Thomas was born
on the 26th September 2005. On Sunday the 25th we were still
organizing the last wee thing. Grand-Nev came around in the
morning and put the security locks on the windows. I wondered
sometimes if it was like he was waiting for everything to be
done!
In the afternoon
Paul played the guitar, while I went for a walk with my best
friend Kate on the beach. We went quite a long way up towards
St.Kilda from St.Claire, especially considering how pregnant I
was. We had a lovely chat and I was wondering when my baby was
going to come? We got home at four thirty and I needed a sleep.
So I slept until six, which was a long sleep for me as I didn’t
really do that much sleeping while pregnant. I wondered if I was
saving my strength for something more exciting.
When I woke up I
felt really fresh, and my Nana had phoned from the North Island.
She had sent a package and had been a bit confused about the
address. Unfortunately it had been sent to one that I thought
may have been at the bottom of our street down a large flight of
stairs. So I said I’d go and check and call her back. I was
feeling really full of beans and hadn’t taken on this flight of
stairs for a while because my giant tummy had been hurting when
I had. But this time it was no problem. As it turned out the
address she had sent it too didn’t even exist so I rang her back
to let her know.
Paul and I had
the tea which he had been cooking, then at about 8.30 we went to
do the groceries. We didn’t get back until 10.30 but I still
felt quite good. We put the groceries away and went to bed.
Thomas was kicking busily, probably his first real chance after
all the activities of the day! I fell asleep easily but awoke at
2 am to some niggly pains. By 2.30 I couldn’t sleep and thought,
‘hmmm, I had better get up and do some assignment cause I
probably won’t have much time this week.’ I sat at the
computer for about an hour and did nearly all of the assignment,
although I couldn’t sit through the contractions. I had to get
up and walk around. I was also online with a friend of ours from
England and she joked, “Your not in labour are you?”
I also got some
weetbix and tamarillo’s, thinking I would need more energy later
but could only eat about three quarters of them. With every
contraction from the beginning, I felt like I needed to go to
the loo. The contractions were getting closer together but I
didn’t really ever time them because I thought I had hours and
hours to go. I thought I should probably wake Paul, so I went
into the bedroom some time between 3.30 and 4am, and said,
‘Babe, I am having some contraptions (our word for
contractions), but don’t get up if you don’t want to.” Of course
he couldn’t sleep so he got up and started to set up the pool.
I couldn’t sit
down any more because it was too sore to. I had a few more
contractions and thought, ‘Oh God these are really sore, how am
I going to do this for 10 hours?’ At about 4am I said to Paul,
‘Should I call Margaret (the midwife) or Mum?” I decided by ten
past that Margaret was the best option because she was used to
this. Plus Mum was sick and probably not able to come in anyway,
so I could call her in the morning. I rang, and Margaret said
‘Don’t worry, try to walking around and breathing. If the
contractions haven’t got stronger or closer together I’ll be
round at 8ish.”
So I did what she
had said. I was trying to get Paul to time the contractions but
he was a bit busy with the pool and every time I said, “How long
was that?” He said ‘I don’t know.” Looking back now I think he
didn’t even have enough time to check between them really.
Finally I said to
Paul, ‘I don’t think I can do this for 10 hours.” I had one more
contraction dropped the hot-water-bottle I was holding and ran
to the loo again. The urge to push was so much stronger than the
earlier bowel emptying ones. I yelled “Pauuuulll! Ring Margaret
something’s wrong!” I thought something was wrong because it
seemed to be too soon to be feeling like this, after all the
ante-natal stuff said hours of cake baking and playing cards. I
was terrified something was wrong with me or my baby. I tried a
few positions to hold my baby in but of course they didn’t
really work. So I sat back on the toilet and pushed. The waters
broke and Thomas’s head started coming down. I saw the waters in
the loo and knew they were healthy. Suddenly I realised nothing
as wrong and the baby was on its way. So I took off my pyjama
pants (which were still around my ankles!) got down on the floor
on one foot and one knee and pushed my baby out!
I caught him by
holding his head and feeling his body slip out. I looked down
and he looked like a little sunshine, limbs and umbilical cord
flowing from his tiny body and eyes open. I laughed. I couldn’t
believe he was here and we’d done it on our own. I said “Paul,
here’s your boy.” (We didn’t know what he was going to be before
hand). We both thought is he o.k? Thomas obliged and gave a wee
squeak, the sweetest sound ever. Paul got a towel and we tried
to wrap him as best we could. The umbilical cord was a bit short
so I couldn’t pull him close to me.
Paul had called
Margaret and she had raced over in her car. She didn’t live to
far away luckily for us. She arrived about five minutes after he
was born to find our new family on the bathroom floor. We all
moved into the living room. Paul cut the umbilical cord and
Thomas tried to have a wee drink. I called my Mum to tell her
and her first grandchild had arrived. An hour after Thomas was
born the placenta came and the birth was completed.
What an
empowering, life changing, love filled experience my beautiful
boy gave us, and has been giving them everyday since.
Anna-Marie
