Labour of Love...Part One

Today is my original due date. And two weeks ago I was complaining. A lot. So much in fact, even I was getting annoyed with myself. I think Ryan started tuning me out and my voice became white noise to him. 

Those who know me and know me well, know that I'm not the most patient person in the world. At 36 weeks, even I was egging Little One on to enter the world. I just couldn't wait any longer. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was the size of Shamu and nothing (and I mean nothing) would fit around my waist. Even walking became a challenge, our last trip around Morrisons two Fridays back was like doing the final mile of Mt. Kilimanjaro. I've never actually climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro but being pregnant can compare to the life of a Sherpa (the weight is just strapped to your front rather than your back). 

So the 18th of November 2013 seemed light years ahead, I just couldn't wrap my head around it. In my third trimester I started telling people I knew Little One was going to be early. Like I had some sort of physic ability. The truth is, I thought if I said it enough it would happen. Turns out it worked! 

I wanted to share my experience of childbirth because the only person who told me the honest truth about it (and we discussed it at length...many many times) was my friend Carol. Ryan has already briefed me on the sorts of things I shouldn't say. The things others said to me about their experience of labour, during my pregnancy that scared the bejeezers out of me and which I found, admittedly, a wee bit annoying. 

I'm going to be honest. Perhaps a little too honest. But I feel this is my duty, as a woman and now as a mother of one. I'll share my story in parts and you, dear readers, can decide if you want to continue recounting my journey with me. 

So let's begin... 

They say that once you've had a baby you forget, almost immediately, the pain you felt (why else would woman have a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth...you get the idea). 

They lie. 

They say that in some parts of the world, a pregnant woman will give birth to her baby, strap him or her to her body and continue working in the fields. 

Really? 

Has this ever been documented? I'd like to see actual footage of a woman, in a field, giving birth to her baby and then strapping said baby to her body and continue hoeing the field for next years harvest. Until then, this remains an myth. 

They say that everybody has their own birthing experience and that no two labours are the same. 

This is true. 

As woman; we think, dress, speak, live, love as individuals. We are unique. And how we give birth to our young is no different. It's completely unique. And honest to God, you have no idea how you might handle labour and the entire birthing experience until you are in the throes of it all. Throughout my pregnancy this was the part that I feared the most. It drove me to tears. 

Then we watched one of these 'One Born Every Minute' type shows. It was the only one Ryan and I watched together and I remember laughing uncontrollably at his reaction at a baby being born face up rather than face down. But it was the words of a wise midwife that stuck with us both, she said that "anxiety causes fear, fear causes pain" and that stuck in my head during my final weeks. If I wasn't anxious then I wouldn't fear the inevitable. Everyday I'd say to myself; my body is built to do this naturally. 

My entire experience rejuvenated my belief in a higher power, call it what you will, I choose to call him God. I don't believe in coincidence, nothing really happens by chance. In the days running up to the birth of Oscar the stars aligned. 

And while the actual experience hurt - think giving birth to a baby hedgehog, whilst nursing the worst hangover of your entire life, on an empty stomach, while being shouted at by, what felt like, a team of crazed midwives...without being able to escape from the inevitable - it didn't even come close to how I had imagined it.

Carol, during my nine months of pregnancy, regularly kept  telling me the same thing the Nuns told her "your baby is coming out the same way it went in".

'Aint that the truth!                                                                          

....to be continued

~ Taken on 18th November 2013: Ryan, Sharon and Oscar, 9 days old ~

An open letter to our son...

Dear Little One,

I've written this in my head for ages, adding and editing it every day. And as I type this, you're not quite here yet. We have a short time to go, before you arrive and I know, if I'm anything like your Granny, I will be too emotional to get this all down in one go. And I also know that when you do finally get here, I won't want to put you down for a second, let alone long enough to type!

Daddy and I already have a plan that will see us keep these sorts of memories going, so when you're old enough we'll give you the key to this little treasure trove of thoughts, advice and support - the stuff we want to tell, but no doubt you will be too young to understand (or care!). This will be our very first tradition as a family of three. I've loved writing about you over you the months, knowing that one day you will get to read all of this and be very much a part of the journey.  

