Wednesday, 20 May 2009

When The Doctor Was Born


My firstborn. My heart. I remember waking with a sore back. I knew the sign. Matt had long gone to work. I had a plan to meet my sister for shopping. I knew I was in pre-labour, but who knew how long that would last? And as if birth was going to get between me and a cash register. No way Jose.

I drove off to meet my sister, all the while my back pain increasing, a sneaky contraction here and there. I sent Matt an SMS "It's a nice day for a baby" to which he didn't reply (I later learnt his battery was almost dead).

My sister and I shopped. Things were ramping up. I could feel that baby was coming. I went back to my sister's house to watch some waterbirth movies. I'd heard that watching these can bring things on a little quicker. After my movie time was over, I drove home. I don't really remember that drive, but I do remember pulling into our driveway and my father-in-law and a handyman telling me that they were doing some jobs around the house. Fabulous timing because all I wanted to do was crawl into a steamy hot bath and say vamoose to the sore back. I did. I threw caution to the wind. I got in that bath. Then got out. Dressed. Decided to go for a walk to get some things to make Labour Aid. Clearly I was delusional. I walked the two kilometres and all the while my contractions were coming on stronger, more rhythmically.

I stopped off at our local Blockbuster and as any reasonable labouring woman would do, I hired Sex and the City. I remember standing in the store experiencing a contraction. Breathing. Hmmm. Hoping no one would notice a heavily pregnant, heavily breathing woman.

When I checked out the DVDs the guy said a cheery 'see you on Sunday' - and I thought - no buster, you won't. I'm about to have a baby. Overdues - I'll see you sooner.

I don't know how I got home on that long walk, but I know I had to stop here and there to rest. Breathe. Breathe. Open.

I walked home. Made Labour Aid. Got lemon juice all over the floor. Bottled my Labour Aid. Rested. Another bath?

Matt finally come home and I remember my aching body being held in his arms. Ah relief!

We had a quiet dinner together (hey - things can get a little rowdy around here), and went off to bed. I slept until around 1am when things started really ramping. And I vomited (there's an ongoing theme of vomit here lately, isn't there?). I had all the lights off. I hate lights when I feel unwell. I am an animal in the dark. I sit in the bath again. I feel my contractions. I feel them grow ever stronger. I get out because the bath isn't hot enough. Matt's still sleeping. How ever do men sleep through such a mad racket?

Finally, around 2am Matt came out to find me labouring away, I think by this stage I was back in the bath. We decided to call my sister who was coming with us, driving us to the hospital and who would be with us throughout the birth.

I sat in the darkest room in our house. Matt kept turning lights on. I kept turning them off. Breathe. We were in touch with the midwife, and we knew we had a 40 minute drive ahead. The midwife tried to stave us off, but I knew we had to go. I was ready to go. We clambered into the car. My fashion sense clearly thrown out the window. Me in Matt's old paint splattered tracksuit pants, a very worn, almost transparent t-shirt of a Chinese woman smoking an opium pipe (?), Birkos and a quilted cotton Chinese jacket. Very continental. I'm sure the world has never seen such haphazard styling before.

My sister drove like the clappers. Down the highway, I felt every bump. Every single bump in my bump. In my heaving body. Breathe. Hold the seatbelt away. Drive behind a garbage truck. Thankfully it was 3:30am by this time. Traffic was clear. This baby had good timing. And then the Labour Aid exploded all over my foot. Excellent.

We arrived at the hospital and the guy at the front desk insisted we fill out the forms before going up to the Birth Centre. Then I, leaning over the reception desk let out an almighty moan and he realised I was in labour, so reluctantly let us go up. We went up and went into our room. Dark. Quiet. The midwife expected me to be 3cm dialated. Instead I was 8.

Briskly (as brisk as any labouring woman can) I tore off my clothes (I couldn't bear my fashion genius any longer - truth be, I can't stand being dressed when feeling ill either - must be dark, must be naked - how wrong does that sound when typed?) and got into that bath. Oh that bath. That gloriously deep, seductive and calming bath. Hot! Hot! Hot! I laboured away for the next couple of hours in that bath.
Matt had a sleep. MATT HAD A SLEEP! --- Apparently just another day in the office for him. Meanwhile...
My contractions became more and more fierce, I rode them out, but I was growing tired. I held Matt's and my sister's hands. And then my contractions. My contractions - they damn well stopped! I had to get out of the bath because apparently I was too relaxed. Damn it. There goes my water birth. All throughout the birth our wonderful ante-natal teacher had been calling us to see how things were doing. That woman is a guru.

