Category Archives: Family

Spermy, Spermy, Sperms!

more sperm

 

This is quite possibly the most exciting personal post I have written in a while. The posts about my life and memoirs seem to be getting rarer, but this blog was created originally as a memoir, so I refuse to let go of that side completely, no matter how much it’s evolved, so sorry to all the folk out there who signed up to read all about writing, this ones a memoir.

A long time ago, I was told I probably wouldn’t be able to have children. It’s a long story, but it ended up in me falling pregnant rather quickly and a hasty retreat by the fertility clinic.

Thankfully we managed to get pregnant, and nine extremely long months later, and 3.5 days of excruciating labour, baby Black was born. The best year of my life followed, and a difficult decision about sperm.

The wife and I thus far haven’t really wanted another child. Not for any other reason than, we need to pay off the cost of the first baby, and buy a house to make sure we can provide for him first before having another one.

We have spent a long time discussing whether having another one would suit us, and our family. We bickered a lot to start with, but I guess that’s normal for most couples. As time has gone on we have continued to learn lots of parenting lessons and are continually growing together on our journey.

Deciding whether to save sperm for another child has been a topic of much contention. It’s difficult trying to predict what we might or might not want to do in a few years time.

Of course, even if we didn’t save sperm we could have another child using another donor, but if the option is there to use the same donor, we are both in agreement that we would prefer to use them.

So we came to a cross road… To save or not to save? It’s an extremely costly affair saving sperm. To save enough for three attempts it’s a whopping £1000 for three years, and another £300 every three years to continue to have it stored.

BUT, we decided to save some, just in case. I am not saying we will have any more kids, as at the minute neither of us can see it happening, however, we are trying to protect our options, ensure that we aren’t taking our choices away and making a decision about how we will feel in 5 or 6 years time.

So there we have it… Very exciting news, the Black’s have a bank… a bank of sperm! (can’t help but giggle like a child about this!) But SHHHHH! It’s a secret!

 

Daylight Savings Time + Toddlers

Ahhhh, the dreaded clock change that happens twice yearly…. that sacred extra hour you usually get in bed…pre parenthood.

WORST WEEK OF MY LIFE PEOPLE!!!

Babies apparently don’t appreciate this annual gift we are given of extra sleep, in fact, not only do they reject the gift, they completely ignore it, choosing instead to get up at the usual time (now an hour early) the joyous hour of 5am. Fuck the worm, I have never been a morning person. I choose to be a late bird, why oh why did my son not inherit this precious piece of me?!

This was genuinely me trying to get out of bed at 5am to get the boy this morning.

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The thing is, he is doesn’t just affect the morning its also affecting the evening. Instead of going to be at 7, like normal we get to half past 6, and he goes all

angry

Its horrendous. We have tried everything from distraction, to TV, to extra milk, and out and out bribery! nothing is working. So tomorrow we have asked friends to come round to try and distract him between half six and 7, in the vague hope ‘new faces’ might be exciting! sigh. My caffeine intake this week is actually offensive!

Anyone else suffering with Daylight Savings Time?

Forget terrible twos, why didn't anyone tell me about the terrible ten months?

As I promised, this would be a blog of two halves, partly about my life as a mum, writer, and worker bee, and partly about writing, and my quest to get published.

So, this is a motherhood post.

Everybody knows about the terrible twos, how truly awful they are with screaming tantrums and public paddies.

giphy child

Hideously embarrassing and the phase I suspect most parents dread in young children. BUT SERIOUSLY…. why did no one tell me about the horrific change that happens at ten months? My son is now ten and a half approaching eleven months, and it was like an alien literally took over his body and possessed his previously calm temperament.

Nappy changing is simply an impossibility without an army of spare hands, arms and legs to pin your gremlin of a child in place while you change them. Ok, so distraction occasionally works too, but not as well as it used to! He now likes to pitch an absolute bitch of a screaming fit, when I get him dressed, try and do his teeth, or anything that even remotely changes his current situation.

In spite of the fact I’ve read a million mum blogs, help sites read books and compared notes with a hundred friends, it kind of doesn’t matter what they say or suggest because baby black, is just going to make life difficult his own way! When I find a solution I’ll report back!

