Isn’t it funny how despite knowing something has happened without you impacting on it in anyway, you can’t help but blame yourself for it? Even if it’s not necessarily a bad thing? Well holy shitballs man, after you have a baby it gets soo much worse. Well it has for me at least.
I have found myself feeling like an absolute monster when it comes to things I do for and to Roobs. Don’t get me wrong, she is thriving but here’s just a couple of things I find myself feeling horrible for:
1. Not being able to breastfeed my child and giving her formula instead When you’re pregnant and not long after having a baby, medical professionals and other Mums go on about the importance of feeding breastfeeding your sprog. “Breast is best”. If I had a dollar for every time someone said this to me… I wouldn’t be rich but I would be at least $300 richer. And don’t get me wrong; I tried. I ate the “boobie bikkies”, force fed myself anything with fenugreek and even got prescribed medication to try and keep any sort of supply I had. Nothing. Nada. After 8 long weeks of trying to get what I could, pumping and enduring hours of feeding at a time, I finally gave up. Do you know what that does to a woman? Do you know how terrible I felt for not being able to supply my kid with what is considered “best”? Mum Guilt 1 – Georgia 0.
2. Spending time away from Ruby I don’t know if anyone feels this but every time I leave Ruby with someone else so that I can go to an appointment or simply go to the shops, I feel like the biggest piece of shit. No matter who it is. Even when I leave her with Tristan or my Mum. It feels as though she’s going to hate me for abandoning her. You know like when you leave dogs it feels like forever for them because they live in dogs years? Sounds stupid I know but I hate leaving her for this reason. The other side to this is feeling bad for leaving someone else to look after her. Like take Mum for example. I went out on Saturday to get my hair done for the first time in a long time (turns out last time I went Ruby was 7 weeks old, she’s now nearly 6 months old) and left her at Mum’s house. Mum went out earlier in the day to get her shopping done so that she could look after Roobs. I finished at the hairdresser like 2 or 3 hours later, then Tristan was getting home from Rockhampton so I said we would meet at home so we only had to take one car to Mum’s. AND THEN I had the audacity to take my old phone case into town to give it to a lady that bought it off me on Facebook, to then drive back to Mum’s finally. I FELT TERRIBLE. I left Ruby there at around midday and didn’t return until 6pm. My poor mother. I know she loves looking after her grand daughter but she needs a life too. So double whammy. I left my kid AND my Mum for hours. Mum guilt strikes again.
3. Being excited to go back to work Like I’ve said in previous posts, I am not made to stay at home. I don’t thrive at home, I struggle with the quiet and the lack of adult conversation. I love my child more than words can express but I also live to work with other people’s kids. That’s my job and my calling, and I love it. BUT… I feel like the biggest bitch when I get excited about going back to work at the start of the year. Ruby is getting to the fun stage now, she’s rolling around, she’s got SO much character and she’s constantly changing but I can’t help but look forward to Wednesday the 20th of January when I go back to work. Despite the fact that the first 3 days are PD and planning days. While I was still at work before maternity leave, a friend and I were literally told that if we didn’t want to spend every waking hour with our child then we were terrible mothers. Talk about pressure! Don’t get me wrong, I will probably cry when I drop Ruby off (damn Mum feels) but work is where I need to be.
4. Getting ridiculously angry/frustrated with her I don’t know if it’s just me, or if other woman have had this issue, but I find myself getting crazy, crazy angry and frustrated when Ruby cries. You know when they’re crying, but you’ve fed, changed and played with them but they just continue to cry? A sudden rush of anger surges through my body. I don’t know why and I don’t know what I can do to stop it but it’s hectic.
I have tried to figure out why I have such a crazy reaction to my kid crying/screaming but the only thing I can think of is the lack of control that I have in that situation. I’m a teacher, so I deal with kids that misbehave or lose their shit in my class all the time, but the difference is that I have full control of the situation when it does happen. I like to think I have a fairly level head, but since having Ruby maybe I’m not as cool, calm and collected as I thought. I don’t like being angry so hopefully it’s not something that crosses over to my teaching when we go back. But it does make me feel horrible. I shouldn’t get angry at Ruby. She’s only 6 months old. She doesn’t know any better yet. Poor kid.
5. Not being there for my friends and family like I was before Unsettled, teething, constipated (Ruby, not me), gross after her needles. All things I’ve had to tell friends and family before cancelling our plans. I know people will say that priorities change when you have a baby but I really like being there for people and hanging out. But sometimes it just isn’t possible when Ruby doesn’t want to play the game. One of my good friend’s had a birthday shindig at hers not that long ago and it was Roobs’ first big gathering of people not at home. The poor kid was sooooo overwhelmed and screamed for the majority of the evening. I felt horrible. I know people understood but there is nothing that kills a party vibe quite like a screaming banshee. We left by 8pm and I still feel bad. Sorry friends! Before the child arrived, I loved a good party or hang out. I still do, they’re just a little different now. Quiet and mostly in front of the tv. You know where to find me.