The day I found out I was pregnant with you, I couldn't believe God had blessed us so quickly. I woke Daddy from his deep sleep, waving a magical stick in his face, all he posted on FB that day was a smiley face and we were the only two that knew what that meant. You were in our lives now.

The first time we saw your little heart beat, at 7 weeks, was one of the best days of my life. We became your proud parents from that day forward and you have continued to amaze us ever since. You looked like a little chicken. At the next scan you looked a little like Charlie Brown and even had your little legs crossed, your Dad sits in this position when he watches TV. 

For the longest time, I felt I wasn't ready, that we'd not be able to give you all the things a little baby should have. I was also scared but not sure why. It dawned on me one-day, while standing at the sink, that all you need is; us, love and our time. You have that in abundance. And always will. 

And the reason I was so scared? Because I knew that as much as we love you, we'll be able to control the choices that affect your little life right from the beginning but in the big scheme of things, we're not in control of your little life at all. God is in control. He already knows what map you'll need for the journey that you'll go on. We'll protect you as much as it humanly possible and trust Him and His angels to do the rest.

We thought we almost lost you, at week 13, after telling all our friends just the day before at Daddys birthday our good news. It was Mothers Day in South Africa and as we waited in the emergency room, I knew that I wanted you more than anything in the world. I didn't just want a baby, I wanted you, the little miracle that you'd become, embedded inside me.  The doctors and nurses were so kind to us that day and as we drove home, relieved that you were okay, we suddenly realized how very fragile life is.

Your little mantra, which you hear daily is; "you're strong, you're healthy, you're kind". We know that you will live up to this every day. Be strong in character, make healthy choices and be kind to everyone whose life you'll undoubtedly touch. Daddy commented while driving home last night that even people who have never meet you always ask after you and are eager to know that you're okay, that you are indeed healthy. Such is the effect you've already had on people. Close or not.

If your little kicks are anything to go by, you will be an active little fella. You keep Daddy and I entertained every day. We love to go to bed early because we know that you'll be jumping about and we feel so connected to you. We have no clue as to whether or not we're feeling your little feet or a little arm; we just know that you're there (you're giving me a really good kick right now!). And we adore bonding with you.

We struggled to name you; we had the longest short list I've seen and even now we're not 100% sure what your name will end up being. If we end up calling you what I think we might...Daddy will tell you how he suggested it...but the truth is, you picked your own name and one day, when you're big enough to understand, Mommy will tell you the real story.

I washed a lot of your clothes today and said to Daddy it's like we're preparing for a visitor that's going to end up living with us for a very very long time. I can't wait to see you in all your little things. Daddy picked the outfit you will come home in and we will soon be getting your little bag ready along with my things...this is the final stage.

Kiddo, you will be here soon. We love you, unconditionally, already; Daddy kisses you every day, we speak to and cuddle you as much as possible. You've been present in our lives since the 13th March 2013. And I will truly miss the bond we've shared. Having you grow inside of me, all this time, I've known that this will be the closest we will ever be in the flesh. You will always have a piece of my heart though. And I of you. You are part Daddy's too, I hope that you inherit all of his beautiful attributes. God knows the world needs more people like your Daddy. In time you will learn what makes him so unique and why Mommy loves him more than anything in this world.

You are being born into a marriage that is a happy and cherished one. You've just completed it and made us a family. You are amazing already. This chapter is almost at an end and another is about to start. We can't wait. We can't wait to read bedtime stories to you, to play silly games, to hear you cry for the first time and make you laugh. To see what you look like and who you'll take after most. Will you be left handed or right? Will you have blue eyes or green? Who will you be? What will you like? We will find out soon enough and we know that we'll cherish every single day we're able to do so. 

We love you. Always. And greatly, Mommy & Daddy 

PS: I + I  = III

PPS: Oscar, you are now 5 days old and we've been home for two days, we can't get enough of you and each secretly steal kisses while you're sleeping. 

