The second week of Channel 4’s One Born Every Minute focuses on pain. Seeing as my labour was a rather short affair I’m not too sure I’m best qualified to comment on the subject but I’ll give it a go.

A visit to the maternity assessment centre at Lincoln County Hospital enlightened me to the fact that despite only mild aching I was almost fully dilated and apparently had ‘done the hard work’ whatever that meant. I was immediately given an epidural as I was booked for an elective caesarean so they figured they’d do one at 34 weeks. However soon after it was decided that in order to give Boo the best possible chance I was going to give this birthing lark a bang. I’d attended no antenatal classes due to the booked caesarean and choosing to bottle feed, as my midwife said it was full of woman panting and discussing best latch techniques (I suppose I’ll never know now!).

The epidural was painless and the rest of the labour was although tense due to Boo being 6 weeks early, was completely pain free. Afterwards I was up and running around within 90 minutes of Boo being born – however I have to attribute some of my energetic nature to being told that once I could walk around I could visit Boo up in the Neonatal Unit.

Although pain free, the midwife and anaesthetist took great care to ensure that I was still able to feel the contractions which allowed me to initiate pushing, keeping me in control throughout.

Whilst my birth was positive in relation to pain, my pregnancy was another story. From the 24 week stage I was in what can only be described as agony. The professionals put it down to me being an ‘anxious’ first timer – yet on reflection Doctors now say that I was probably in early labour for 10 weeks! This would explain why I felt there was a chainsaw doing the can-can inside me for nearly three months!

Proof that the chainsaw aka baby accompanied me to visit Danny in Cyprus!

There are some women who feel a sense of guilt if they have pain relief. For somebody who was booked for an elective caesarean, I find this utterly ridiculous. I took the advice from the Doctors who had not only my health but that of Boo’s in mind. There is no prize for going cold turkey on the gas and air and it doesn’t make you a failure if you take every drug going. That’s not to say that no pain relief or alternative options aren’t for everybody. Pregnancy and in particular birth are personal and different for each woman – there is no mould or ‘perfect’ so let’s stop trying to find it!

The birth was a physical relief for me, as I will say now I never enjoyed being pregnant, choosing rather to view it as a means to an end – which in fact as I’m understanding now is only the beginning! Birth for me gave me the greatest gift of all, Boo. So why would it define me or the relationship between Mummy and Boo.

Duvets at the ready – it’s official Mummy and Boo have come down with the lurge. Ok so it may not be as bad as that. Yet a common cold is still enough to stop us in our tracks.

Seeing Boo ill is so hard as she’s unable (knowing her though probably more like unwilling) to understand why she’s feeling ill.  For me this is the one of the hardest colds I’ve ever had. Gone are the days of retreating to your bedroom as if it’s your secret lair armed with tissues, Lucozade and the remote control.  Boo’s routine knows no boundaries, the small matter of feeling like death defrosting isn’t going to change things.

For the last couple of days Boo and I have been soldiering on with the school run, preparing mammoth dinners and generally ensuring my title of Cruella is well and truly deserved!

Boo takes to illness like a pro not to mention maintaining lashings of glamour as demonstrated by her ‘poorly’ pose, but then again she’s had plenty of practice when it comes to patient etiquette. Although she’s had paracetamol suspension at night, I’ve been careful to try and only give it when absolutely necessary.

Boo has informed me through pester power aka hollering that hugs and kisses really are the best medicine for her cold; I have to agree with her. For babies the common cold is largely harmless although this can bring little comfort to patient and often anxious parents, when dealing with a temperature, sniffles and downright feelings of lousiness.

So while Boo and I seek sanctuary upstairs seeing as Necky has nabbed the sofa, ahem… What do you find works best for Baby colds? Do you have any ‘magic’ answers? (Well you can’t blame a Mummy for wishing!)

Must dash, Boo is ringing the bell for me to dab her forehead with a lavender infused wet flannel. Good Boo!

 

A Mummy Too asked the magic if a little impossible question: What are you three favourite books? The three books are divided into childhood, adulthood and parenthood.

Books have always been part of my life – I’ll read the back of a bottle of shampoo just to devour a few extra words.  I’m amazingly fortunate to come from a family where the joy of reading was at the centre of our home.  It was never a case of being made to read, we would willingly pick up a book. 

An abiding memory of my childhood is being caught with a torch reading under the covers long after I was suppose to turn the light out on a school night!

My love of reading has grown with me so much so that a mini library is increasingly becoming a ‘must’ in our hunt for a Brady bunch bunker!

I can’t help but be suspicious of people who say they either don’t read or worse – don’t see the point.  Of course reading brings you knowledge, not to mention religion and reference but more importantly sometimes there is no point, I seek those solitary afternoons where your mind doesn’t look for direction instead gets lost in layer upon layer of words and imagination – pure bliss.

Enough of me fawning over manicured and inked paper – Here are my #3 Books

Childhood

Favourite one or one hundred? This is the hardest of them all – I’ll go as far to say that the books I read defined my childhood. If nothing else they were my conversation starters, so the chatty me is down to the book silk worm as a child!

The Secret Garden by Francis Hodgson Burnett.  It’s an old fashioned, solid children’s book full of drama and suspense.  It’s the first time I can remember being reluctant to watch the resulting film in case it somehow did a disservice to the author, especially as it was written in the early part of the 20^th Century. Whether you are eight or eighty there is room on your bookshelf and more importantly your heart for The Secret Garden.