6. ALL the things I can’t help because of COVID I know it says it in the title “things I can’t help” but it doesn’t make me feel any less guilty about them. The fact that Ruby has not met the majority of her family ABSOLUTELY KILLS me. Both Tristan and I have family in Adelaide. In fact, almost ALL of Tristan’s immediate family is in Adelaide. The only family Ruby has met in Townsville is: my Mum, step-dad, 2 step-sisters (and their kids/husbands) and my Aunty and cousins. That’s it. She hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting Tristan’s parents, both my grandmothers, my Dad, step-mum and brother, Tristan’s Aunty, Uncle and cousins, plus my endless list of cousins and extended family. And that’s just Adelaide. We have family in England, Scotland and Canada too.
AND THEN we have our friends in Adelaide and around the country/world. Honestly it’s crazy how many people aren’t going to meet Ruby until she’s no longer a baby. We’re really hoping that we can get down maybe in April to see the family, but at this stage I’m not holding my breath. Who knows what’s going to happen and when things will head back to normal but hopefully it’s soon. I miss my people.
Being a mother is hard man. 10/10 would recommend though. Just be prepared to feel like a crappy human at least twice a day. The kids definitely make it worth it though. Always.
Well…. time seems to have passed quicker than I would have liked. My kid is 5 months old. How the heck did that even happen? Like, what even is 2020? I’m convinced we’re all in a simulation and whoever is controlling it is just sitting there laughing at us. Ahhh 2020, you’re almost over. But you know what that means? It’s time for me to go back to school/work. But there’s one thing I’ve really been struggling with recently that I’m sure is only going to become more confusing once we go back. Who I am now. I’ve had a kid but is that all I am now? A mum?
For those that don’t know me; I am a teacher. And before I had Ruby, I was a teacher that would stick my finger in every pie and get involved in EVERYTHING. I lived for the students at my school and I would make sure that I was there to help out if anyone needed anything. School production? Yeah I’ll happily do hair and makeup. School formal? Yes! I am sooooo happy to make invitations, decorations, table settings, menus in my spare time. School netball team? YEAH MAN! PUT MY NAME DOWN. HERE IF YOU NEED! My school is a massive part of my life and I lived for all these extra curricular activities.
School wasn’t my only past time though. I play netball and have since I was 7, so going down to the courts on a Tuesday/Wednesday night was just part of my routine. I played, I coached and I often got warnings on the court. BUT I loved it. It was who I was. Netball is love. Netball is life.
Accurate depiction of how I feel when I play
So, super keen teacher and netball player? Tick. Another aspect of my identity was wife. Tristan and I got together in January 2015, engaged December 2015, married December 2016 and moved to Townsville in January 2017 (well I did, he stayed home to pack up the house and dog to move up in March). Since day dot, we were together pretty much all the time. A package deal. Now we have 2 dogs, a house and now a baby. A lot can happen in 5 years.
But why am I going through all of this? Because I am honestly at a loss when it comes to what/who I am now. What am I going to be when I go back to school? Am I just going to be that teacher that’s come back from leave? Am I just a mum now? Like what am I? Who am I? After years of knowing who I was and having other people know who I was, it’s going to weird trying to find my feet again. I feel like a kid going to a new school or something. I spose it’s something that may come naturally, eventually, but until then I live in hope that I don’t become some lame mum-type. I’m not a regular mum – I’m a cool mum.
Watch this space – I’ll let you know in the new year what happens. But for now, check out this cute picture of my kid. I die.
This is for all the single mums, single dads, wives, husbands and partners of FIFO/DIDO workers and those in the defence force. I honestly don’t know how you do this all the time. And by this, I mean look at a small child or god forbid children.
Tristan went away a couple of weeks ago for uni and to tell you I struggled to be by myself would be an understatement. I had no one to talk to at night, no one to hand the baby off to so I could have a shower. No one to laugh with me as Ruby shoved her hand so far down her throat she gagged but then did it again. Being by yourself with a small human is exhausting. This is by no means a pity party. I’m not saying feel sorry for me because I was alone. This is just a sudden realisation I’ve had after experiencing it. Don’t at me.
Getting to the end of the day… I feel you Jonah
I know some people would say that they don’t have a choice and financially it’s the only feasible option for them but man you people are crazy amazing. I cannot imagine Tristan going away for more than a week at a time. I know I probably sound like an idiot but I am honestly so amazed by the men and women that do this all the time and don’t even bat an eyelid.
Take those that are in the defence force for example. They can be overseas when their baby is born. They miss it completely! And then sometimes they don’t even get to see the baby until it’s 6 months old. I just can’t even. How do the mums do it? They must have hella good support at home. Or maybe they’re just superheroes? I dunno man but ya’ll need some sort of medal.
I praise you all.
I had a discussion with a good friend of mine the other day and her partner is in the Army. They had been posted to Darwin when she had her first baby, while her family was back here in Townsville. I just can’t imagine that. Being in a completely different state without my family around me, caring for this tiny human. Again. Superhero right? And yet she just kind of shrugged it off like it was nothing. That kind of stuff takes some massive lady balls. I just don’t think I have them.
So I guess what I’m saying is that these people need more acknowledgement. I see you. I see what you’re doing. You are amazing.
Rant ahead. I apologise in advance for this but I am just shocked and appalled by people’s lack of better judgement. Also, this post will lack the comical GIFs I usually post. Bloody husband is away for uni this week and took my computer with him. Damn him.
