The Main Event

Now, before I tell this story I want to say a few things that you should totally TOTALLY take on board:

1. If you know me at all by now, you know that I have a flair for the dramatic, and as a result, it is only natural that Matthew’s birth was a tad… exciting.

2. If you are prego and like I was, COMPLETELY obsessed with birth stories, and all the vile things that happen to you while your bundle of joy is wiggling his or her way into the world, read on (please do!), but bear in mind that it is my story, not yours. What I’m trying to say is DON’T FREAK OUT – you’re going to be fine. I am alive and my kid (so cute it makes me want to die) is snoozing happily beside me.

3. I have taken so long to write this post because I have mixed feelings about sharing Matthew’s birth story. I didn’t have a sunshine and angelcakes birth and I don’t want to scare people off. But, on the other hand, I started this blog to tell the truth about my experience of pregnancy, birth and parenting, so I am going to tell our story, with an emphasis on the things I totally didn’t expect to happen, and did. So, deep breath peeps… here we go:

Right, as you all know I was v overdue and cranky and crampy and just dying to meet the little fella the last time I properly posted. The Friday after the due date I went into the hospital for a meeting with the consultant. They gave me a vicious cervical sweep that made me almost faint with the pain and gush blood (GUSH). All that day I was feeling really off and then that afternoon I got loads of bloody show, which is basically lumps of blood and snot like stuff *it’s totally DISGUSTING*. I started getting contractions at about six and we went into the hospital the following night at about twelve (after the great fake labour of 2011 I wanted to stay at home as long as possible to make sure that I was actually in labour). Off with the knickers and a full examination. The midwife said I was having full blown contractions but was only 1cm dilated (I had been two the week before – weird). Anyway, they decided to admit me because they thought that the birth was going to happen fairly quickly.

Then. I had two days of solid contractions – AGONY – but no movement. They kept me pumped with drugs, thinking it would just happen all of a sudden. On Sunday night they decided that they were going to induce me on the Monday, and then they decided they weren’t because SLOWLY SLOWLY my cervix started to dilate. On Monday morning at about ten the pain was so excruciating I was begging for an epidural but they couldn’t give it to me until I reached four centimeters (*I had been three for a day and a bit at that stage). I hadn’t slept a wink since Thursday night so I was fairly delirious alright.

Eventually at about two they moved me up to the delivery suite where all the GORGEOUS midwives live. (I can’t shout enough about how fabulous these people are, but anyway, on with the story.) What followed was thirteen hours of labour, four epidurals, an allergic reaction to some drugs they gave me, being booked in for an emergency c section, hearing the anasthesiologist (can’t spell) talking about how manky the bottoms of my feet were to the nurse as he tapped a needle into my spine and all sorts of vileness.

THEN
Matthew decided to arrive in FIVE MINUTES of pushing. This usually takes two hours. He is so talented – and so is my fanny I might add. It is in ribbons – got a bit of an aul tear – but I don’t care. I also have no dignity. Everyone in the world has seen my fanny. And. AND. After you have a baby they stick their finger up your arse to make sure there’s no tears. SERIOUSLY. That’s one we didn’t know about.

The Fella was amazing. He may have eaten a Kinder Bueno in the delivery room, but I only hit him once and he was very very very excellent at calming me down. Also, there was a student doctor called Cormac there for most of the time, and although he was like, 12, and was looking at my fanny, he was very amusing and kept me occupied with comments like “you’ll never feel pain like this again Ciara, it’s ooookaaaay”. RIGHT.

I know it all sounds very dramatic and quite scary really, but the feeling when the baby is born is so SO SOOOOOOO incredible it actually is all worth it. It is total crap what they say about you forgetting the birth; you just don’t care because your baby is so gorgeous.

So, I hope I haven’t scared you, and apologies for the incoherent post – my little fella has addled my brain and I haven’t got my wit on – give me a week or so! I plan to continue the blog because every day with Matthew is throwing up new questions and experiences that I want to tell you about – not in a disgusting mushy ma way mind – wait until you hear about my hysterical crying of the last week or so….