 

Why being a lesbian mum is exactly the same and completely different

There are some fundamental things about motherhood that just don’t change. You will change umpteen nappies, and as a result you will get baby poop and other bodily liquids over most of your limbs at one point or another. Generally speaking however you obtain a child (no, not theft, I’m talking adoption, fertility treatment or in a plethora of other ways) it’s come from the same place – a womb. There will be a time – if you have a newborn or very young baby – where you don’t sleep, you will feel like the walking dead and you won’t know who you are; one day you will find you self sat on the sofa in yesterday’s underwear, bloodshot eyes with bags the size of houses, unbrushed teeth that still look clean because you can’t remember the last time you ate, smeared with poop, a few bubbles of sick down one arm, and some crusty snot thrown in for good measure. That happens. To everyone who’s a parent believe me. There’s other things, like the fact that once your a parent there really is no going back – particularly for those that have carried and birthed a child, once you have that baby your life will never be the same again. It takes time to go back to feeling like yourself, but that self is very much a different self. Whoever you were before you had a child is gone, held captive by your long forgotten and never to return youth. Whoever you were is most definitely not returning. But that’s ok. This new you is a better you anyway!

Thats the stuff that’s the same. Seems like everything, right? Wrong. The differences are invariably cultural. Its always cultural. It’s those little things that make our lives that bit harder. The worst bit, is it starts before your child’s even born.

Take your antenatal classes – a class full of straight couples. Where does the non birth mother sit? For the sake of this and any ongoing blogs I post (and my word count!) the non birth mother will be referred to as ‘mama’ and birth mother (mum). Where should the mama sit? It’s not really with the mums – they are all discussing the trials and tribulations of pregnancy and their fears of labour. But it’s also not really with the dads who are more concerned with discussing where the closest dominoes pizza place is to the hospital.

Throughout pregnancy I felt sorry for my wife – she would tell people she’s having a child and within about three seconds a haze of confusion would melt over their face as their eyes would unsubtly drop to her stomach and back to her face a few times. It’s still not ‘normal’ enough for people to just accept that two women can have a baby.

Even after pregnancy and labour it continues – but the problem is – the differences are between your friends and you. I am sure that to a certain extent straight couples who have kids young experience similar things. The friends who begin to slip away because they ‘just don’t get it’. They are incapable of compromising or being understanding to the fact that organising a night out is the equivalent to party planning for the royals. It takes serious time and effort, you can’t just go out at the drop of a hat. And, lets be honest, most of the time you don’t want too either, not because you’re a bore, but because if you do go out – the consequences will reach further than just a saturday morning hangover. You’re going to be tired long into thursday – especially when your child decides to start teething again – at that very moment you went out and let your hair down – commence a week or two of exhaustion. That bit – is probably the same.

But for the LGBT circle, the current generation of young’uns (17-35) we seem to be taking life in the slow lane. The majority of people who are having children in this gayby boom are 35 plus in the LGBT world – obviously I’m not saying everyone, there are also pockets of exceptions – but in my world – most if not all the LGBT parents I have met are 35 plus – in fact thats kind of mimicked with the hetero-parents I’ve met too. The difference this makes is – most of my friends are still in the culture of being concerned with where the next night out is coming from and who’s round is next. most still live at home with mum and dad, and few have careers sorted or any kind of concept of where they want to be when they grow up. Indeed any kind of mention of commitment and you got yourself a full on epi pen needing allergic reaction. Why is our generation of young LGBT so frightened of commitment? few if any of my friends have had relationships longer than a couple of years. It makes me feel like a freakshow – not only am I LGBT and therefore in a minority group as it is – but I’m a minority within a minority – a young LGBT person with a child, who actually had the child in a lesbian relationship and whats more, gave birth.

Other major differences include the ‘questioning’ when you come across a straight couple with a newborn – usual questions include: Oh how adorable – how much did they weigh? How was the birth? Do they sleep?

