She arrived 2 weeks early. Well done Tiny! We are home and the girls are thrilled to have another sister. I am in the ‘bliss’ phase after delivering bubs. I am high on life and love and Tiny. I experienced this with Spike. With Booboo, colic had reared it’s ugly head by now and she cried from dusk until dawn. I was secretly worried that Tiny may be a colicky baby and I was starting to worry. But no, Tiny has read the baby manual. She sleeps, feeds and poops like a trooper.
There is is also something about having a third baby. You know what you’re doing. (or think so anyway). There’s none of the anxiety that comes with being a first time mum. I just know what to do. It’s nice. It means I can just enjoy her.
The night Tiny decided to arrive was Friday night, the night of the Broncos game. My husband said to me at the beginning of the game, “Can you make sure this baby doesn’t come tonight”? We both had a feeling that day that the baby would arrive.
At 8.30pm I start to feel some pressure down below. “We’re on” I call out from upstairs at half time. My husband is so relieved he won’t miss the game. The contractions are steady and by 10.30pm it is time to call Booboo’s God Mother who will stay the night with her and Spike. By midnight contractions are getting harder and painful and I remind my husband no drugs. He’s cranky. “I can do this” as I say those words the doubt enters my mind. Ouch. Last contraction is so painful. It hurts. I have an internal battle with myself in my mind. Breathe, yes I can do this, ahhhhh that hurts. This is the conversation I have with myself with every contraction. We get to hospital at 12.15am.
We hold last bets on what baby #3 is. I say girl. My husband says girl too. We arrive at the delivery ward. In the midst of a contraction, my husband says to me “Can we talk about the name we’ve chosen? I’ve been having doubts, what about xxxxx, instead?”. I’ve glared at him and whilst breathing through a contract agreed. “Whatever”. I hear myself say this. It’s not a bad name he’s chosen so I’m hoping I won’t regret this.
The contacts by 1 am are every 30 seconds. I am almost there. They don’t even check with pregnancy # 3. The midwife takes one look at me and says this is going to be fast. I start my stomping. I’ve stomped through all of my labours with the girls. It helps me take my mind off the pain. It is hurting like crazy. I stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp. I am moved into my labour room. The same room I had Spike and Booboo in. I know two of the nurses. One says to me “Back so soon?”. Yes, I think to myself. And all planned and all not quick enough for me. We don’t know what we are in for, clearly!
The mid wife thinks it’s time to lie down. I am using so much energy stomping. She wants me to reserve my energy for pushing. I lie down and the pain intensifies. My husband is holding my hands crossed over. The pain is so intense I am pulling them apart out of the criss cross position and at one point grab his pectoral muscle and turn it in a circular motion as I’m contracting. My wonderful husband doesn’t make a sound. Although the look in is eyes tells me I’ve hurt him. He doesn’t dare complain.
I am getting close to asking for help. The mid wife gives me the gas and I vomit. No more. I can’t take that. I then look into my husbands’ eyes and say “Help me”. Not a good thing to say. He tears up and is cross with me all at the same time. He asks for the Doctor and wants to see if they can administer an epidural. My Doctor has arrived. It’s too late. It’s 2.17am and he says the baby will be hear within 10 minutes. Just as each contraction ends, the pain heightens. How can it escalate like this so much? OMG.
I’m doing this naturally all the way if I like it or not. It hurts. It hurts like nothing else I’ve experienced before. I say prays to my mum (in heaven now) to give me strength. Now it’s time to push. I labour very quietly. I don’t push quietly. I don’t know from where but out comes this demon sounding scream from deep within. It’s me. I do this three times with each push and then the baby is here.
Tiny has arrived. A third little girl in exactly 3 years. She only weighs 2.2 kgs is 48cms long and another ginger. How do we make these babies? My Colombian looks have not featured yet again. I think Tiny is pinker than Booboo and her hair is definitely redder.
I am feeling like I’m on top of the world.
Wow! My body is amazing and I am honoured and humbled by the fact that we as women have this super power to make and deliver a human being.