PPPS: Your Granny arrived today and she brought with her a blanket that my Granny made for your Aunty Kez (she was the first grandchild too), I got to use the blanket to and now it's your turn Little One to share in something that your Great Granny made for us when we were your size. We know she reads your blog and we're thinking about her a lot and so glad to have a little piece of family history.

At Silvermere, last family lunch before Uncle Steven went back to SA.

Happy Birthday Oscar!!! You are 0 years old

Oscar Haydn Smethurst under the family blanket.

38 Weeks...this is it!

With almost a week of maternity leave behind me, I'm at a loss as to what to do with myself. We've kept ourselves really busy though; we've been to the cinema...twice, had afternoon tea, I've spent quality time with my sister, built the crib (Ryan), made up the crib (Sharon), packed Little Ones bag for the hospital (Ryan & Sharon), put the pram together (Ryan...with some moral support from Jimmy and Angelique) and we've made sure the car seat fits in the car. The same can't be said about seeing if the pram actually fits in the boot. 

One thing I'm prolonging, with much procrastination, is packing my hospital bag. I've gathered most of my things, ordered a couple of bits from Amazon that I'm told will come in handy, rented a TENS device (something you connect to your back with sticky pads and electrodes - it gives you a little shock whenever you have a contraction - it's supposed to alleviate pain) and I have my snack pack ready. The magazine I bought for the hospital has been read...from cover to cover. I just can't seem to put all these items into one suitcase ready for the hospital. 

I procrastinate when I'm desperately trying the avoid doing something else. And I think that if everything of mine was packed in a neat little bag then that would signal that I'm ready. And I am. But I'm also not. 

I have made one of the worst mistakes a woman who is 38wks pregnant could make. It's my own stupid fault. I've been watching countless YouTube clips of woman giving birth. I tell myself it's in preparation for what's around the corner. It's like being back at school during exam time and I'm doing exactly what I used to do back then; rather than actually read the set English book (Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet), I've chosen to watch the video instead. And I've completely scared myself sh**less in the process.

If I don't have a bag packed for a trip, it means that I'm not actually going to go on said trip. At least that's how my logic works! 

I'm scared. I'm nervous. I'm fearful. I'm dreading going through labour. 

Like most things I procrastinate about; when I eventually get my backside into gear and do what I'm supposed to do, once the task has been completed, I sit back and wonder what all the fuss was about. Every. Single. Time. 

I keep running through what we learnt in our antenatal classes in my head; 

• Everyone's experience of giving birth will be different to mine 
• My body is designed for the next phase 
• Fear causes anxiety, anxiety causes pain so I should fear not 
• Just breathe 

So right now, I need to focus on the latter and not the former. And, yes, YouTube is totally banned until Little One has made his grand entrance. 

I've Clocked Out...

At 37wks, I have made it as far as I can on the work front and finally wrapped up today. I took part in a maternity workshop at work back in July and one of the things that really stuck with me was "don't leave before you leave" which is basically a nice way of saying don't take the p*** in the run up to your maternity leave. I wanted to leave with everything as it should be. 

My last week at work was not what I expected at all, it's been strange to say the least (more about that another time). I was going to finish-up tomorrow but decided last week that given it's my big sisters birthday, one of us deserves a lie-in and I've decided it should be me. So today was the day!

But today felt odd. 

I can only explain it like this; it's like taking part in that show "The Amazing Race", where a couple race other competitive couples around the world to various far flung destinations they've never heard off and along the way they have to take part in various weird challenges, like eating reindeer testicles or crafting habitable igloos out of ice with nothing but their bare hands...basically couples don't have a cotton clue what might be thrown at them AND they have to maintain a united front and not kill each other in the process. The couples that make it over the finish line in good time get to wake up the next day and get to do it all over again...what fun (!!!). 

This is what it feels like to go on maternity leave. 

It's a break from the only reality I've ever known since I started working. And I use the word 'break' loosely. It's not a holiday. Nor is it a competitive race.  It's a journey that Ryan and I are undertaking together, which will hopefully (fingers crossed) not include eating reindeer testicles or building igloos. But I'm sure we'll be faced with many challenges that will have us, taking a step back, cocking our heads to one side and looking on in absolute bewilderment.    