So, yesterday I went to my nearest shopping centre and boy did I have a shit time. And I’m not even talking about the fact that my food shop for a week cost over $100. (Like why is the healthiest food the most expensive?! it’s almost as if they want me to be a fatty forever) I witnessed one of the most frustrating conversations I think I’ve ever heard.
So while I was in the parents’ room at my local shopping centre, a couple of ladies with prams came in. One was around my age and the other looked like she was probably around 40ish. The lady in her 40s was talking AT the younger Mum and absolutely berating her for something that she “wasn’t doing right.” I’m not exactly sure what they were talking about but holy shit this woman had some things to say. A lot of what she was saying was “you have to” and “you need to” or “it’s a must”. A lot of that was followed by “I do this blah blah blah”, to which the poor other Mum didn’t have much to say. She kind of stood there and took it as the other woman kept at her. It took all my energy not to turn around and either punch this woman in the teeth or tell her to shove her “needs” and “musts” where the sun don’t shine, because lady you gotta stop.
Now, I don’t have any issue with people sharing their experiences and “knowledge” but can we please stop making Mum’s feel like crap because their baby doesn’t do what your baby does? I see it all the time. I’m a part of a fair few Facebook groups for new Mum’s and there is always some Karen on there feeling the need to tell another woman how to care for her baby. Where is our sense of community? Why don’t we lift each other up rather than tearing people down because they’re just doing what they can to get by. It is so frustrating. We’re all in the same boat. We carried this kid for 9+ months and now we’re thrown into the deep end and have to try and figure out what the little gremlin wants when she’s crying at me for 40+ minutes but won’t let me touch her to see what I can do for her (yes this is what happened to me tonight. But we got there.)
I feel the need to emphasise for some people that every baby is different. Just because one thing worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me. I have a heap of family and friends that have had babies around the same time as me and I know that Ruby has slept all the way through the night since about 7 weeks old but I can’t tell them what they need to do to make their babies sleep through. Mainly because I’m not actually sure what I’m doing to get her down and out for the 10+ hours but also because I don’t have the right to tell them what to do. I can only offer suggestions for what “might” work for them.
I think women tend to also forget that times change and as we find out more through modern medicine, what was suggested 10 years ago may not be what people are told to do now. My Mum is a perfect example of this. She said to me, “I feel like I can’t really help you at this point because every I was told 25 years ago has gone out the window. I’m in the same boat as you and learning as we go.” Why can’t everyone be as easy going and understanding?
I think what I’m trying to say is, give the new Mum’s in your life a break. They’re trying to figure stuff out and yes it might not be the way you would look after the baby but cut her some slack. If it works for her, leave her be. Don’t tell her what she “needs” to do, maybe be like; “yeah this worked for me, maybe see if it helps you out?”. And enough of the unsolicited advice. If a new Mum asks for your opinion on something, sure go for it. Otherwise, shaddupayaface. Also, if I end up giving you my two cents worth when you don’t want it, feel free to punch me in the face.
Just quickly. Another thing that has happened to me and I sure as shit didn’t enjoy was another Mum telling me “yeah I guess your baby is cute but mine is definitely cuter.” Like hold the goddam phone. A. You don’t say that. B. You definitely don’t say that to the mother of the baby. And C. I’ve seen a photo of her baby and she’s wrong. Like, where do you get off lady? Aren’t we meant to empower each other and say “aww cute” even if the baby isn’t cute?! Don’t try and baby shame me lady. Tell me I’m doing something wrong but don’t you dare tell me she isn’t as cute as your monkey baby.
Look at this face and tell me she isn’t cute
So. Yeah. Don’t be a douchelord and bring other Mum’s down because they’re not you and they don’t do things the way you deem suitable. Cut them some slack. They’re probably working off a couple of hours sleep. Be nice.
Almost everyone I talk to: “Oh you must love sitting at home with your baby and not working. I would give anything to be able to do that. Watching TV and sleeping when the baby sleeps.”
One thing maternity leave has definitely taught me, is that I am not made to stay at home and look after children. I’ll have them, but Tristan can definitely be the stay at home Dad. Yes I love Ruby, more than anything but I need to be around people. I’m a social person. Staying home and looking after a baby is rather boring. Yep. I said boring. “But Georgia, how could it be boring when you have washing, feeding, playing, eating and all the Netflix you can watch?” MATE. There are only so many things you can watch on TV before it starts getting boring. I have Netflix, Stan, SBS onDemand, ABC iview and Disney+ but nothing can satisfy my hunger. Did I say it was boring? Don’t forget super lonely. All my work friends are at work, my husband is at work, my parents are at work and the majority of the mothers groups aren’t going ahead because of COVID.
Again, don’t get me wrong. I love spending time with Ruby; making her laugh, dressing her in all her clothes, watching her learn new things but alas I am still struggling. When she’s asleep during the day it’s usually only for around 40 minutes max and in that time I try to get something to eat, clean bottles, put some washing on (that I will ultimately forget about) or dress myself for the day. I’m no domestic goddess. I don’t enjoy household things. Much to my husband’s dismay.