I got comfy on that birthing ball and cushions, propped up.
And after two hours of puuuuuuushing, (and me going, I can't do it, I can't do it - and everyone else saying - you ARE doing it, you ARE doing it, and then me going - COME ON! Lleyton Hewitt stylie) that big-headed, cone-headed, Mohawk-ed baby finally, finally came out.
That there friends is how the Doctor arrived. 10:02am on the 20th May.

25 comments:

Amy Sheaves said...

Hello. I am new to your blog and intrigued as to why your son is called the doctor? We have a 'doctor' in our house - my 7 year old son who thinks he is David Tennant playing Dr Who!

Georgie Love said...

Oh I love these stories. Tears from me. Happy Birthday Doctor, you are one lucky kiddo.

Melissa said...

A big happy birthday to Doctor!

Megan: The Byron Life said...

Oh that was beautiful Lexi.
(I walked and walked like a mad-woman too with my first born and had the same feeling of thinking I might not make it back to the house because of the contractions!)

Happy happy birthday to your little guy.

x

bugmum said...

Happy Birthday, Doctor!

Neither of my birth stories are particularly great, so I won't reciprocate!

teddybearswednesday said...

This is a wonderful post, you write so well it is so vivid, that I almost felt I was having a baby ( and I've no kids figure). Happy Birthday to the Doctor and congrats to his mum too!

Kirsty said...

Just a wonderful, wonderful post Lex! Happy birthday to The Doctor.

Michelle said...

You are blessed to have such wonderful birth stories - and so talented to tell them so well. Happy birthday Doctor and congratulations to you for all your hard work four years ago!

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Cass said...

Great post I was having a good chuckle and a big Happy Birthday to the Doctor

Cindy said...

Happy birthday to you Doctor, and remember it isn't a birthday until you have eaten all the cake

Liesl (Hoppo Bumpo) said...

Happy birthday to the Doctor and a special hug to his mama. Lovely birth story.

Laura Jane said...

What a lovely story of intuitive and spontaneous labour and birth.

Congratulations to you all on 4 years of LOVE!

Hope the party is ace.

jodesmac said...

Happy Birthday Doctor!
That story was so well told,
you had me hooked the whole way (and i have 3 stories of my own)
i could tell you enjoyed the memories, it was lovely to share them with you.

Alby Mangroves said...

Well done Mama! I loved reading this, I wished mine were as natural but alas.. not to be :( Happy Birthday Doc!

Tania said...

Indeed! Well done Mama! And secretly isn't that some of what our babe's birthdays are for? A day every year to remember the detail, in all its intensity, despair and wonderment?

Monique said...

Great birth story. Thanks for sharing your tale. Hope you all had a wonderful day today for the big guys number 4. What cake did you decide on?

Michelle said...

Happy Burfday Doctor!

Emjie said...

Reading this brought back all the crazy memories of my labour which was only four months ago. Oh, and I pissed myself laughing when I read the punchline... "then me going - COME ON! Lleyton Hewitt stylie".

Stacey said...

Happy birthday Doctor!
Please tell me you were doing the Lleyton Hewitt hand thing as well?

Christina Lowry said...

I was convinced that I would keep some tiny bit of decency when in labour and keep some clothes on. Ha! As soon as I started pushing I was ripping at my clothes like a mad woman... oh yes, dark and naked, I understand.
:)

Christina Lowry said...

Hi Doctor,
Sorry I missed your birthday. Hope it was great. Hope you liked your cake and got big birthday hugs and some presents.
:) Christina
PS. Did you remember to thank your mother for having you? I will be reminding my son each birthday...

momof2gr8kidz! said...

FANTASTIC WRITTING! this really should be published in a birth mag! :) lovely. IT was like I was there My son is called the pooba! he is !

Home Girl said...

loved reading this story. am so impressed u remember so many details. you are one feisty courageous woman who tells a great tale. the doc is gunna treasure this one day and b so proud xx

Holly Homemaker said...

I just got goosebumps reading that, you are an absolute birthing goddess - Cool, calm and in control. Love it!