Well.. that fucking hurt.

WARNING: The following contains graphic descriptions of labour and child birth, if your a sensitive soul I'd skip over this blog and check out something a bit less.. icky. I'm serious, this is a BRUTALLY honest version of what went on.. god know's who is going to want to read it but I wanted to have a copy of it just for me for when I am old and senile.

I'm not going to kid myself here and say how I am sure that all of my extensive readers have missed me, I know if I am lucky there's maybe two of you out there who read what I have to say (who are not friends of family)

Because it's just us, I'm going to let it all hang out here and just have a nice casual chat about the first four months of being a parent to the most beautiful little girl ever to grace this earth. So got your cup of tea ready? choccy biscuit? go on you know you want one.. we will wait. Got it? Fab, let's go. I'm going to kick off with this blog about the Labour.. the start of it all.

The LABOUR

I will kick off with a quick explanation about why she was born a couple of weeks early. It was not a choice I made with ease and as much as I will never regret it, I do encourage other women to REALLY research their options before allowing medical involvement.  My body failed me in almost every way in the last month of pregnancy. I got Gestational Diabetes, Carpal Tunnel and Obstetric Cholestasis! we were given a day to get our shit together as the doc was worried and we were being induced! not what we wanted, but we were so lost in the world of medical involvement we just went with what we were told. Hey Ho.

So.. for those of you reading who have yet to feel the joy of child birth, let me tell you... IT FUCKING HURTS! My dear god, why did I get a ton of advice about "breathing techniques" and "kagel exercises" and not a single word about how pushing the child out actually feels like someone is ramming a red hot poker up inside your girl hole and swilling it about a bit!! DEAR GOD it hurts!  Like REALLY hurts, not just OH OW I slammed my finger in a door hurts.. but like REALLY hurts. Just thought I would add that before we go one with the story.

We took a few days to get down to the labour ward, they had to induce me and as it was near Christmas. Apparently a ton of women had elected to get their kids out early as well, but somehow no one informed the midwives that I was a medical inducement so I was not treated well in the before care department. WE had to really chuck a fuss before something was done and I was sent down, but we got there in the end!

The first half of the labour was pretty cool. They had already widened my uterus with the special balloon device in the before care, so down there it was just an injection then an IV with special liquid in it that helps the womb trigger to give birth. We were so hyped up and excited, but also scared and anxious. Hubby was a total nervous wreck, fussing about not knowing what to do with himself (bless)  but I just bounced away on the giant ball with wires up my twat and clamps on my belly, happily sucking on the gas pipe.

Other thing no one told me? how COOL the gas is! Hubby and I were in hysterics as I sucked away on the tube while the midwife was out of the room. It makes your voice go really deep for a moment so of course I  giggling and breathing out "I'm Batman" to which both of us cackled away, trying quickly to calm down when the midwife came back in the room. I sat there bouncing, happy as can be thinking "This is a piece of piss, the contractions aren't that bad...."

Ow....

It took about an hour before I realised what pain actually feels like.

It was the second half that I'm not so fond of, and am trying hard to really recall clearly. I remember climbing up onto the bed and lying on my side, I remember throwing up a lot, I remember being offered something harder but rejecting it and I remember falling asleep, after that I kind of vagued in an out of sleep for awhile. I remember this feeling of woozy unreality as Chris gripped my hand and encouraged me to keep going. I think I may have even fallen asleep for a decent amount of time at one point, though the whole labour went from 11am til she was born at 6.30pm so I can't have slept for long.  It all became a kind of haze of pushing and pain and breathing and people giving me instructions and hubby squeezing my hand and telling me what was going on.

This is where it started to get a little bit scary...

When it got down to crunch time, shit started to hit the fan.. it was here my hubby said was the worst/scariest moment of his life. He tried to get out of the way, as he was right in the line of sight for what was going on in the lady area but I would not let him move (apparently) ... now what I am about to tell you is what I was told, I was in a total stupor of breath in gas, breathe out the amazing fucking pain..

Baby's heart slowed right down and so did mine, according to what I was told we were both in real danger. The midwife asked to cut me (I remember this) and I said no, I was so against it but had no idea what was going on, see.. babies cord had wrapped around her neck! every time I pushed she was being strangled, they needed her out and fast! Midwife and hubby shared a kind of nod and they cut anyway. Which is what hubby and I had agreed on before going into birth, so please don't start kicking off about "LABOUR RAPE" or some other such nonsense.  We were well informed and well looked after all the way during the labour and too this day, I thank fuck that we had a great team helping her come into the world.