As a teacher, you are constantly surrounded by people. You arrive in the morning, office full of people. You go to class, teenagers. They talk. A lot. While the conversations aren’t always relevant to what you’re teaching at the time, and more likely to be about their weekend; it’s still someone talking to you. Babies don’t talk. They cry and gurgle but I wouldn’t call it a super thrilling conversation. Lunches; you’re back in the staff room with adults again. Final lessons of the day, more students and conversations. Then the end of the day often has meetings or general conversations at the least. Consistent communication. You can see where I’m going with this right? I miss it. I miss the kids. I miss the people I work with and most of all I miss the back and forth conversations.
I’m sure after reading this, you’re asking yourself, “why would you have kids if you knew this was how you were going to feel? You obviously don’t want to spend time with your kid and therefore you’re a terrible mother.” Trust me. This constantly runs through my mind. I often think that I should enjoy my time off more but it is so hard. I think maybe I would be more inclined to enjoy it if COVID hadn’t happened this year too. Think about it. We were teaching in the classroom, then we were planning for a week. School then didn’t go back for 5 weeks and we were teaching online. School went back and I was there for 2 weeks before I started my maternity leave. I thought that maybe if I had been that heavily pregnant and teaching that whole time I may have been over people and needed the break like most teachers do. But I was lucky? I don’t know if I would say lucky because I like people (for the most part) but I think it made a difference. 2020 has been a weird year in teaching, that’s for sure. But I miss it. I’ve even found myself going into school for visits and taking Ruby. If I could strap her to my chest and teach the class, I would be there in a heartbeat. I miss my kids.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love my job. I love my students. And I really miss being there all the time. But I also, really love spending time with my baby girl and helping her learn things. I just wish I could do both at the same time.
While I was pregnant, a lot of my Momma friends (and people that haven’t had kids for that matter) warned me about things that would happen after I had a baby. BUT. There were also a LOT of things that I wasn’t actually prepared for despite being warned. Here’s a list of the things that happened after I had my little bundle of joy that absolutely knocked me for six:
Hormones:
Before having Ruby, I was just about the least emotional person in the world. I don’t cry in movies, in fact I get awkward around people when they cry because I don’t really know what to do. But I tell you what, the hormones that hit me after having my little smoosh were out of this world. People had warned me about the 3 day baby blues but I was just lucky enough to get them on day one. I was a ball of emotions. Crying in the car while I watched Ruby sleep in her car seat. Why? Because she was so cute and I loved her so much. I cried in the shower just because. The first night home Tristan told me that he loved me and I lost it. Sobbing. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I have never felt such emotions.
I remember Tristan laughing at me and telling me that I would be ok. He didn’t know what to expect or when to expect it the poor guy. One second I would be totally fine and the next I would be crying on the couch “just because.” Now these hormones lasted a little longer than I would have preferred. I was pretty tender for quite a while which felt so so wrong.
Just how tired I would be:
Now I know it sounds daft but I was definitely not prepared for how tired I would actually be. People warned me, but seriously. That shit was next level. I didn’t sleep for well over 36 hours. I went into labour in the evening, then stayed up all night, had my baby in the morning and then stayed awake all day and well into the next morning. I was a wreck. Being so tired made every other need disappear. I had no appetite. Both Tristan and my Mum would try and get me to eat but often it just ended in tears from me. No food means no energy. Just a never-ending cycle of fatigue.
Breastfeeding:
I was a little naive when it came to breastfeeding. I just assumed that because it was a natural thing that generally speaking, it would be pretty self-explanatory. How wrong I was. I struggled soooooo hard with breastfeeding. I was lucky enough to be one of those ladies who’s milk came in hella late. It was only after 5+ hours of feeding at a time (ending in tears of course) and a visit from my midwife, that we realised that nothing was really happening. Lauren told me to try pumping every 4 hours if I hadn’t already fed, in the hope that it would come down. Thank God for Lauren because that pumping was just the ticket. I had milk! But it didn’t last long. I really really struggled to make sure I was getting anything. I was even put on Domperidone to try and make sure that my supply stayed put. It hasn’t really worked, but I’m still trying. This shit isn’t for the weak.
How much I would hate my body after birth:
I’ve not been happy with my body for a long time, but things definitely change after carrying a baby around for 9+ months. One of the first things I did after I had Ruby was just down on my stomach and feel how empty it was. It was strange. I could push my hand all the way down towards my back without my baby taking up that space. I didn’t know how to feel but I was definitely feeling a little sad. Nothing felt as bad as a couple of days after the delivery though. I looked at my body in the mirror and hated it. Every thing was different. Every thing seemed to have moved. No matter how many times Tristan told me he still loved me and didn’t care what I looked like, I wasn’t having a bar of it. I still hate my body and really want to make a change, I just need some time.
Baby spotting:
I have only noticed this since having a baby… but it is an unspoken rule that when you walk past another Mum with a pram, you MUST check out the baby in the pram. I never noticed it before! But you better bloody believe I take part in it now. I can’t help myself. Every time I see another pram I will without a doubt make sure I look into that pram to see what the baby looks like. And other Mums do it too. I’ve seen so many women peeking over the edge of the bassinet on my pram to see what Ruby looks like. Let them look, because let’s be honest Roobs is pretty damn cute.