Now – we tend to get one or two of those normal questions and then you get hit with the- ‘I’m going to look really awkward and shift from foot to foot because I know what I’m about to ask is rude, but I’m going to do it anyway!’ – face and then the barrage of “oh so, er, how did you do it then?” most of the time I feel like responding with an equally stupid answer “do what? get my hair styled this way?, do what look this good on no sleep?” etc etc. Other stupid questions include “do you know the donor?” “are you both called mum”

Seriously, next time a straight couple asks me how I ‘did it’ I’m going to ask them how they got pregnant too, see how they like them apples!

I’m ranting – but I have a point, we face regular interrogations from joe public, and even from our parents. My own dad commented that he wasn’t really sure how it would ‘be’ raising a male child with two mums. “Where’s the balance” I remember him saying. He ate his own words though when he visited because he then said “I don’t think I’ve met a happier child.”

There are probably a million other differences I could name, but my rant just ran out of steam! For any of you LGBT mummies out there – anyone else able to add irritations to the list?

On Being Sacha Black

It’s been ten months since I posted properly. The birth of my son understandably turned my life into chaos. But after some thought, and preparation I’ve decided a new look to Sacha Black’s blog and a slight re think in content should bring me back onto the straight and narrow blogging scene again.

This blog has had so many incarnations – rants about work, struggles with art and writing, and my battle with fertility, but always my memoirs.

But now, I am a mum, a worker bee, a wife, a writer, and hopefully a blogger again. This blog will be twofold, my memoirs on being a mum, and my memoirs on writing.

I hope you will follow me on this journey.

Writing

800px-Stipula_fountain_pen

I am attempting to take more time for me now that I am beginning to get some semblance of routine back into my life. With work just round the corner an the end of my maternity approaching, I am trying to think more about myself and where I want to go. I don’t want baby black to grow up with a miserable mother – just because I carried on doing a ‘job’ that pays the bills. I want to be a role model for him, to show him if you want something bad enough you can do it, you just have to work hard. So, now I have a fixed laptop, it is time to crack on with my writing course. Incase anyone else fancies themselves a writing course you can find it here.

So my first assignment, and piece of writing I had to do was a piece of descriptive writing. I thought I would share it with you. It was an observational piece, and we had to choose somewhere of interest and describe it. Feel free to comment if you like:

In the distance an aeroplane rumbled, and I strained to find the contrail jutting out of its rear. Unable to see it, I meandered down the twisted wisteria walkway instead. This was the aisle I was meant to walk down on my wedding day. Sighing, I stroked one of the baby branches arching over the walkway and was surprised to find it furry and covered in moss; my fingers tingled at its touch. Its elder looked down watching it grow, bark as wrinkly as a grandmothers.

The gravel crunched under my feet, as I continued down the path. I halted as I glimpsed a hint of the pillar-box red oriental bridge in the distance. Veering off the walkway I headed towards the bridge to stand at the edge of the lake, I heard the quacking of a pair of ducks paddling in the pond, and the roar of a waterfall pounded the jagged rocks surrounding it. Staring at the pool beneath the waterfall, I wondered whether mermaids lived in the murky midnight blue depths.

I stepped around the end of the walkway into a huge open space covered in a blanket of green grass. It felt like I was entering a magical world. A towering pagoda stood peacefully amongst the trees and boulders around it. If you listened hard enough you could almost hear the clip clop of geisha shoes, and the flapping of kimono fabric in the wind. Poised at my feet, stood a single flower flecked with pink ready to battle the first frosts of spring like a samurai preparing for war. 

I inhaled deeply, and the sharp air cut my throat as it whipped my fringe into my glasses. I pulled my jacket tighter to protect myself from the chilly air and walked through the dewy grass towards the aged mansion at the top of the gardens. I placed my hands on the filigree garden gate, and shivered as the icy metal bit my fingers. A delicate spiders web quivered in the breeze lonely without its eight-legged owner. The stately gardens behind the gate were pruned to perfection, with chess shaped bushes and neat lines surrounding the majestic fountain centerpiece.  

Springs first sunshine kissed the mansions sandy colored bricks. Terracotta turrets bulged out of the roof, and evergreen coloured ivy crept boldly up the walls.  I walked away imagining wartime evacuees waving behind the mansions enormous square windows and running through the great rooms inside.