Right, so where were we... I was lying there in pain that I have never felt before, baby is almost on the verge of death and I've been cut and hubby is freaking out being able to see everything he did not want to see. Good, OK, so here is the one part of the whole thing I remember REALLY bloody well, and also the one part that will forever make me realise that women are so much stronger than men....It was the final push, that moment that I knew I had to give it one last go. I was EXHAUSTED beyond EXHAUSTED, seriously, never in my life had I been this worn out. I actually BEGGED my husband to make me not have to go through this, I had tears streaming down my face as he bent down gripping my hand and just told me I could do it.. I took a huge breath and pushed hard, like really hard, I don't think I made much noise, I recall a kind of low pitched primal grunting mother earth feel the power rush through me type scream thing, but I am sure my hubby will say it sounded like something a lot less ethereal and a lot more like a cow being skinned...AND then with an almighty SQUELCH that I liken the feeling as a big ass octopus being pulled out of my vagina....

SHE ARRIVED!

Love at first sight exists you know. I've seen it with my own eyes. A tiny pink, white and red being appeared on my chest and I was instantly in love. She was so ugly, but so beautiful all at the same time. Tiny eyes closed and little hands flailing in the air, she fell asleep on my chest almost immediately as I placed a hand on her back and bum and wept openly chanting at my hubby "look what we did..look what we did.." to which he also crying said "It's a baby..."

Meanwhile back down at my lady parts..

I was bleeding to death! There is simply no way I can tell you first hand what went on down there, apparently the doctor had his hand far up there and doing his best to stop the bleeding and pumping my uterus to get it to contract and allow the blood time to settle. I was being stitched, injected with things and given blood transfusions..saving my life and all that..hubby was watching freaking out, admiring his new baby but fretting for his wife.

I had entered bliss baby zone and there was no coming out of that one.

People did tell me that you go all gooey when you see your child, but no one explained the combination of doped up (gas only I hasten to add, I fucking rock in that department) exhaustion and total and utter immersion in sheer joy... she was utterly perfect. Slimy and white, coated in this weird viscous that I kept freaking out was not right. I believe I even asked the midwife if something was wrong with her to which I was politely told it was normal and perfectly OK. My hubby bent over to me and smiled stroking her head I looked up at him and just as I was about to say "Matilda" he said "Abigail" so I let it go and we decided on Abigail Matilda (well actually we initially decided on his mum's sisters name but did not like the bad omen it brought with it so changed it later) She was then weighed and checked over while they finished sewing me up and mopping up the blood, I do remember looking over at her being weighed and seeing this mound of blood soaked towels going past as they cleaned up around us. In amongst it all I remember getting an injection to sort out the placenta, I'm not even sure if it was easy to push out or not, I was so tired.

 7 pounds 2 ounces of awesome!

As they wrapped her up I was given clean clothes. I remember one of the nurses asking if I wanted to keep my night dress. I'd bought myself a cheap one for the birth and I am seriously glad I did, it was coated in blood and god know's what else! I told em to chuck it, but part of me wishes I had kept it, but it just seemed to fall in that category of women who enjoy keeping the placenta for some weird art project.

I am trying to write this from my own memory and what hubby told me straight after, I did not want to get his input before writing this out but I have a memory of being shown the placenta and thinking it was disgusting... but I could be wrong.

Afterwards we were wheeled away into a recovery area. I remember the nurse and hubby constantly poking me to keep me awake, I was exhausted and empty of blood. They got me sandwiches and tea and I remember trying to keep them down but I was so tired... she was here and I was done! that was all that I kept thinking... it was time for some rest.

You can tell I'm exhausted, look at the weird crap I dressed her in!

I'd done it. I had really truly done it, I'd made it through the hell! I'd spent the last 9 months freaking out that this was going to be beyond me and I would never manage it and we were going to have to cut her out, but I did it... I was FUCKING WONDER WOMAN BITCHES.

Apologies

Many apologies for not posting for some time, I have developed Carpal Tunnel through my pregnancy and have trouble writing more than a few lines at a time :(

Few more weeks and my baby girl will arrive, then we can get back to blogging!

