I want to remember.
That you were that small and that I was that strong.
I want to remember that we were so young when you came along.
I want to remember that there was so much love for you within that room.
I want to remember the look on my face when I met you.
“Could you film the day I go to hospital”?
It’s not the type of thing you hear everyday and depending on the person you ask, it’s not the type of thing that everyone would want to do. But this was the request I asked my brother when I handed him my camera a few days before the birth.
To be clear, I wasn’t wanting him to document the birth (there’s nothing wrong with birth videos by the way) I simply wanted him to capture the moments either side of what was to be a pretty momentous day made all the more special for the significance it held to this time last year.
This time I got to finish the nursery. This time I got to pack my bag and pick my sons first outfit. This time I got to bring my baby home so this time I would capture these moments to cherish forever because this time I had just that…TIME.
This is my keepsake for Costa (and for me ;-)…
The Birth Story
For those of you wanting to read on for a birth story it went a little something like this:
When I pictured myself being pregnant I never gave much thought to being induced but losing Penny changed all that.
I was closely monitored by the hospital throughout this pregnancy and given my past experience (I lost Penny at 39 weeks) I was offered an induction at 38 weeks which I chose to accept.
My rational mind knew that an induction could take several days, but ever the optimist I clung to the hope that I might have a baby in my arms by the evening. I should have been more rational.
/ Friday March 4th 2016
I arrived at hospital at 8am calm, relaxed, excited and ready to be induced but it would take all day and most of that night for me to feel anything.
Unfortunately visitors weren’t permitted overnight so when Joe left it was typical that I’d start to feel contractions. So much so that I wasn’t able to sleep.
/ Saturday March 5th 2016
By the morning I was sore and sleep-deprived only I hadn’t progressed enough to make it to the delivery suite so there I stayed.
By late afternoon I was to put it kindly, in a bit of a state. My contractions were ridiculously intense and I wasn’t keeping it together very well, actually my composure had all but left me which doesn’t bode well when sharing a room with 4 other women who weren’t as far along in their labours.
Clearly that didn’t go unnoticed and I was transferred to my own room where I could manage the pain in privacy, or should that be ‘lose the plot‘ in privacy.
I’d given up on Equinox (gas), it took me back to a place that I’d rather not go so hot showers and deep breathing was all I could do to manage the pain.
By 6pm my dignity and patience had all but flown out the window. Feeling like I was surely ‘there‘ only to realise that I had not progressed enough was excruciatingly frustrating.
At this point, I was spent. If there was a chance I’d be pushing I had no energy to do it. Nada. Zilch. I had reached the peak of my pain threshold and was stupidly letting my mind be drawn to negativity.
At one point I think I remember saying out loud ‘I can’t do this!‘ I could slap myself now for saying that.
I’d used up all my energy to the point where I was shaking quite a bit so it felt like all my prayers had been answered when at 8pm I was finally taken to the delivery suite.
I’ve only been rescued once in my life, when I was little I foolishly paddled into a rip. Being in the delivery suite at that moment strangely felt like being rescued.
I know people have very strong opinions on pain relief but each to their own and for a multitude of reasons it was at this point that I was glad to have an epidural.
For the first time in nearly 20 hours I felt the pain dissipate and my strength and rational mind came flooding back. For once I could quit telling myself something was bound to go wrong and shift my focus to the only thing that really mattered. My son and bringing him into the world safely.
Over the next 12 hours I would know what it felt like to sleep. Even if it was broken by bright lights and nurses it was still sleep. I could recharge.
/ Sunday March 6th 2016
My babies heart rate was monitored throughout the night so it was a bit nerve wracking when at one point in the morning his heart rate dropped. Had I not progressed to the point where I could push a c-section would have been the next step but I was finally where I needed to be and could start pushing.
Given that I’d spent two days getting to this point it was a bit of a relief to spend all of 10 minutes pushing. Clearly we were both ready to meet one another.
And so, at 10.10am on Sunday March 6 2016 Costa Alexander Te Paa was born happy healthy and with a great set of lungs.
It was in that moment, with his little heart resting on mine that the effort it took to get him here was quickly forgotten because all I saw was him and all I felt was love.