 

 

 

A Letter To My 18 Year Old Son

SONY DSC

Like the TV advert, the wife and I decided to set up an email account for our newborn  son to open on his 18th birthday. We will spend the next 18 years sending letters, photos and videos to him in secret, so that his life with us is chronicled. I thought you may like to read my first entry.

My Dearest A,

You are currently my little sleeping beauty upstairs in your crib. I am hoping you are reading this on or around your 18th birthday, as we have now given you the password and account details for this account.

I want you to know, wherever you are, wherever we are, I am immensely proud of whoever you have become. I love you with all my heart, you are my world.
‘The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.’ Jane Austen.
 
You’re 11 and a half weeks old, just shy of 3 months old. I look at you now and wonder how you came to be. It feels like you have been here my entire life, and yet, for just a moment, and already I love you with such immensity that it takes over my entire being.
I am still at home on maternity leave with you at the moment and will be for a few more weeks. I savour every moment of time I spend with you, because I will be at work soon and then every moment I spend away from you will be a moment wasted. 🙁
The best parts of my day are when you smile at me, or when I get to watch you learn something new. Your making lots of noises these days, and beginning to form a real laugh, and I can’t help but giggle every time you do; your learning to sit – although you scream in protest every time we practice, you much prefer standing up. You love your door bouncer and finally your starting to learn to roll over.
I am talking to my 18 year old son… I will be 44 by the time your 18. Oh my god, that seems like a life time away, I can’t imagine what I will be like at 44, or who I will be, let alone who you will be.
What do I hope for you? Firstly and most importantly I hope you are happy. I hope you have had a wealth of experiences, good, bad, naughty and ugly! I hope you are safe and well. I hope you have studied hard, and played harder, I hope you have loved and lost and loved again and I hope you have travelled.
Every parent wants their child to be a doctor, lawyer, pilot or some other well paid career. But I just hope that you have found something that will make you happy for the duration of your career, I don’t care if your a ballerina, a seamstress, a chef or a boxer. As long as you work hard you will be the best you can be, but enjoy whatever you choose to do in life, because life is too short to be unhappy…. but secretly I do hope you have chosen to go to university! I met your mumma at university and I am sure I speak for her too when I tell you how much fun we had at university, even during the all nighters trying to finish assignments.
I hope you enjoy the next 18 years of emails! It might take a day or two to get through!
Happy Birthday baby boy, I love you always and forever, mummy. xxx

The Abomination That is Disney!

disney-princess-kida-disney-princess-30168400-2560-1117

The wife has always had a penchant for Disney. I on the other hand barely watched them as a child, preferring to have my head stuck firmly in the pages of dusty old books. Disney came up in conversation again recently – having pushed a small human out – and the fact she wanted to have a large collection of disney films ready for the boy to watch. Sky had a few on demand over Christmas, so we sat down and stuck The Little Mermaid (TLM) on.

I sat, aghast for the entire film. How has disney been able to produce films that are quite simply an abomination. People – and by people I refer to the murky world of ‘parents’ – seem to rave about disney and how good their films are…. Good?

Good – sure, if you count a hideously antifeminist, despicably amoral story that has nothing even remotely like the ethics or values I want my son to grow up with.

I hate to be a mermaid basher so I will start with a positive. Race equality – TLM is a great story about how love is equal across any race, Mermaid loves a human, different races, love conquers all blah, blah, blah, Great – this is a moral I can not only live with, but as a lesbian, actively promote and encourage. I want my child to know they can love whoever they want, no matter their race, creed, gender or otherwise.

The Film:

Issue 1: Ariel falls in love with the prince. – So wrong. She spontaneously falls in love with someone she has never spoken to and mostly just perved on, in a fairly stalkerish way from afar.

Would you encourage your kid to do this? I doubt it. I can already see the injunctions and restraining orders being slapped all over him, because a stupid film told him real love happens by stalking someone for two days. Ok, I am being facetious but you see my point. I would also like to point out I am not suggesting that I don’t believe in love at first sight. More that you need to have a reality check in real life, even if you do fall for someone instantly.
Issue 2: Ariel wants to change herself to be with him.