Love life and love yourselves! cause no one does it better than you!

the last world rpg

Hubby and I have been working to create a place for people to role play in a limitless world! check if out if your a keen geek!

the last world rpg:

'via Blog this'

Stepford Mums....

I used to have brains, I used to be smart and talented at different arty type things, I used to enjoy gaming and having long conversations over coffee or beer about the state of the world. All nighters were pulled just creating characters for table top games, or reading a good book. I used to have friends, I used to be independent and sexy, experimental and lithe.

Now your lucky if you can get me to say up past 10pm.... tea has to be decaffeinated, I watch everything I put in my mouth and most of my thoughts are taken up with the nights meal, or budgeting and planning for our growing bump.

That is of course if I can even remember the way to the bloody shops...AS today dear reader I wish to talk about.. BABY BRAIN that undetermined spark in your brain that helps you to recall your first boyfriends name, your old car's licence plate or even your shopping list.. totally gone.. lucky now if you can remember to buy milk that day.

It's mental! and FRUSTRATING AS HELL!

I feel like someone has slipped me a roofie, my mind feels fuzzy and all over the place, easily distracted by shiny things (OK nothing new there) and just not up to the same smart and slick standards I am used too. I arrive at the local food shop and stand staring at the aisles trying to recall why I am there.

Is this preparation for sleepless nights? Is this why women suddenly become mindless zombies that can speak of nothing but their children's poohing habits after giving birth? Is it simply further proof that god truly is a man as he is creating mindless zombies to procreate the world and live in happy communal suburbs where we all yell at the local children and call the police on the neighbour who allows his dog to pooh on our lawn?

I find myself having conversations with dear friends, people I used to get blasted with and party hard, people who used to stay up all night discussing the debate on abortion, or the state of the local government (OK we were mostly arguing bout which character could take down Brett Hart)  that are now about which suburb has the best schooling with public transport nearby?!

It's a conspiracy... I can feel it... its the government feeding us, these scans we get when we have our children inject some kind of NHS/Medicare funded rayon dye that feeds our depleting brain cells and makes us think we are unable to raise children outside of a 4 bedroom home with a Volvo and a good yard.. I know it is, we are all being turned into the politicians views of perfect wives and mothers...

Stepford Wives 1975 

I refuse to be taken down!!!! I WILL FIGHT I will turn away from the corn patterned blinds and read our toddler Shakespeare and Neil Gaiman comics, trade the Volvo in for that Chevy Impaler, dress our little boy in pink and your little girl in blue! I REFUSE to be sucked in by this mechanising attitude of mothering that is pumped at me from every corner of the internet. NO ONE WILL DICTATE TO ME.......NO ONE.... nope... not... a .... ooh.... cute.....batman... baby shoes...... oh darling..... oh oh oh.......want.... oh... gush...

I am a goner... may as well just accept it and buy an apron....

http://www.bethanysewandsew.com/p/superheroes.html

PREGNANT HULK SMASH!

I pride myself on having a strong side, a side that lurches out and explodes through to battle for those who are being treated unjustly! It's a side I like and my husband likes, he often refers to it as MADDIE HULK SMASH and we have a laugh...

Now having said that and hopefully given you the vague idea that I am at most a fairly rational person, who has a good filter, know's when to keep her mouth shut and when to be humble and also knows when to stand up for her own rights, a good balance that can be sometimes altered with a hit of depression but overall fairly well put together.

Having pre-empted my blog with the previous, I am going to speak today about.. pregnancy hormones... Yes, those niggly sparks in the brain that, if you pay attention to ROM COM's, are simply you weeping a little bit more, or being a little bit more sensitive about your weight, but still overall a good happy girl who is bright and cheery while she carries her blessed child.

HAH well I have a story to tell that shows you that these hormones are a hella lot worse than you think!

Once again dear ladies we have been mislead, see the pregnancy hormones do at times turn you into that weeping mess of a woman who cries because she has run out of milk or misses her family, but they also provide you with a lovely healthy bout of angry at husband all the time, scream and yell at innocent sales assistants, rant and rave at stupid phone sales people, screaming at neighbours who won't put the bins back.... and best of all a strong desire to smack your husband in the face... which.. I did!

