no avail, thankfully I'm still here to tell the tale. 

Surprisingly enough the pain held up a little bit, NOOOOO this means I'm going home but then my waters broke. I was asked if I wanted the epidural now, the pain wasn't really that bad anymore but I wasn't taking any chances so yes if you're offering, why not.

The day drew on hour after hour talking shit to the midwife asking all the questions I'm sure she's answered a hundred times before. "Do many people record the birth? I think that's a bit weird myself." 

Okay, less talking, THE HEAD IS COMING.. Dave and Megan (the midwife) looked on with such excitement on their faces.. To hell with it I wanna see "here Dave record it". They both just looked up at me. "Yes I know what I said earlier but I don't care I want to see why your faces look like a fat kid at a hotdog stand, record it".

16 minutes was all the pushing took and out he came looking like a smurf that just emerged from a swamp, another beautiful boy. I remember thinking oh you are gorgeous but your covered in a whole lot of yuk so we will save the kisses for later, no offence Jesse. 

After we settled down and I had been yet again stitched up, I had a look at the video. If I blurred out what my vagina looked like at that moment in time and just focused on the little head making it's debut then yes, it was amazing to watch but just once, then it had to be deleted. I never wanted to look at that godawful image of my nether regions again.

There I was, a year down the line and 9 days away from my third baby's due date (yep - I'm that crazy) making the coolest cake ever for Jesse's 1st birthday when I started to feel a bit queezy and no I wasn't eating the raw ingredients I swear. The day moved on with that sickly feeling but no symptoms of an impending labour until 8pm that evening. Boys were in bed, I was watching TV and the contractions started. There had been many a night previous to this one where I told my husband "this is it, we're having the baby tonight" but then I'd just let out some wind or something and panic over but this was different, you know when you know. 

The contractions weren't that painful but they were coming every couple of minutes so we headed to the hospital as I didn't want to take any chances with number three shooting out like they say it can. (Bucket vagina and all that)
Got to the hospital at 10.30pm and there was literally a que of women in labour waiting to push a push pop, I swear I felt like I was in Starbucks. Luckily Evie was in no big hurry at this point as it was 1am before I was check over. At only 1cm I thought we we're going to be sent on our bike but they said because it's my third, things might happen quickly so I should stay over night. (Bucket vagina comes to mind again)
We walked to the ward and I told Dave to go to the car and get my hospital bag and then take himself off home as nothing was happening... When he came back 5 minutes later with my bag I was on all fours and mooing like a cow. Midwife did the check and I was 2cm, how could this be?? I was in agony. 20 minutes past and things were only getting worse so she checked again, 5cm.

I was wheeled up to the delivery suite on a chair and up onto the bed. I could feel the head coming but I kept screaming for the epidural. I knew that wouldn't be possible but god loves a trier. No position was helping these pains and I had tried every one of them. In the end I just put my arms around Dave's neck and pulled myself up against his strength during every contraction. There wasn't even a pause between them now and my body just took over, there was sound coming from my mouth I couldn't even control. Then there was the head. Oh no how do shoulders come next.. I remember at that moment (and Dave's favourite part of the labour) I shouted "Kill me, Kill me now!!" and I was serious but thankfully they didn't and out squeezed the shoulder.. the rest just swam out. 

Having had epidural with both my other labours and not even a paracetamol with this one I feel like it was the first time I actually gave birth. I used to say "awe it's not bad giving birth, I actually enjoy it a bit". I will most certainly not be saying that again. 
Holding the beautiful Evie in my arms, I was swarmed by what seemed like 20 doctors around me. They were frantically sticking needles in both my hands and kept missing veins with all the rushing. They told me I was losing a lot of blood, one doctor was pulling at the umbilical cord trying to get the placenta out. I felt myself fading out, my head sinking further into the pillows beneath me. Evie was in Dave's arms at this stage and I was just watching on like I was behind a screen. I remember thinking it was the end, I actually said my goodbyes to Dave and to pass it on to the boys. It seems a bit dramatic now thinking back but in that moment with everything that was happening around me it wasn't dramatic enough. Thankfully once the placenta came out, the bleeding slowed down and the panic was over.

I became the mother of a beautiful healthy girl to add to our boisterous household. No longer will I be bullied by boys, she will have my back (I hope). 

Labour is a scary thing, it rarely ever goes to plan and can come with it's complications but when you hold your bundle of joy at the end, it is worth it a million times over. 

(My husband is already talking about baby number 4.. I might have to kill him)