I hate to go all feminist ranty on you. Actually, I don’t hate it, I love a good feminist rant. In fact, any sort of rant. I digress – BUT don’t we have enough antifeminist-bullshit pressure to conform to the ultra skinny, rib protruding, size of a seven year old, bulimic-anorexic, vomit inducing ‘celebrity look’ society the media loves, without having it force-fed subconsciously to our infants. UGH. No woman…. Actually no man either, should ever have to change themselves to be with someone. Is it just me? Or do we spend hours of our lives giving advice to our perpetually confused friends on their relationships, and why it’s not ok for them to allow their partner to nag them into suppression?

Issue 3: The prince starts to fall for Ariel but then deserts her instantly for a disguised Ursula over something so shallow as her voice! He decides to marry Ursula immediately having spent all of no time getting to know her…

Where do I even start with this. It is not ok to teach my child that they can desert a woman (or man) based solely on a characteristic. Thats akin to suggesting it’s ok to leave their partner if they get fat, or a scar, or a disability. I mean SERIOUSLY. And then to marry the other woman because of that same characteristic, after what 2.5 milliseconds of time spent with said woman… sure thats an outstanding idea. I am positive all parents would approve of their kids doing this.

Issue 4: Instead of Ariel taking her pride and moving on she pandas to the prince and chases after him. 

This makes me want to claw my face off in frustration and resort to excessive amounts of alcohol. How low must her self confidence be to chase after a guy who only likes her because of her voice and will desert her as quickly as he met her for another woman simply because she lost that characteristic.

Issue 5: After all that the prince goes back to Ariel dumping Ursula and THEN kills Ursula just for good measure.

Now I just feel awkward. No one wants to date a psychopath, and lets be honest, the prince is looking more and more like a psychopath; with emotions unnecessarily fickle, and an assumption that it’s ok to off your ex…

Despite the fact I am resolute in knowing TLM is morally wrong, it’s not like theres anything better on the market. I think I may have to go investigate the other films!

The Mother of all Statuses

Admittedly I dropped off the face of the planet, but in my defence I did push a rather large baby out my whatsit  9 weeks ago!

I met a mummy friend today, and she told me she was starting a blog, so I figured I had no excuse as a veteran blogger! So I am officially jumping back on the wagon. It was a fight to dream land with baby black but now he’s down here I am catching up!

I figure the quickest way to update you on the last 9 weeks is through short sharp Facebook statuses – Here is my last 9 weeks in brief:

 

4/2/14 Had the boy weighed today… 14lb… He’s a stone… A STONE!! Wtf!!

I just want to state for the record 5am is NOT play time 

1/2/14 And that is why I deserve a pair of Louboutins!…. And the fact I pushed a baby out my…!

cinder

 

30/1/14 Someone seriously needs to invent breast pads that actually work  this is not a good look

leaky

29/1/14 8 hours later, several nappies, play gym, bumbo, vibrating rocking chair, several feeds, me covered head to foot in leaked milk, sticky arms, no bath, no pee, inhaled food, practiced sitting, standing and grabbing and finally I managed to tire him out enough for one…. Just one nap…. I am shattered, PLEASE for the love of my sanity stay asleep.

And he’s awake again. Some one actually shoot me.

28/1/14   8 week health check and vaccines… FML

25/1/14  Dear pampers/huggies can you please invent a dry baby wipe that still cleans but isnt cold and wet like the normal wipes, because they ALWAYS wake the baby up in the middle of the night when u need to change them. Thanks

23/1/14  Won’t nap during the day when u want them too… But by god will they fall into an unwakeable coma the minute u want them to be awake!… In other news I’m pretty sure there’s sick on me somewhere the smell of stale cheese is following me and I can’t find where it is!! #fml

21/1/14  So tired today 🙁

20/1/14  5000 changes later a gallon of poo, dozens of nappies, half a roll of kitchen towel, several litres of sick, a rather large bogey, two giant pee pees, half a pack of baby wipes, and finally a bath, Atlas is clean, dressed, fed and passing out –

I on the other hand am rather sweaty, covered in several layers of poo, sick and wee, my child’s bogey and oddly macaroni cheese! When is my wife coming home…. — feeling fresh

16/1/14  Apparently these are the same age – UGH no wonder I can’t find anything to fit him 🙁

baby grow

 

15/1/14  Looking fabulous covered in projectile vomit as I walk into tescos…. Note to self – keep a change of clothes for mummy not just baby in the car!