Ruby; better known as “Boobs” in our family
The lack of brain function that I would have:
Wow. That’s all I can say about the lack of brain power I now have. For anyone that has had a conversation with me, I am sorry. The number of times I forget what I’m saying or the names of simple things is a joke. I went into work the other day and I was trying to have a conversation with my boss, but I couldn’t for the life of me string a sentence together. He laughed at me. “I’m glad you still manage to speak like an adult.” Thanks mate, as if I wasn’t struggling enough without you pointing it out. Damn that man aha. But really. I quite often forget names of people that I know really well and can’t finish sentences because I just don’t know what I’m trying to say. Super super frustrating. Baby brain is real. Pray for me.
WARNING: This is a labour and birth story. If you are offended by words like stitches, blood, vomit and god forbid vagina, this is probably one to miss. You have been warned. Also, it’s really quite long.
I had asked Mum a few times how I would know that I was in labour. How would I know when I was having contractions? Would it be super obvious if my waters broke? Mum reassured me, “oh you’ll know when you’re in labour.” I still wasn’t 100% sure when it happened.
I was 41 weeks pregnant and feeling pretty huge. My sister had organised a BBQ at her house because my brother in law was going interstate for a couple of months for work. We’d had dinner and were just sitting around the table talking as we normally did. At around 6:30 I felt this pain in my stomach. I thought nothing of it, I had just eaten greasy BBQ food and I am prone to stomach aches. Around half an hour later I felt the same thing. Again, just thought it was my stomach. But then 10 minutes later I felt it again, it lasted a little longer this time. Then it happened again after a couple of minutes. By then my sisters and their cousin were starting to wonder whether or not I was having contractions.
I remember one of them asking me, “are you having contractions?” I think I answered with, “I don’t know? I’ve never had them before. Maybe?” I was told to start timing them, see how long it was between the pains. I did. They were around 2-3 minutes apart.
Yeah… they were pretty close together
By then Tristan started stressing. They weren’t ridiculously painful but definitely uncomfortable. Between my sister’s feeling my belly as the pains came and then went again, and me wincing with the pain, Tristan really started to stress.
“They’re 2 minutes apart. The hospital said we need to go in when they’re 2 minutes apart!”
We grabbed our things and started heading towards Mum’s house. She lived closer to the hospital and my bags had been in the car since I was 35 weeks just to be sure. As we were in the car I called my midwife. Poor Lauren sounded like I had just woken her up. Because I could talk through my contractions she advised me to go home and try to relax through them before actually going into the hospital. We headed to Mum’s to be closer to the hospital and to have a little that support I think we both needed.
The contractions continued to come hard and fast. We decided to sleep at Mum’s just in case we had to get to the hospital in the middle of the night. Being the super supportive husband that Tristan is, he went home for me to get my pillow and chargers for our phones. In the 40 minutes he was gone, the contractions started to get a little out of control. As he got back, I told him it was definitely time to go in. Mum told us to call her when we knew what was happening.
We got to the hospital and made our way up to the birth suites. The midwives up there were amazing. I honestly cannot remember of the one that did my initial check but she was great. There was a first year student midwife following her around and the poor thing was sooo hesitant to do anything. She asked every time if it was ok to touch me. I felt for her. I was so thankful when the midwife told me I was 4cm dilated (think she may have called it a little early but I’ll take it!) and that they would move me to one of the birthing rooms. By then it was around midnight, we called Mum and she headed in. The midwife that welcomed us called Lauren and told us she was on her way in too. Things seemed to be happening.
As the contractions continued to come I decided I would give the gas a go. Never in my life have I felt so ridiculously drunk. I hate the feeling of being drunk. Tristan will tell you that the gas didn’t make me sound like an idiot though. I remember telling him that I could hear the music playing in the room in surround sound. I’m sure I said a number of really dumb things. The gas was going ok but because I didn’t get much of a break to breathe the gas out after the contraction before starting again, it made me sick. Like physically ill. I vomited. Everywhere. You know that watery feeling in your mouth you get right before you puke? I had that. But it was between the contractions and I said something along the lines of “there’s water in my mouth” to Tristan but he had no idea what I was saying. So. I just puked. Potato bake and BBQ’d meat everywhere. To tell you it smelt like onion and garlic is an understatement. It was horrible. Poor Lauren threw towels on the ground and scooped up my beautiful mess. I kept apologising but was told “it is part of the job. Don’t worry about it.” Lauren then made the decision that maybe she should put the diffuser on with some lavender just to mask the smell. Good decision Lauren, very smart.
By then, Tristan had been able to get onto my student midwife Regan and she had made her way into the hospital too. I am sooo thankful for both Lauren and Regan and couldn’t have done this without them, but I’ll save my big write up for their own post. Despite it being super early in the morning and I was in a lot of pain, Regan made it such a great environment. She held my hand as the contractions came when both Mum and Tristan weren’t quite quick enough. Sorry for the squashed finger Regan but you took it like a champ. The contractions still continued and I had some morphine but it just didn’t seem to take enough of an edge off for me to be comfortable. I remember Tristan asking me if I had any intention of delivering this baby without an epidural, which after around 7 hours of hard core contractions was an easy answer. Give me that epidural and do it now. Lauren called for the anaesthetist to come and give me the beautiful drug that allowed me some time out.