I've never ever been off work for more than three weeks, there was that one time I had my wisdom teeth out which wasn't a picnic either but I think giving birth to a tiny human is going to be a touch more painful. 

Saying goodbye to people today and yesterday was hard for lots of reasons but now our focus is as it should be. 

And it's never really goodbye I believe...it's 'until we see each other again'. Right now I'm looking forward to seeing someone else. 

Faith ~ Hope ~ Love

Well here we are. I'm 36wks and 3days. Following my midwife appointment this morning we were told that he's 'engaged', a whole two/fifths (2/5) which is good and means he's sitting as he should within my pelvis (I'm still not convinced he's going to fit - we have one more antenatal class this evening and I'm determined to see that baby-doll make it through the hole!). He could make an appearance in the next 2 to 3 weeks. By 37wks Little One would be considered full term.

Full term. 

And my mind boggles at how fast it's all gone. I'm in awe. The creation of life doesn't take very long in the big scheme of things. Around 248 days in fact to create a little person that will one day become an independent adult who will go on to have a family of his own one day. 

There is that age old saying about it taking a village to raise a child and this is true. When we found out I was expecting we very quickly started speaking about who'd take on the role as Godparent/s. I spent a lot of time thinking about this while we were in Italy earlier this year, on a boat going around Capri. When I told Ryan about my idea, he loved it as it meant we didn't have to pick just one person or couple. We could create our own little village. 

Faith 

One of my oldest and dearest friends has been in my life since I was 15. Richard remained the only person I'd ever met by chance (i.e. not through school, or work, or friends, or family) up until 2007 when 'chance' intervened again and I met the father of my soon-to-be-son. Richard and I have shared twenty years of friendship, the type of friendship where you can just pick-up where you left off and you don't need to explain where you've been for the last few months because it really doesn't matter (unless it was jail, but even then I think I'd be pretty accepting depending on the circumstances). It's the type of friendship that brings out the very best in you. A friendship that has spanned, provinces and then continents, divorce and utter heartbreak. Admittedly I only have a handful of friends that fit this description. And I believe a handful is all I'll ever need. Equally, Ryan is the same and the friends he has, have been in his life for a long time. Together we have two handfuls. One of the constants in Richards life has been his unwavering faith in God and it's been the same since I have known him. I know that we will be friends for another twenty, thirty, forty, or God willing, fifty years from now. 

I want our son to be blessed with this sort of friendship and never doubt that all he'll need in life is faith and a handful of friends. 

Hope 

He's been in my life since 2007 and the first time I met him the family resemblance between Ryan and his cousin Jimmy (James) was uncanny. Both Jimmy and Ryan suffered such personal loss that same year. And not being related to either of them at the time, or knowing their beloved, I merely stood in the background. I watched each go through their journeys of grief. I knew the 'before' and 'after' version of both Ryan and Jimmy and although time does heal - it never mends completely. The hole left in each others hearts has just grown a little smaller and I've slowly seen each return to their 'before' versions. When we found out that Little One was a boy we knew immediately that his middle name would be Haydn, in memory of Ryan's brother, who can never be replaced but will always be remembered. Jimmy epitomizes hope...just like his cousin. It's a wonderful Smethurst family trait as is their sense of humour, both are equally funny and if you didn't know they were cousins you'd automatically assume they were brothers. Both are genuine, fearless, half-cup-full-pick-yourself-up-dust-yourself-off sort of people. Which sums up hope for me. 

I want our son to know hope in a world that can sometimes seem completely hopeless and who better to teach him than his 2nd cousin. 

