You entered this world as sweetly and as quietly as your current demeanour. You didn’t make a peep when you rose safely in the hands of the doctor. You looked around, and it was only when you were checked by the paed and prodded with an injection that I heard your newborn cry, making me feel relieved and a little anguished at once.
I am grateful for a birth that was uncomplicated and one that was full of laughter and happiness, and a beautiful you in our arms afterwards.
The morning of the 15th, your dad and I woke up at about 4am to leave for the hospital at around 4.45am. We watched some Paralympics while getting ready, and while straightening my hair, as one does before giving birth, I got emotional watching the courage of disabled swimmers. This was my first set of tears for the day (or hour), to be followed by so many more.
We arrived at the hospital happily and relaxed, and to diffuse my nerves and worry, I started making jokes and finding humour where I could. This continued beyond the delivery room, and we were fortunate to have such an amazing team of doctors, nurses and hospital staff along the way to add light, laughs and love.
There were hospital checks and questionnaires, and Natalie the birth photographer and then Grandpa David arrived. We prepped, I got into the hospital “gown” (technically it’s a piece of loose-fitting fabric, which doesn’t really close at the back. Mine didn’t even cover my back, so I had to use a second one to cover my butt as I walked back to my bed.
The tears began flowing when I was wheeled to theatre. It’s an unusual mix of anxiety, excitement, nerves, not knowing, hoping, wishing and also knowing the joy and miracle to expect if all goes well.
Your first clothes and nappy, ready for you…
Heading to theatre:
We were privileged to have the most amazing doctors in our court, and a theatre sister who felt like my guardian angel, along with your dad. The drip and spinal block didn’t hurt much, but the resulting nausea and light-headedness were hard to handle at times, and it took intervention from the anaethetist, and a lot of “pull yourself together” mantras from myself to focus and try to relax and “enjoy” the process.
Your dad, unsurprisingly, was the strength, support and help I would not have wanted to go without, and it’s continued beyond the birth, just as it began when I first met him.
As you took your first breath, I sobbed for the new life being “gifted” to me, and for the relief. And absolute happiness.
You are healthy, loved and content. Thank you for choosing us, for healing me, for adding so much to our lives already.
Professional birth photos by Creationography
Liked this post? Follow this blog to get more.