It has been an eventful few days.
Some of my FB followers will know that my last few weeks of pregnancy were a little on the stressful side. Having been diagnosed with polyhydramnios at 32 weeks, a condition in which too much amniotic fluid has been produced, my baby then turned sideways. My consultant was extremely concerned that should my waters break early, which is very common with this condition, the likelihood was that the cord would prolapse, denying my baby of vital oxygen, and making it a race against time to get her out safely.
On top of which no reason could be found for the increase in fluid. My tests were all normal. Baby’s scans appeared normal but until she was born we could not be sure all was ok.
And so I found myself in hospital. Scared.
And then more and more scared.
My sons birth had ended up in a very traumatic emergency c-section which left me suffering from crippling anxiety attacks in the weeks and months following his birth. I would wake in the night, unable to explain the chronic pain in my abdomen, having no recollection whatsoever of having had surgery, or even of being pregnant, and begging my husband to call an ambulance in fear that I was dying and unable to understand why he was not immediately on the phone.
This happened frequently.
I was unable to talk about his birth without breaking down. I still cannot put into words all of the events that occurred that week. I was in physical pain and emotional distress for a long time. Much of this I buried as best as I could but as the birth of baby number two got closer the thought of another emergency situation was simply unbearable.
After a few days on the ward my baby finally decided to play ball and turned head down. Once confident that she was likely to stay there they let me go home.
My plan had always been to avoid surgery and with only a week or so to go it became a waiting game.
And we waited.
At 5 days overdue the consultant felt it was time to make a decision. With the increased fluid putting pressure on my previous surgical scar he felt it was time for baby to come out and if she wouldn’t do it herself, they would do it for her.
Surgery was booked for the Friday, three days time, at 8am.
I was heartbroken.
And did I mention scared?
However, Thursday morning at exactly 10am my contractions started. By 12:00 I was in the hospital in active labour and screaming for an epidural.
At 16:47 my beautiful baby girl was born weighing 6’7″.
She appears to be fit and well.
I am beyond happiness. So far beyond happiness in fact there are simply no words to describe it.
I was able to hold my baby the minute she was delivered. I was able to feed her within hours of her birth. I was able to cuddle her, dress her and was up and about and able to give her her very first bath within 24 hours. I was able to do everything I had longed to do with W as a newborn but was unable to.
I haven’t slept for more than an hour at a time since she arrived and I cannot bear to put her down a lot of the time.
My heart melts watching my beautiful boy smile at her, talk to her, tickle her feet and accept her as his baby sister with ease.
I cannot believe how lucky I am to have two such beautiful children and a husband I adore.
I am also truly lucky to have received an unbelievable amount of support from my fellow blogging compadres, you know who you are ladies, who have given me invaluable advice, shared their own experiences with me, and been there for me online, sometimes at 3am, during those terrifying final few weeks and days. They have wiped away my virtual tears and been a truly epic source of kindness and strength.
They even provided me with a care package on my return home with food, fizz and even a game for W so he would not feel left out. Ladies I salute you and am forever in your debt.
So tonight I leave you from here, beyond happiness…
and long may we remain here.