He is amazing, I will tell you that now, I have never in my life and this includes my father and all men in my family, met a man who is so patient and so able to put up with anything I throw at him. Maybe its love, maybe its the way he was raised, maybe its both! but he is amazing and I adore him with all my heart and soul...

It was all very innocent, we were play fighting in the kitchen and waiting for tea to cook, when he made a remark (wish I could recall what it was) but it pissed me off so much and upset me so much that I reached right up and...I slapped him!!!. Did not mean too hurt him, did not intentionally hit him, it was just a reflex... luckily I did not HURT him in any great way, but man was he shocked, almost as much as I was, but then I burst out laughing seconds after I did it... hormones..

Luckily for me he understands and forgives me, but I am still copping constant joking comments about how he is an abused spouse blah blah, he talks lots actually really gets on my fucking nerves.... maybe I should just hit him again....

HULK SMASH!
photo courtesy of  http://wagnerf.deviantart.com/

"I'm sorry Madam, you're far to fat to have a baby, please leave our store!"

Sometimes I wish designers would just come right out and say it.

There would be a Pretty Woman moment as I slink out the shop with my fat boobs sagging and my jowls wobbling as I mumble "oh but I have money....." least then I would know where I stood and not be attracted to the bright shiny shop and the happy smiles of the assistants in those big bright corners of glamorous racks style... drawn to them like a moth.. a sad demented.. deluded moth...

It starts the same way as entering any shop when your a big girl. You pretend not to notice the staff as they glance away unsure how to deal with that weird bulge at the front of your jeans, whispers cross the room as they raise their red tinged nails to their plump freshly lipsticked gaunt cheeks and mock your weight and style.


Yet you ignore them, stick out your big titties and stride, ever so jubilantly up to the glowing racks of funky, hip mum to be clothing for the young pregnant woman who wants to remain hot for her man. Cause deep down you know your a MILF. You begin flipping...sliding the coat hangers one by one down the pristine rail as top after top of glorious colours and patterns dance in front of you, humming the Hippo Dance theme from Fantasia. 


Your face lighting up and fading as each size tag reflects that of  an 8 year old child if it has been starved for a year. Slowly your ego begins to deflate, you clutch your slowly growing belly as you realise that this shop has nothing for you..... everything goes up to a size 14 nothing higher.. even then its an Asian child's bound waist 14 not a proper Aussie chick fed up on meat and three veg kind of 14.


That's when it begins to dawn on you... it almost whispers through the gilded mirrors like your own personal Snow White moment. whispering the truth "You're not the fairest of them all.. but fattest oh yes" gulping down that burgeoning hormonal surge of shame and sadness, you feel tears pricking the edge of your eyes as you quickly grab your husband and dash out of the store mumbling a reply as he asks loudly "Nothing you like hon?" 

I learnt a long time ago that a big girl in this world will always have trouble looking the way she would like, be it fashion trends or alternative ones, its always hard to find anything over a 14. Sadly I deluded myself into believing that Maternity would be one area that we would be slightly more accepted... wasn't I ridiculously stupid!

Even stores like Evans, that cater for us overweight girls do not have a maternity section, is it so Taboo.. so shameful to think that big girls get married and have sex? that we would dare choose to... (whisper) procreate?

If I ever won lotto, I would create a chain of stores catering to big girls of all walks of life and include, maternity and bridal wear in the line.. at a cost that everyone can afford.

A little bit of how fab us big girls can be!
 Courtesy of Daily Mail article

Ow...ow..ow...OW!

The Physical...


It's funny when you watch TV or films and admire the perfect happy glow and general hum of well being as the pregnant mother scoots through her pregnancy with bliss...Its a conspiracy to get you to knocked up..

No one tells you about the nasty ass smells that issue from your butt or the immense pain as your lower body begins to shift to accommodate your growing Jelly Bean. None of this is shared with you as you try hard with your partner to get pregnant, often getting to the stage where sex is simply a way to inseminate rather than actually enjoy oh no.. but they do tell you THE MOMENT YOU GET PREGNANT! ? wtf is that about!

