Firstly, many congratulations to Mrs H-C, on the birth of her gorgeous daughter. I look forward to meeting her and also hearing, "the birth story".
Birth stories are a weakness of mine, and as they get repeated frequently at drunken girly gatherings I am guessing I'm not alone. After the birth of FBS I prouldly related my birth story, (to anyone who'd listen) like a soldier retuning injured from the war. I didn't hold back. The other 3 women on the four bed ward where i ended up for three nights must have been pig sick of hearing it. In fact in hindsight this is perhaps the reason I got moved to my own room for the last 2 nights! The stuff the doctors don't tell you and you're too afraid to ask - I told. In hindsight it's a wonder so many of my friends and family have actually gone on to have kids! An elderly relative told me (a bit too late!) that aparently this stuff is not supposed to be shared with your friends,o not to scare them unnecessarily, (whoops!)
FBS' s birth you see was everything i'd feared and more. My labour was long..days long. It was probably the most traumatic, scary, painful thing I have ever been through. I'm sure you are pleased to hear (especially those friends who have heared this story first hand) that I will not be going into the gory details here. Suffice to say it involved drips, epidurals, a lot of gas and air (which I loved), a catheter (when this was being emptied I asked the midwife, 'who was having a wee? YOU! She said - did I think someone was squating in the corner of the delivery suite?!), stitches...and finally a baby boy! I could practically balance him on one hand and although I thought he looked a bit like a frog..he was my frog.
TD's birth couldn't have been more different. She was almost 2 weeks early, and I started with labour pains whilst having lunch in a cafe with Mr.B. Before I set off to the hospital at about 9pm that night, I read FBS a bedtime story, made and ate a chicken stir fry. I rang my mum around 7.30pm to ask if she could come over to look after FBS, "Yes", she said, "But can I watch The Bill first?" Yes, cheers mum, in your own time! Since FBSs birth, the local maternity ward had been changed into a midwife led "birth centre". After protesting for 8 and a half months that I wanted to travel to the maternity unit in the next town, and have "all the drugs", this was where TD was born. The birth centre in Huddersfield can only be decribed as the closest thing you will get to a health spa on the NHS. It was fabulous, and TD arrived less than four hours after we got there with only the help of a birthing pool, a gay brummie midwife and of course LOTS of gas and air! Aside from the usual cursing at MrB, (well I was in labour, it wasn't that brilliant!) it was a wonderful experience. I was very lucky and this has certainly made up for the halloween style birth of FBS. TD looked like Max Branning off of Eastenders, but I didn' care..She was my Max Branning.
Love
Kerry B xx