9/1/14 Hate to have a bitch and moan but how in the hell is this model representative of post birth women? – amazon are idiots

skinny bitch

 

“severe” tummy muscle separation and an average healing time of 5-6months – which means no proper exercise for 5/6months – definitely shedding a tear today — feeling gutted.

Ok that would be the 4th change of clothes… #sigh

Definitely initiated into parenthood this morning – pee and sick on the bed followed by projectile sick on to the floor and three changes of clothes all before I’m dresses and out of my room BUT it’s all ok… You know why…. We have laughter as well as smiles this morning – and that made it all ok again!!

8/1/14 And we have a smiling baby black and it’s not just wind!!

28/12/13 Where has 4 weeks gone? Can’t believe we have been parents for 4 whole weeks already!

25/1/13 CHRISTMAS DAY

Thank you everyone for the love and messages  I just got home safe and sound but under strict rest orders and have some heavy duty antibiotics but on the mend 

Would really like to go home now — feeling sad.

So for Christmas Santa bought me a stay in hospital, IV antibiotics and some serious abdomen pain  merry fudging Christmas everyone! — feelingill.

23/12/13 Officially running on empty — feeling drained.

22/12/13 I now have full appreciation for the need for ‘family cars’ trying to breast feed and nappy change in my car is a full blown FML situation!!

…That priceless moment when ur little bub holds on during a cuddle and u just know u were born to be a mummy/mama/daddy or dada…. 

21/12/13 Best day ever when u can put pre pregnancy trousers on and they aren’t uncomfortable…!  still a long way to go though!!

20/12/13 Find “milk drunk” babies hilarious

15/12/13 Calling all breastfeeding mothers – upon leaving the house post feed – make sure your top is pulled up and ur bra covered particularly when entering supermarkets!

12/12/13 Forget being ambidextrous…. Having babies give you toe and feet dexterity!! I’ll be painting the Mona Lisa with my left toes in no time!!

10/12/13 Advent calendars…. The reason why mummies with Christmas babies know the date!!

8/12/13 you know your wife has OCD when she has to go out to matalan to buy cream mittens because you have put white on next to a cream baby gro!!! — feeling amused

6/12/13 Day 1 at home 9:15am everyone’s bathed and dressed and he’s been fed…. Hmm I’m thinking this is the calm before the storm!! :s

Baby Black has been born!

** WARNING ** Graphic explanation of my labour and following experiences.

Understandably I have been a bit slack at blogging because…. Baby Black was born on 30th November 2013.

My labour… WHAT can I say….It was pretty traumatic due to the length of the labour but in the end everything was fine.

I laboured from Thursday morning 28th (my due date!!) right through to Saturday night when he was born so a very long time!!

So, I started some sporadic contractions on the 27th, but officially starting continuous contractions in the early hours of the morning on the 28th. I went to hospital at midnight on the 29th (night of the 28th but morning of the 29th), and despite having what the midwife said were strong contractions 2minutes apart I was actually only  1cm dilated. Considering I had been contracting ALL fricking day I was devastated!

So I was sent home with paracetamol and codeine. I continued to contract through the night every 4 minutes, by 3:30pm on the 29th I was so exhausted and in so much pain that I couldn’t take it any more, so we went back to hospital despite the contractions only being 7-8 minutes apart.  When I got to hospital I was STILL only 2 cm dilated, so they gave me a sweep and suggested that I should have a single shot of morphine so that I could at least sleep through for a few hours. So I took it as I had been awake for 36 hours and had had contractions the previous night (27th) so had barely slept that night either. I sort of slept – if you count waking up every 4 minutes to record a contraction!!