I was still using the gas when he came in and God I was embarrassing. The gas had me telling him that he definitely wasn’t old enough to be specialised. He was young ok? Well he seemed really young. I’m sure he was old enough and he did a great job at the epidural but that didn’t stop me from asking Mum if she thought he looked old enough. Loud enough for him to hear. What an idiot. But he was great. I think his name was Stephen. AND he managed to get a rather large needle into my back while I was contracting. I remember Regan and Tristan both holding me super still while I was still sucking on the gas and contracting as he moved in. What a champ. Once that baby kicked in it was amazing. I couldn’t feel a thing. Amazing. Life changing.
I think by then I was around 6 or 7cm dialated but the sheer relief from the epi was all I cared about. Watching the monitors, Lauren and Regan noticed that my contractions had started to slow down. Lauren ordered some oxytocin to speed things up a little and we let it do it’s thing. While I wasn’t in an insane amount of pain anymore, I still couldn’t sleep. I tried. Tristan sat there staring at me telling me to close my eyes but I just couldn’t do it. Mum on the other hand…
Sleeping Beauty
Hours passed and there didn’t seem to be much happening. Tristan was again starting to get a little skittish. He was worried something was wrong and that I would need to go in for a c-section. Obviously its not what we wanted but whatever we needed to get this girl out was fine. Lauren reassured him that everything was indeed fine and it was the last thing on her mind.
I think it was around 8am on Saturday the 4th of July that Lauren told me I was 10cm dialated. She said that waiting an hour to push would just encourage baby to move down further on her own so we went with that option. I know somewhere around this time, I can’t for the life of me remember if it was before or after but Lauren broke my waters too because they were still intact.
An hour passed and Lauren said that the little smooch was in the perfect position to start pushing. So despite not being able to feel anything under my boobs I pushed. The first couple were rubbish. I couldn’t feel anything and had NO idea what I was trying to do but eventually I got the technique. Well, that’s what Lauren said anything. After a few pushes I remember seeing Lauren’s face and she looked a little stressed. She looked at me and very calmly said that she may need to perform an episiotomy because every time I stopped pushing bubba’s heart rate would drop. Again, if you don’t know what that is I’ll let you Google it again. I told her to do whatever she needed to do, but inside I was telling myself that I would get the baby out.
I was told to push, push, push and push again. Then we rested. Lauren looked somewhat stressed but I couldn’t really hear anything. I guess I was in the zone? It’s weird to think about now but my Momma instincts must have kicked in and I just did it. I don’t remember this part but both Mum and Tristan told me what happened. Lauren told me to push 3 times and had picked up the scissors in between. She got to the point where she said “stop stop stop, little push” trying to control it but by then I had just pushed her out completely and poor Lauren and Regan had to catch her on the way out.
Suddenly I had a tiny human thrown on my chest and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to feel or what to think. I know I loved her but I was in too much shock to actually be able to process what had just happened. Mum, Tristan, Regan and Lauren all got very excited as she let out her first cry. I had this gorgeous little person on my chest and I still didn’t know what to do. While Lauren and Regan did their thing I just laid there and looked at her. Tristan and Mum stood around me and looked at the newest family member. Eventually after a while Regan handed Tristan the scissors and he cut the cord. His first Dad act and Mum caught it on camera.
Sorry for the blood and guts
The normal procedures followed with the delivery of the placenta and then checking it to make sure everything was in order. Lauren then had to check me and make sure I was somewhat intact and make sure I didn’t any stitches. She even got another midwife from the hospital in to see if I actually needed them. Unfortunately for me, I needed the stitches and Lauren wasn’t comfortable doing all of them because of their location. I’ll leave out where they were but basically if they weren’t done properly I would be knocking on her door after she took something away from me. Use your imagination and I’m sure you can figure it out. But she had to call in the doctor to stitch me up.
One thing I should have mentioned before was the doctor that was working at the time of my baby’s birth.
Side note: We called our little bundle of joy Ruby Louise Horewood.
FLASH BACK: Because of COVID one of my hospital appointments had turned into a phone appointment. I sat around the house all day waiting for a call and eventually I got a call from Dr Adi Gaur from the Townsville Hospital. He asked me how I had been and said they would contact me again after my next scan. It was short lived but how much can you really go over on the phone. After we hung up I really thought about it. I went to school with an Adi Gaur and I knew he was a doctor and I knew he worked at the Townsville Hospital because I had seen him in the maternity ward once while doing an Easter visit with some students a couple of years ago. So I quickly jumped on Facebook and messaged Adi. I said, “hey, was that you that just called me for my appointment?” He replied not too long after and said something like, “yeah it was! I didn’t realise it was you because of the last name.” I got married so it’s different to when I was at school. We talked briefly about how crazy it was and joked that maybe he would be on while I was in.
Come back to the birthing suite: As change over of the shift happened the morning I gave birth, the doctors that were starting came in to say hi. Low and behold, it was Adi. He basically said, “get the baby out without me and it’ll be great. Obviously if you need me call but otherwise do it yourself.” Which obviously we both would have preferred to happen. And I did. We got the baby out without him, but… I needed stitches. He was the doctor on. Therefore he had to stitch me up.
Poor Adi came into the room and I had my legs up in stirrups. He would have been soo torn. He was trying to act professionally but he had known me all through high school and our parents even knew each other. But bless him, he got on with the job and did what he had to do. I’m sorry you had to see that Adi but cheers for the great stitch job! I’m a pretty carefree person and like to joke about life so as we chatted while he was down there, I made the joke of telling everyone at our 10 year school reunion that he had seen and fixed ALL of me. The poor guy didn’t know what to say, but at least now I’m telling more than just the guys at school. Again, Adi you are the real MVP.