Adulthood

I’m sticking my neck out with this one but Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood.  This was the first book I read by Atwood and it took me to read all of her other novels before I could return to this one and make some sense of it.  The darkness and perpetual complexity even awkwardness of the story line and characters makes it more than a book. It’s a challenge and for someone who doesn’t like to be beaten, this is the best kind. It’s not everybody’s cup of tea in fact it’s fair to say that it is a fringe book. I never did like being a sheep so why would it be any different when it came to reading.

 

Parenthood

This part is pretty easy. Whilst Boo enjoyed being read to in the womb – yes I was that crazy pregnant woman talking to my bump at the airport in the hope of trying to narrow down our choice for the plane! She has been slow on the uptake since existing independently; I mean surely she is behind if she hasn’t made a dent in Shakespeare’s greatest by the time she turns one?

Baby’s Very First Touchy Feely Animal Book. It does exactly what it says, yet the real beauty is that even at such a young age there is way for Mummy and Boo to connect through reading.  I am so looking forward to bedtime reading together, and this book allows the seeds to be sown for a lifetime of reading.

 

So there you have my #3 Books. You can tell a great deal of a person by the book they’re reading, so goodness knows what my choices make me.  Even now I’m fighting the urge to go back and change my adulthood choice. What are your three books? If you’re not a parent then why not your favourite childhood, classic and modern?

Despite it being the middle of the night, I am a renewed addict so am off to bed to ready by light of my blackberry a chic lit given to me at Christmas.  Happy Reading.

P.S. Is it too late to mention Rebecca or The Time Travellers Wife or Frankenstein?!?!….

To coincide with the new series of Channel 4’s One Born Every Minute -4^th January 9pm, people have been asked to share their stories on the role of Dads at the birth, their presence even.  Here is our experience.

 

Patience is always something I’ve never had time for, yet I never imagined that I would go into premature labour and give birth to Boo at only 34 weeks pregnant.  The day I went into labour was to me just another ‘boring’ day pregnant, where I was becoming increasingly bigger and found it harder to nip about.  My partner Danny was away in Cyprus with the army on a six month tour, so the closest I got to manly support was motivational Skype conversations which often descended into either a nagging fest or a tear bath – both on my part.  Due to complications with me I was booked for a caesarean while Danny would be back in the UK on R&R; perfect planning for a complete control freak like me.

For the previous 10 weeks I had complained of extreme back ache and generally feeling that something wasn’t ‘quite right’.  I was assured everything was indeed fine and that I was just panicking which was to be expected with a first baby.

After an arduous afternoon of DIY, I settled down on the sofa to give this whole pregnancy napping lark a go.  A couple of hours later I waddled to the toilet and discovered blood everywhere. I’ll be honest my first thought was that I had lost the baby. Despite this I felt immensely calm and phoned the assessment centre at Lincoln County Hospital.  The midwife advised me to pack an overnight bag and go in.  As I was packing I phoned Danny in Cyprus to tell him what was going on. At this stage premature labour was the last thing on our minds so he just reassured me that everything was fine and that if I needed to talk I only had to call.

Once in the hospital, I became restless waiting to see a doctor and had convinced myself everything was ok as I had felt the baby kick.  An hour later I started to get period like pains and asked for a drink, a few minutes later the doctor arrived, examined me and informed me that I was 9cm dilated and that she could see the head!

All throughout my pregnancy I had been resolute that Danny would be present at the birth, and if for whatever reason he wasn’t I would never forgive him. Yet the following hours all I could think about was the next time I saw him, our beautiful baby girl would be in my arms.  It was at this point that I was introduced to a paediatrician to talk about complications with a premature baby, and in particular without the labouring of the aby though the birth canal.  After frantic discussions we agreed that under heavy supervision I would attempt to labour naturally to give Boo the best possible chance.

The day Danny went on tour he gave me a credit card sized contact card for JCCC – The Joint Casualty and Compassionate Centre, ‘just in case’. Whilst the anaesthetist was administering the epidural I was stating my case to a total stranger on the telephone why Danny should be returned to the UK on compassionate leave.  I’ll be honest it was hard work and I probably owe the gentleman I spoke to an apology as my temper was in short supply that night!

After a nail bitingly anxious twenty minute wait, I received the news that Danny would be flying back from Cyprus on the next available flight.  Elated that he was coming home I looked to my midwife – Anne for the reassuring nod that he would be there for the birth.  Instead she told me that there was no way that Boo was waiting for anything even her Daddy!

I was crushed. I asked for a few moments alone and privately sobbed – this isn’t how I imagined welcoming our daughter into the world. I soon pulled myself together and got on with the task in hand – getting this baby out!

Boo was born at 7.23 on Sunday 24^th July 2011.  At which point Danny was in the air, and I had my Mother who had managed to make it up from London in time.  We were so lucky that Boo was all in all a healthy beautiful baby; although after only a few minutes together she was taken up to Neonatal Intensive Care due to her prematurity.  It was this point that I found hardest without Danny being there – we had together made her and I felt like we should be there to care for her and with me just having given birth, it seemed only natural that he would have gone with her so she wasn’t alone.

Danny met Boo just after 2pm on the Sunday afternoon after being driven from RAF Brize Norton straight to the hospital by the Army.  Never have I been so happy to see him, or so proud to show him our achievement – the fruits of my labour!! Yes I gave birth to Boo and isn’t she perfect.

So the question remains. Does the father being absent from the birth have a profound effect on bonding with the bay and the relationship between parents afterwards?  For us, the circumstance were so that it wasn’t physically possible, I kept Danny in my mind throughout the whole labour and in some ways him not being there was positive as it allowed me to stay focused even when I was petrified.

My advice: you can have the best plans, but in the end childbirth is something that cannot be slotted into a busy schedule no matter how hard you try.  Even if the father can’t be present, remember why you’re having a child and the love you have for each other – anyway they can always make it up to you later!