Love

One of the constants in my life has been my sister Kerry. When Ryan and I got married two years ago Kerry admitted that I was quite a painful little sister during her speech but that in the end I became quite useful. All little siblings are painful, they turn your life upside down and become your little shadow. As the years have gone by and we've grown older, I'm lucky that my sister has become my best friend. I wouldn't have become the woman I am had it not been for my older sister. We are so different; Kerry is patient, structured, really thoughtful and forgiving. I'm the polar opposite I think. We have never had an argument that has caused a divide between us. We never will. The love you share with family is unconditional. Family can drive you nuts too and hands down our families are crazy...but in a way that makes utter sense to us. My sister was hoping for a little niece, partly because she found a lot of things on Pinterest that would appeal to any little girl. It was Kerry who used to spark my imagination while growing up and I could so see her sharing the same adventures again. And she will. But not with a little niece...not yet anyway. 

Love is the most precious element in our lives, without it we're just drifting like boats without sails. Our son is already loved by us but he'll need to be shown by others to give it unconditionally and my big sister will teach him how. 

Faith, Hope and Love are all in place. Our village complete. We're ready and waiting Little One (don't be late, that's one trait of ours that we don't want you to inherit!)

Richard Faith and Mom on the Thames - July 10 2013

Jimmy Hope, Dad & Mom, Kerry Love in the backyard, last BBQ of the year
July 13 2013

The week that was...

This week saw us venture off to our first antenatal class, having booked our space back in July! These are held at the same hospital that Little One will venture into at some point next month, so the territory is very familiar. We still ended up getting lost finding our way to the lecture hall and were the second last couple to arrive, much to Ryan's horror! So every Wednesday during the month of October between 18:30 - 21:00 we'll be surrounded by other wide-eyed-first-time-parents. 

Our veteran Welsh midwife started with the simple stuff (yes, that's sarcasm) and presented our doe-eyed group with a baby-doll attached to a fake umbilical cord which was also attached to a fake placenta, which she annoyingly kept referring to as "the after birth" (I prefer the word "placenta") and a skeletal pelvis, which I can only assume was to be used at some point during the evening to demonstrate that said baby-doll could actually fit through this pelvic region. She never showed us that part, so I'm still not convinced.

"I want you to look at this and then describe in a word what 'pain' is?" said our midwife. 

To my surprise it was the men who took the lead on this one, coming up with words like; burn, sting, sharp, raw, throbbing...it was the word tear that drew a gasp from every single woman in the room, and we completed the list from there; uncomfortable, aching, tender, etc etc. Our midwife then explained that labour was in fact just a mix of a few of these things, yes, it would be uncomfortable and at times unbearable but it was only at the very end that it could be described as the men had put it. It actually made me feel very comfortable about the whole idea of actually giving birth. But ask me how I really feel about it once I gotten through it for real! 

We also discussed the stages one goes through. When you go into labour in the UK, you're advised to stay at home until your contractions are at least 3 minutes apart and have been for many many hours, especially if your water hasn't broken. If your water has broken...different story! 

On our way home Ryan and I agree that when I do go into labour, we're going into 'lock-down-mode'. There will be a media black-out; no social media, texting, calls or emails, I'm not sure how we'll both feel about things but I do know that giving a blow-by-blow of events will be added pressure and make me very nervous. 

So to celebrate our impending parenthood we had our last 'big night out' yesterday evening. My dear friend Ann celebrated her 40th birthday and since receiving the invite to her big bash back in August, I'd been really looking forward to it...and secretly calculated how big I might be as I'd have to find something suitable to wear! Last night was great, catching up with old friends as well as Kez & Mornay and being able to spend time in the company of adults before our lives change forever. I even managed to have a chat with the lovely Susie, who'd I'd never met before and who only noticed my bump 15 minutes into our conversation! 

I'm now entering week 34...we have 6 weeks to go or there about and have been told that Little One could come anytime between 2 weeks before or 2 weeks after our due date, so roughly from the 21 October we should be ready to go. 

I can't believe how fast it's all gone. 

Mom and Dads last night out...for a little while. 

Pregnancy: the more I learn, the less I know...