After a few hours and one failed and one successful attempt at a shower I was off to the maternity ward. We said goodbye to Lauren and Regan; the poor ladies looked like they needed to sleep for 100,000 hours. Again, I could not thank those 2 enough. My favourite midwives ever. While I was in the maternity ward you were only allowed to have 2 visitors per day and one at a time, and Tristan counted as a visitor even though he was a support person. Mum went home just before we went to the maternity ward so I said goodbye to her then and then I didn’t see her until the next evening. She came back to the hospital with my step-dad Grant but because she had seen Ruby being born she told him to come into the ward to say hello and hold Ruby. Tristan took Ruby out to the hallway and Mum had a hold then brought her back into the ward and Grant had a cuddle. So COVID meant I didn’t get to see my Mum hold my baby for the first time but at least she got to be there for the birth in the end.
Grant didn’t stay long and Tristan had to go by 8pm; then it was just Ruby and I. I couldn’t believe that it was just the two of us. I was sharing a room with a lady and her 3rd baby but her kid honestly didn’t make a sound the whole night. Ruby on the other hand was SUPER unsettled. I cried quietly to myself as she cried and I heard the lady sigh through the curtain as she tried to sleep. I felt horrible but I didn’t know what I was doing. As Ruby wouldn’t settle, the amazing midwife on the ward at the time took her for a couple of hours so that I could sleep. I think I slept for about an hour then woke up. She came back 2 hours later with a hungry child and I tried all over again. Eventually we both got tired of walking the hallways in the ward and she slept for a couple of hours. I slept for another hour before I could finally message Tristan at 7am, as the visiting hours started again at 8am.
Ruby Louise Horewood, 4/7/20
Keep in mind, while this is all happening, my local had worn off and the midwife had to remove my catheter so that I could try and pee on my own. Wow. The feeling of the local wearing off sucked. I had frozen ice bricks in my underwear to try and ease some of the pain. When they tell you to use these in the hospital, do it.
Once Tristan came back into the hospital, we had a chat and I had a shower in the hope that we could go home at some point that day. After my shower they basically talked us over a couple of things, she got checked out and then that was it. They just let us go. With a newborn baby. By ourselves. I still couldn’t believe I had a newborn. I didn’t know what the next few weeks would hold but shit I would find out soon. Our adventure with Ruby Lou had only just started.
One thing you hear constantly when you’re pregnant is, “when I was pregnant….” Usually this is followed by some sort of horror story about the time they went into labour in the middle of Woolworths and someone slipped on their broken waters. People need to remember that every pregnancy is different and just because you did something one way, it doesn’t mean doing it another way is wrong. I got my fair share of pregnancy shaming, but this is how my pregnancy went down.
October-November (1-2 months)
I have never been so sick in my life. I got hit hard with morning sickness. I would wake up in the morning and feel like death. Drive to school and all I could eat was dry wafer biscuits. After I had eventually told my boss (I had to tell him fairly early because I was due to go to Singapore and Malaysia but ended up having to send someone else (no immunisations for Malaria for preggo) he would laugh at me as I walked in the door. I didn’t have a great poker face in my staff room because I was constantly trying to keep it together in front of my classes. Don’t forget about the fatigue. Oh my God. I was like a walking zombie. Everyone said it would be over by the second trimester. They lied.
December-January (3-4 months)
School finished up for the year but unfortunately my morning sickness had not. I don’t even know why they call it morning sickness. That shit is ALL DAY sickness. What made matters worse was the fact that I can’t actually vomit unless I am gravely ill. No matter how many times I shoved my fingers down my throat to see if I could get myself to vomit to try and get some relief; it wouldn’t work. I even used a wooden spoon and pleaded with my Mum to try and put her fingers down my throat to see if it would work. Nothing. Nada. Just constant nausea. By the end of the school year I was 12 weeks but I had only told those closest to me and those that really needed to know at school.
Just before Christmas we announced our bundle of joy. I think I was around 14 weeks when I posted the video.
Thanks Nat’s What I Reckon for doing the best pregnancy announcement ever.
Needless to say, we got a lot of messages and phone calls after we posted it. Around the time this was happening, we also moved in our new house. Between Tristan, Mum, Grant, Erin and Werner I wasn’t allowed to do anything. I pretty much sat on the floor of the new house while every brought in boxes and did the heavy work. Christmas came and went and I started back at school for another year. Still bloody tired.
February-March (5-6 months)
By now I was definitely feeling pregnant, even though I didn’t really look it. We did however, find out the sex of our little one. It was my sister’s birthday so I thought I would surprise her with the colour of the baby’s sex in the cake. This took a LOT of organising and just as we got there my niece told my sister about the plan to surprise her with the colour of the baby’s sex in the cake. To say I was not pleased was an understatement. But it was a pretty great present for her, even if my niece made it a little less surprising.
My nephew however… he was not as excited about it being a girl. Sorry Julian.
April- May (7-8 months)
Finally, after months of people looking at me and not having the courage to ask, I started to look somewhat pregnant. Some people had even gone as far as to talk about my little bump and call it “weird”. Those people are dead to me. Judgmental people are my favourite. Said no one ever.