At some point in the middle of the night on the 29th (morning of the 30th) they discovered I was 4cm dilated and officially in active labour, however I was in a LOT of pain, which is when they discovered that he was back to back…. explaining why it was taking so long for me to dilate as at this point id been contracting for two straight days with just that shot of morphine and some paracetamol!! (the other reason the labour took so long is that he was really big – but i will explain that later)

My waters broke at some point between 2 and 4am on the morning of the 30th I forget when exactly, but that is when the real pain began it was excruciating I mean really like nothing I’d ever felt. I threw up a full litre of liquid I was in so much pain, so I was given gas an air (a hilarious couple of hours that my wife can regale humorous stories about me demanding to buy the gas and air and waving the tube around and shaking my bump!) I managed to get in the pool (where I wanted my birth) for all of about 10 minutes.

They discovered my cervix was swollen and I had halted dilation at 4cm and wasn’t getting any further. I then asked for an epidural because after 48 hours and then being told he was back to back and not dilating any more I gave up (sad to say) but I literally didn’t have anything left and I was in agony. As it happened they would of given me one anyway because as soon as they put it in they also hooked me up to a  syntocinon drip because my waters had broken they couldn’t allow my dilation to stop. Due to the exhaustion however all my veins collapsed in my hands and they had to get an anaesthetist to canula me… think i ended up with 5 failed canulars in total!

My active labour stage was 20 hours…. so I continued to contract from when the epi was put in at 6 or 7am until 9pm that night when he was born. But I was a bit rubbish at pressing the epidural button so I still had a lot of movement in my legs, and knew when I was contracting.

Unfortunately at this point I began to spike a fever due to some unknown infection or other, so they started IV antibiotics but not in time for them all to get through to the baby, so we ended up having to stay in hospital for a week. Baby A also then got jaundice so was under a lamp for the best part of a day.

So the actual birth… I had stopped pressing the epidural button about an hour before I started to push because I wanted to still at least feel part of the need to push. Which I am happy to say I could – I was telling the midwife when I felt like I wanted to push and I was always right –

It took 55 minutes of pushing and thankfully despite a ridiculously long labour I did it, by myself, no assistance needed (except an epidural!) which I am sad that I had to use, but it was necessary anyway in the end.

The midwife said she was very impressed and couldn’t believe I was hiding such a whopper of a baby in there!!

He was born at 20:49 on the 30th November weighing 9lb1oz

My body is totally massacred though, I have some muscle separation but considering his size its not really a surprise!! So I have been referred to a physio in Jan, amazingly because I didn’t panic the Midwife was able to control my delivery and I only had a minor tear 4 stitches – 2 inside 2 out. But I had several grazes and part of my labia ripped/tore off and it wasn’t spotted until I examined myself several days later so it had healed unfortunately – so I feel a bit wounded over that. I am layered in stretch mark scars too. But the worst body torture which could of ended up with me in hospital was a retained placenta. I kept telling the midwives that something was wrong down below, and I was examined twice, but they couldn’t see anything wrong. Well a few days later I started to develop what can only be described as a tongue dangling out of my vagina – I was incredibly concerned that they had failed to stitch a piece of vaginal wall back in or something. The day after leaving hospital a midwife is meant to visit you  – It got to 4pm and I started to think that no one was coming, so I phoned the hospital and doctors surgery and they sent the on call midwife…

Now this was actually my community midwife much to my horror – She is incredibly attractive, and I remember saying to the wife how mortified I would be if she ever had to examine me!

Well anyway after a hilarious few minutes trying to find said tongue – which had disappeared she grabbed the end and asked me to cough and much to my horror I felt a long warm sensation – I thought I had urinated on her! – I hadn’t!! She pulled out half of baby A’s membrane one of the largest pieces she has seen- she told me that if I hadn’t been on antibiotics it would have rotted – and she’s not sure why it didn’t rot anyway as it was a week post birth, not only that she’s not sure why I didn’t haemorrhage or get septicaemia (something my aunt got when she had a retained placenta). Anyway – she got it out and I wasn’t infected thank god. But I am so glad I stuck to my guns and kept asking people to examine me.

Baby A has taken to breast feeding like a dream we are both smitten and he’s perfect – but then we would be biased!!

Theres a lot more I can update from our week in hospital and the first three weeks of his life but enough for now 🙂