Well for me they did, unless you are perhaps one of those obsessive mothers who planned and read every book available before they even get bloody pregnant. Even then most of the books I have read are so embroiled in "bliss and joy" that your not given an entire chapter of "Try to avoid these foods unless you want to issue forth a rip roaring fart that causes all in the vicinity to run a mile from you"

I tried to pick up a couple of books that I thought would be a tad more down to earth and realistic, but even they are just hippy filled love fests about green tea and how to give up pot in several easy steps or what kind of tops to wear to accommodate your lack of bra while your boobs swell.... yeah pass.

I have been told there are books out there telling you about the harsh realities of pregnancy and I am sure if I wanted to spend another £50 on them I would.. but I can't be bothered any more, if I want info I can just look it up on-line.. or download the app which is currently informing me that my child is a Lemon.. or the size of a lemon.

 Even friends who had had children failed to tell me any of these realities until after I got pregnant, it was simply a flood of warnings and information that had me running to hide under the covers and seriously reconsidering if this child was worth having or not!

Course on top of all the back pain, headaches, desire to vomit every time I walk past the kitty litter and general need to throttle my husband as my hormones see his face and want to punch it.. I am EXHAUSTED! I thank god in many ways that I lost my job when I got pregnant cause I could not fathom working while dealing with all this and am amazed at woman who do it! They are the true Wonder Women of the world, let alone mothers who work after bubs is born!

The Emotional....


Now while dealing with all of these aches and pains I have to cope with the heavy weight on my chest.

I have issue forth my own warning to pregnant mummies who may be reading this.. DO NOT GET THE NUCHAL DOWNS TEST! I regret it more than anything I have done in my life! Why? read on...

The Test...

Being our first child we arrived at the 14 week Ultra sound appointment with rosy cheeks and bright eyes, excited to see Jelly Bean in all their glory up on the grainy screen. Expecting tears and emotional sobs of joy..

We were called aside into a quiet back room that vaguely reminded me of visiting area in a psych ward and offered the test, being advised that its only for parents who wish to know everything about their child's growth and well being.. well how could we say no!? we were then taken to the small room and had my pants yanked down exposing my forgotten winter unshaven area as a grumpy nurse shoved paper towels down my pants and up my top my white whale flab out and exposed as my husband sat next to me grinning.

The Doctor lead in with big smiles informing me that the student would be having the first go (excuse moi?) and was that ok.. I nodded and shrugged..as the student spluttered warmed jelly across my whale belly and began poking around looking for my child. I was beginning to worry there was nothing there as she dug around, pulling my flab of fat up and aside smiling at me as if to say "It would be so much easier if you were not a big heifer" after her finally finding my child and my husband squeezing my hand I realised I was totally unemotional about it.. it looked like a grainy Jelly Bean looking across at my husband I could see he was feeling much the same way so I got a fit of the giggles.. well then the doctor had to come in and take over as we were doing "THE TEST" after 10 minutes of poking and telling me that bubs was in the wrong position we had to go away and drink more to get the bladder fuller. We were allowed back and on the table for the 4th go, by now ready to just walk out on all this.

I was totally exhausted and my bladder was so full that as she pushed down on it I thought I was gong to piss the table. And still nothing, she could not get the measurement, so we were sent home to come back the next day, more time off work for husband and more annoyance for us. Back the next day we seemed to have a slightly more competent Doctor who managed after a few goes to get what she hoped was the right measurement (they measure fluid on the baby's neck) we were lead back into the waiting room and left there for about half an hour as they "conferred" over the results. Finally I was taken for a blood test and it was all done and off we went to get food, starving hungry as we were.

The results...


The week we got the results was the week my husband was away for work, totally forgetting the test I got a letter in the mail and opened it up to find that we were being told we were in a higher percentage of having Downs.

I was in shock... total shock.. I burst into tears completely freaking out "MY CHILD WAS DOOMED" and many other death filled moments of pain and upset flooded my brain as I ran to phone my husband who of course being miles away freaked out on his own but had no one around him.

 I then went into my usual safe zone of RESEARCH, RESEARCH, RESEARCH and discovered that I had no idea what percentage we were and maybe that would help me feel better....oh brain why do you despise me.. So I phoned the midwife and was highly advised to not worry about it, but pushed and pushed until we were informed that we were 1 in 5 chance of our baby having Downs.. oh dear god... its worse than I thought.. brain melt down total freak out hide under covers fuck fuck universe is taking my baby away.. and well all the usual over reactions of someone who suffers from major depression issues. My brain was screaming at me "YOU CAN'T COPE WITH A DOWNS CHILD! YOUR GOING TO HAVE TO KILL IT!" tears streaming down my face.. no hope..

