Thursday, 20 September 2012

And just like that, our baby is one.

I realised today that I was yet to share with the blog world the celebration that was Little Oliver J's first birthday. I also realised that I hadn't shared my labour story. So I am going to start with that.

On August the 28th 2011 I started my contractions, although they we're very weak. I started timing them and they were 5 minutes apart. By the time it got to 10pm James and I decided to go to the hospital to get me some pain killers. I knew I wasn't in full labour but I also knew that I would be soon and I needed to get as much sleep in as possible.

The people at Frankston hospital were quite rude when I arrived, they didn't believe I had even started labour. I told them I wouldn't be staying, and they confirmed this. They didn't think I'd be coming back soon either. After a bit of monitoring they did confirm that I was in active labour, but the very early stages. They gave me some pain killers and some sleeping pills and I went home.

When I woke up in the morning I felt much the same. Throughout the day the contractions got worse and worse. I had planned a natural labour I wanted no drugs. I also wanted to stay at home for as long as possible. By 10pm I had had enough. I wanted to go to hospital and I wanted some happy gas.

When we got to the hospital they exclaimed "that's better!" and put me in the wheelchair. I felt so much relief when floating through th air in the wheelchair, I didn't want t get out.

I made James and my Mother promise to not let me have an epidural. How naive I was. They did keep this promise against my many requests.

So I hated the gas. I just swore a lot and then I wanted to vomit. I spent most of the labour in the shower. I went into a bit of a trance and sort of hum-sung a lot. My midwife cried it was "so beautiful". It helped me manage the breathing. It was an unconscious thing.

Then I wanted to push. My waters hadn't broken yet so I started pushing and gush they went.

I pushed for what seemed like forever. It was an hour and a half. Then my midwife told me they would need to get the OB and help to get Oliver out. They used the vacuum. I was so exhausted I almost gave up and then the female OB (it was shift change so I had two of everyone) took my hand and put it on Oliver's head. It was the first time I touch my beautiful son. It refreshed me and I kept pushing. I don't know how long it took but before I knew it he was there.

He was born at 6AM on Tuesday the 30th August 2011.

He needed a bit of help to get his breath started as his umbilical cord was around his neck. It was the most terrifying 10 seconds of my life but then they gave him too me, our Oliver.

My mid wife then looked up to me and told me I had had a bit of a bleed. Then she told me I had had a lot of a bleed. Then I heard a pop and I saw James' face go white and tears fill his eyes. But Oliver was okay, that all I could think about.

Lights flashed and doctors ran in. They took Oliver off me and I had to sign a consent slip. As I said it was shift change so doctors were everywhere. They had to take me down to theatre. James' begged to come with me but I told him to stay with out baby. The look on his face was heart breaking. I will never forget it. I actually thought I was going to die, not because I felt that I would but because of that look. But I was so calm. I was so relieved. I was a mother and my baby was okay.

Down in theatre I begged for an epidural (ironic hey?) instead of going under so I could get back to my son. I told them all about my baby boy, and they all knew that he didn't have red hair. They didn't want to do an epidural as a local is "much easier" but I promised I would sleep through it. And I did.

I was stitched up and fine in no time. But that wait in recovery ward felt like forever. I just wanted to spend time with my baby. The reason I opted for a natural labour was that I wanted to care for my son as soon as possible. Now I couldn't even hold him.

Soon the welcomed news that I could go back to the labour ward arrived. I was so happy. As they wheeled me upstairs I was anxious with anticipation. I just wanted my Oliver.

When they wheeled me into the room I was welcomed with the most beautiful site. My husband holding our son, and the smile on his face was priceless. We were together at last. And my haemorrhage no longer mattered (although the recovery was tough) as Oliver was healthy, and we were together. And we got a private room!

And thats the story of how Oliver J came into out world one year ago. It has been the best twelve months of my life, the most challenging but without a doubt the most rewarding.

I must also say, I know Frankston Hospital gets bad press but they were so fantastic. I could not have dreamt of better care for myself or my child. And my midwife was a dream in herself.

Oliver is cheeky, fun, funny, quirky, smart, big, an animal lover, friendly, shy, a quick learner, observant, and ours.

I can not believe he is already one. At the same time I can't believe he has only been in our lives for twelve months. I try to teach him something new every day, but the truth is he is the one who is educating me.

He has taught me patience, trust, how to truly smile, how to truly laugh, how to enjoy the little things and how to treasure every moment. He has taught me how to trust myself, and love myself by the way I can see that he loves and trusts me. He has taught me how to care for myself and my body, the way I care for him and his. He has taught me to live on broken sleep and to run on minimal energy reserves. But most importantly he has taught me to love unconditionally, and notice all the small things.

I love the way he reaches for me when he is scared, or holds a little tighter. I love the way he kisses our lips with his mouth open. I love the way he feeds our dog when he is finished his food. I love the way he copies everything we do. I love the way he jumps on me as soon as I lay on the ground. I love the way he claps when he finishes stacking. I love the way he runs to me when I walk in the door. I love the way he points, and talks and laughs and even cries. I love everything about him and there is not a thing I would change, not a hair on his little head as they say.

I believe in my abilities as a Mother and I know James is a great father. I consider Oliver a lucky boy to have such dedicated parents, but mostly I consider us such lucky parents to have Oliver as our own.

Happy first birthday Oliver. Thank you for all that you are, and who you are is perfect.

Please enjoy these photos of the celebrations of Little Oliver J's first birthday party.

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