What Mum-Blog isn’t complete with a good ol’ birth story! Don’t worry – I will spare you of the super gory details. I will say straight up, I DID NOT SHIT MYSELF. So, since that’s out of the way, let me tell you about how Jaxxi was brought into the world. When a Mummy and a Daddy love each other very much… I’m kidding. We know how she got in there.
It was a delightful Winter day, on a Tuesday. I had just ticked over to 39 weeks pregnant. Steve was still working FIFO and we were doing a bit of a YOLO because he was still up north in the Pilbara. I felt a little odd and had a feeling things were about to kick off. I gave him a call and said ‘I think you might need to come home now.’ If memory serves correctly, I hadn’t even finished the sentence and he said ‘OK, I’m leaving now.’ Yes, he was very excited about the birth of his first child but he was also VERY happy to be given the excuse to get out of the Pilbara. He was home that night. This is also when I laid eye on his horrendous hair cut he had to get because he lost a bet. Yep, he was going to welcome our daughter into the world with a mullet.
The next day we went shopping for a stove top. This is another YOLO moment. We were renovating our kitchen and it got to a point where we weren’t sure if the kitchen would be done before the baby! Whilst in the store, I kept needing to sit down because my tummy hurt. Reading that back, it clearly indicates contractions. But at the time it didn’t click! A few hours later though, it did click. Things were really starting to hurt. I downloaded my handy-dandy contraction timer app and counted 15 minutes between them. We were at a friends house by then and there I was, casually contracting on their couch. The next bit dragged out so I’ll sum it up quickly. I called the midwife, they said to call back when I got down to 5 mins apart. Eventually they went from 15, to 10, to 7 to 5. AND THEN THEY STOPPED. At 7am the following morning, after a night of pain and no sleep, they stopped.
I called the midwife for an explanation, as if I held her personally responsible! She said it can happen. I felt so deflated. Thankfully (weird to be thankful for pain) they started up again later that day. It was Thursday by this stage. The midwife said I had to wait till they were 3 minutes apart before I could go in. I used ALL the hot water up sitting on the floor of the shower for hours. It helped with the pain, until it ran out. I couldn’t budge past 5 mins apart but I was so tired and in so much pain, we headed to the hospital. The hospital we went to doesn’t exist anymore, so do not fear if you’re pregnant in Perth and going through the public system while reading this. Unfortunately, I was not dilated enough to stay (4cm being the magic number) so I was sent home, sitting in the back of the car, contracting, feeling every single bump on the road.
Two hours later, I was back again. And once more, I was not dilated enough. I begged them to let me stay because I was exhausted. The nurses negotiated a stay over night in the ward (on my own) and a hit of morphine. I remember Steve asking me how the morphine was and all I could muster was a really dopey smile. I managed to get a few minutes sleep between each contraction and was sent home in the morning with a tens machine. The nurse told me how to use it but I disregarded all advice and had that bad-boy on MAX because I was desperate!
It was now Friday. I jumped in the shower again and I had kept my composure up until now. No tears, no screams. I quietly breathed through each contraction and remained calm. But now, it was panic stations. I was in so much pain but I was also so frightened of being sent home for the third time. I yelled for Steve and sobbed. He got my out the shower and back to the hospital we went. Then the angels sang as my midwife said I was four centimeters. DING DING DING! I could stay! Through tears of joy I sobbed ‘Can I please have an epidural now?’.
15 minutes later, I was in a birthing suite, hooked up to the epidural and I felt great. Steve and I looked at each other and said with 100% seriousness, ‘Let’s get a cesarean next time!’ The whole experience of getting to that point made the idea of an organised c-section seem so appealing!
7 hours later, with the help of a vacuum, and 6 pushes, Jaxxi was born at 9.18pm on Friday, 1st August 2014! She had a little Jewish Cap/cone head from the vacuum, so while we were deciding what to name her, she was nicknamed Babs (as in Barbara Streisand). They decided to suck her out quickly because she was getting tired and her heart rate was dropping. I was totally on board with the extra help because I was so tired. I hadn’t slept properly in three days (little did I know I was never going get a good sleep for another 4 months). Steve got pushed aside a little with all the medical staff in the room but luckily our amazing midwife told him to elbow his way back to my side. She was a legendary lady.
By midnight I was showered, walking and on my way to the maternity ward with a new tiny human who I was entirely responsible for. Steve wasn’t allowed to stay, so it was just me and the kid. I laid awake taking one hundred pictures of her as she slept. When I did manage to doze off, I would wake up in a panic to make sure she was still breathing.
Two amazing things came out of the birth of our first child. 1) We had our baby. 2) I could finally sleep on my tummy again and it was AMAZING!