I then bucked up and contacted all my girlfriends with babies and spoke to them, getting counsel and support for everything as well as hearing experiences, all helped me to calm the fuck down and realise we could do this, that it was still my baby and that all would be fine! We could get help for downs.. it was all fine.. fine fine! RELAX WOMAN!

A week later sombre and frightened with lack of sleep and worry lines developing in areas they should not develop we headed back to the hospital hands clasped in fear and worry. Research on the CVS test running through my head "MISCARRIAGE!" screaming around in there like a rat on a cheese wheel. Once again we were taken to the "special room" and advised about how the test would work and what to expect etc.. the fucking midwife basically forced me to rethink the CVS by telling me "Are you sure you want the higher risk test, what if you lost your baby and then found out it was healthy?" oh well I would be fine.. no really.. FUCKS SAKE! so I cried, freaked out, worried, stressed.. what to do what to do.. and went ahead with it. Mostly because we were told that we would get a confirmation either way on the Downs by the next day, so I knew I would not have long to wait and could ease the stress.

Sometimes, when you suffer from mental illness if you have a chance to ease the worry and anxiety you take it to the death of all other things, if only to give yourself a moment of rest from the millions of voices in your head that freak you out and turn you into a gibbering puddle of custard.. mm custard.

And of course... knowing our delightful child.. they could not do the bloody test, (this coming on top of my pubic hair getting caught in the paper as the nurse tucked paper down there.. oh dear god) I mean I love how active my kid is and I love that it desires nothing but to squirm and worm around inside me.. but STAY FUCKING STILL FOR TESTS CHILD! but nope, utter refusal and we were sent away told the following reasons why they could not do the CVS test...

• Your too overweight
• Bubs won't stay still
• Your uterus is to far down (WTF?)

Oh and a little pearler from the Doc just as I was wiping the mass of goop off my belly "I can see, just from looking that the neck measurement has not gone down!" Oh well we should just not worry about having any test as obviously cause you can SEE that the neck has not gone down we should just give up now. I may add here that when I informed the doctor that we would NOT be aborting if the child had downs, I got a "oh really....." face of judgement. Right love, so pleased to know what you really think of Downs sufferers. Also adding that cause of my baby being small, my uterus being low etc we now had to wait til after my 16th week (2 weeks from then) for the Amnio test.

So now.. my patient readers if you have made it to the end of this rant sorry post then keep reading this space as we now have 9 days to go til we get the test and can either begin to prepare for a disabled child or prepare for.. a healthy one... that is of course if the stress of all this crap does not make me fucking miscarriage!

Patience is a virtue.. if only I possessed it...

Ciao for now

Something to think about..

A second for awesome:

IRON BABY. by Patrick Boivin. 

A little bit of Batgirl with Harley as a guest star

Batgirl Adventures #1(February 1998), courtesy of Paul Dini and Rick Burchett.

Greetings... and SALUTATIONS!

My god, I can not believe I am actually bloody pregnant! For those of you who just joined us I am currently 15 weeks pregnant.. which of course being that I am overweight you can not see on my physically but ho boy can you see it emotionally!

Dear readers (always wanted to say that) I am a manic depressive, overweight 32 year old stuck in a freezing bloody cold country (pretty as it is) who is pregnant for the first time and totally petrified! why? because of everything I am being told. According to all my overly extensive, can't put the computer down, reading I have done, I should have either lost or chosen to terminate my child by now as I am simply not up to being pregnant!

WHY?... well because..

I am too old

I am too fat

and

I am too mentally unstable

How dare I get pregnant at all!

But please, do not be put off from reading my blog by thinking that I will simply spend most of it whining and moaning about "Societies mistreatment of overweight women" or "The perils of the NHS" this will be a mixture of all of that, blended with a bit of love and excitement ;)

Cause, through all of the loneliness, the fear and the looming PND this tiny little Jelly Bean is rather wanted..

SO join me in my crusade and keep reading...

Your little bit of Batgirl

Unsure where this is from!

My current favourite thing:

Thanks to ToxicPretty from their DeviantArt

And finally a  moment of AWWW

Thanks to Innocent English.Com