A month or so ago I shared eight things that I'd learnt so far during my pregnancy. The lessons haven't stopped and there is no sign of this easing off either; 

9. There are no flies on me

Literally! My pre-pregnancy wardrobe saw me wear a lot of dresses, because I've never mastered the art of the zipper. You see, I'm a little like a goldfish when it comes to using the loo, if I am indeed wearing trousers. Because within about 3 seconds; I'll get up, pull up and get out. I'll then be starred at for the rest of the afternoon.  And while I think people are looking at me, they are in fact looking at my knickers peeking through my trousers, trying to work out how best to tell me. I've gone entire days in this state. My pregnancy wardrobe has introduced me to elastic-waistbands. A dream to wear! They even have fake little lapels so that they look like proper zip up trousers. Genius! 

10. Babies kick...a lot

Pre-pregnancy, I thought babies in the womb kicked every now and again. Turns out this is a myth. This is something Hollywood has failed to portray correctly in it's films. Babies kick all...the...time. I'm not complaining at all. It's pure joy for me. And Ryan clambers over pillows or drops whatever he's doing to cop-a-feel of my belly when Little One is doing the Harlem Shake. He's got a routine too, he's super active first thing in the morning, around lunch time until afternoon tea and again in the evening and more so when we're getting ready to sleep. So pretty much the entire day!

11. Nesting isn't just a female thing

Enough said. 

I will add that I really don't understand what nesting is all about because the last person who is going to notice all the effort that we've put in to cleaning, painting, primping and pruning is Little One. The concept will be lost on him entirely even though it's in preparation for his big arrival.

12. Everyone has a story

I actually love this part of pregnancy; from the ladies at the pool who have kids, to the old man waiting for the bus, to the plumber, painter and electrician we've had come through doors in the last couple of weeks (see point above...I wasn't kidding about nesting). Everyone has a story to share, a kind word to say or some good old fashioned advice. I'm bigger now, so there is no mistaking that I am indeed pregnant rather than built like the Pillsbury dough boy, so strangers will strike up a conversation at the drop of a hat. 

13. I'm no longer a hippo

I've been replaced by a tortoise instead. Except my shell is on my front not my back. I need help getting up off the floor (don't ask) or deep sunken sofa's. That whole "lift the weight of things with your lower body as it will put less stress on your back"...complete and utter nonsense. Try squatting on the floor with your knees bent and then lift yourself, unaided, with what feels like an extra 8kgs strapped to your belly? Try it. I double dare you. Try it while holding 3 frozen chickens for full effect.    

14. Emotions run high 

I'm very emotional. And not just with the tears. I get really angry too. And at things that I wouldn't usually give a toss about, which also makes me cry! Ryan and I have been together for almost 7 years and in that time he's seen me have two panic attacks; once when I thought I'd killed my sisters cat (that's a story for another time) and just last week for no apparent reason at all! I cry just thinking about what Little One is going to look sleeping in his crib and what he might look like all curled up on the sofa with his Dad. I cry when I hear other people crying. It's just never ending. Pass me a tissue! 

15. Never wear your husband belt...without giving it a test run first

This is what I discovered today; I managed to get into a pair of pre-pregnancy trousers this morning but had to improvise on how to keep them up. My usual BellyBelt wasn't quite up to the job. Now the belt I picked wasn't exactly traditional, more 'street' and the buckle resembled something you'd find on an airplane seat-belt. It matched my outfit perfectly. But rushing between meetings, I ended up, marooned in the bathroom at work, trying to figure out how to get the buckle undone as the 'trick' wasn't part of the demo this morning! There is nothing worse than standing, desperately needing the loo, unable to remove your trousers because you're being held hostage by your belt!!! I eventually figured it out, 5 minutes later, after much huffing and puffing. 

I'm now midway through week 32 and I'm starting to feel massively bloated and more pregnant than ever. After speaking with a friend earlier this week, who is two weeks away from having her baby boy, while swapping tips about how best to kick start labour, it dawned on me that we're not that far away from parenthood ourselves. 

Little One is already such a huge part of our lives. Ryan and I have settled into a comfortable routine of connecting with him on a daily basis, which I love. The truth is, we became parents the day I found out I was pregnant and the instinct to protect our little boy just gets stronger and stronger for both of us.