Yeah, she was little.
But by now I was starting to really feel pregnant. Little miss would constantly kick and move around. I remember her having hiccups around 4 times a day. Even now I miss those kicks and little jerks from when she was having one of her hiccup sessions. One thing I didn’t experience at this time (which I am SUPER thankful for) was the random people touching my belly. I think my face was usually enough of a deterrent to stop those wandering hands. Sometime resting bitch face and the added teacher stare can work in your favour. My waddle had really made itself known. Quite often kids would laugh and say how “cute” it was. I wasn’t feeling cute.
COVID had really started to get serious at this point and hospital appointments were changed to phone appointments and there was the threat of only one person being allowed in the delivery room. Anyone that knows me knows that I am super, crazy, ridiculously close to my Mum. I have always known that I wanted her in the delivery room when I had a baby. Knowing there was a chance that she wouldn’t be there scared the shit out of me.
June (9 months)
I was well and truly ready to have this little lady out by now. I had experienced super fat ankles and hands by now. I couldn’t wear any rings and I was often told to sit and put my feet up by the people I work with. This was often answered with “yeah yeah I will, I’m fine” but the nagging continued. One thing to know about me. The more you push an idea on me, the more likely I am to push back and ignore you. I’m sorry work friends. The stubborn trait definitely didn’t fade as I got fatter.
Super pumped that I started to actually look pregnant
One thing I did really suffer with at this point was a muscle band I had in my stomach that pretty much cut me in half as it wouldn’t release. It was super uncomfortable and often I would complain about the tightness I felt. No matter how many baths I had, creams Tristan rubbed into the muscles and supportive bands I wore, it just wouldn’t release and caused me pain. None of the doctors knew what it was and my midwife Lauren was confused by it too but we just agreed to keep an eye on it.
I was due on the 26th of June and as we got closer to the date I got more antsy and excited about little Miss’ arrival. I think it was around 37-38 weeks when Lauren offered me my first stretch and sweep. For those that haven’t heard of it before, I’ll let you Google that one for yourself. With the tiny possibility that it would start my labour I was all for it. I was definitely fed up by now. But alas, nothing happened.
June 25th came around and still nothing, I had a hospital appointment and the doctor said that there wasn’t really any sign of a baby coming anytime soon so she told me to ask Lauren to book me in for an induction date. Here in Townsville they only let you go 10 days past your due date so the 7th of July was booked. I was going to go in early that morning and then hopefully have a baby by that evening. That was far too long to wait in my books.
Sitting on a bouncy ball, wearing compression stockings. Hot.
July (9-10 months)
I. was. done. By now I was super over it. I was swollen and the waddle was ridiculous. I needed this baby out.
Around 6:30pm on the 3rd of July I felt something. I didn’t know what it was but it was something.
“You need to do a test. You’re probably pregnant. You have a lot of the symptoms. Just do one.”
My friend Erin knew me better than I knew myself. She knew before I knew. She was right. October 21st 2019, I went to the bathroom and came back to my dining room table with a positive pregnancy test. I didn’t know what to do with it so I just put it on the table in front of my husband Tristan, Mum and Step-Dad Grant. I don’t think I said anything. Tristan just looked at me and Mum told me I had to do another one in the morning just to make sure.
“You know the first pee of the day is the best indicator.”
Well… there it is.
I did the test the next day. It was a bloody strong positive. Clear as day. I remember walking into my Mum’s room and saying something along the lines of, “well shit. It’s positive. Now what?” While feeling like I was too young to have a kid, at the exact same time I was super excited for what could happen in the not too distant future. Even though I had NO idea what I was in for.
I had only really been around 3 people that I was close to that had been pregnant. My step-sisters had kids young and I was even younger when they were pregnant. Seeing as they didn’t live with us, I didn’t really get to experience all of the side effects of being pregnant. I would only see them every now and then, so it seemed like a breeze. Erin was pregnant in my second year back in Townsville. She didn’t have the smoothest pregnancy but again I didn’t get to see every aspect of her journey as I didn’t live with her. I was however, her “class watching, toilet person” which she later returned the favor with, coming to rescue me when I had a couple of classes and the sudden urge to pee (thanks Erin!)
I was 25 years old, loving my job and the people I worked with (most of them anyway) and Tristan and I had started the process of buying a house. I was meant to be travelling with 5 students to Singapore and Malaysia in December and now I was pregnant. I had thought of myself as a fairly healthy person. I don’t get sick often, but now I had been told by a doctor that I was basically overweight and needed to lose weight because I was “high risk” and had a high chance of gestational diabetes. She basically made it sound like I was a terrible person and I was putting my unborn child at risk. This was AFTER she had questioned Tristan and I about whether or not we were adult enough to look after a baby and whether or not we wanted to keep it. I have never been so angry at a doctor before. That first appointment is when you are supposed to be excited but it finished with me walking out feeling like a whale and defeated before I had even begun.
Poland, December 2018. The calm before the storm
Looking back now, it makes me sad to think about the start of my pregnancy. While I had it easier than others in the pregnancy itself, it would have been nice to have a better first experience. There’s always time for celebration in the second pregnancy. I’ll just wait for that.
Trying Not to Ruin My Child 