I have never really thought of sharing the story of how Darby entered the world. It wasn't really a thing I blogged about and I felt as though he was too old for me to do this. Yet on the eve of his 5th birthday I had this overwhelming urge to finally put it down on paper!
Its not as though his birth was so traumatic that I have blocked it from my mind. Quite the opposite really.
As far as births go - and I've only done it once, it was a pretty blissful experience - (ok that may be exaggerating a lot).
From what I remember it wasn't too bad although as the years pass the exact details are getting a little hazy around the edges.
I know this is one of those memories that will never leave me but as he is getting older, I am getting further away from that Tuesday night in September 2007.
In some way it is nice to have it documented somewhere for me and maybe even him to reflect on in years to come, and by then I'm sure to have forgotten more of the details (I struggled with parts writing this) !
So read or don't read this is a story for my little boy...
All throughout my pregnancy, I would think about the birth, not so much the pain of it, but that magic moment that that baby of mine would be placed on my chest. The thought always made me tear up, the emotions would seem to bubble over and I would burst with this unknown love and happiness. I really didn't know how I was going to cope with the real thing. I thought about this moment every single day of my pregnancy, and it kept me going when I didn't think I had it in me any more.
Darby's journey in my tummy was fairly smooth sailing, He was nice and cosy and happy in there sitting the right way the whole time and really enjoying his time. I created a very happy home, maybe too comfy. I had no expectation as to how big he would be, but from the size of me and my tummy I was hoping he was just a tad on the bigger side, to justify the size I was.
I chose his name really early on, I just knew I was having a boy, so I called him Darby from the very start. I heard a celebrity had called his son that and I just got stuck on that name. No others resonated enough with me, I loved others, Aiden, Jacob & Spencer, but none of them felt the same.
Dave was not convinced by my choice, he actually didn't like it all that much, so I had alot of work to do to convince him. A lot!
His due date was September 17, so that day I kept myself extra busy, I took myself off to the shops, I had a coffee in Borders and read all of the Monday magazines. I went grocery shopping, and lugged quite a few heavy bags back to the car, anything to start labour rolling. I picked up some last minute things I was sure to need in the delivery room; lollies, pack of cards and some more magazines!
I kept getting messages from well meaning friends and relatives wishing me luck, but this just made me more nervous. I rang a couple to let them know I was still waiting, and let a few more stew on it to think I may have been in labour ! I'm cruel like that!
I spoke to Dave countless times, I'm sure he was sick of me calling, but at the same time probably apprehensive about the whole thing himself!
That night came and went and still no sign of anything. I was one frustrated 40 week pregnant woman!
I couldn't sleep all night, getting up so many times to empty my bladder, and at 5.30am I woke up feeling ultra uncomfortable so I got up and had a shower and dressed myself in my usual at home, heavily pregnant attire - tracksuit and one of Dave's t-shirts!
I layed on the couch and started to have niggling pains and what I thought to be small contractions. I never had Braxton Hicks, so I had no idea what to expect. The pain wasn't that bad so I sent Dave to work. The pains were bearable and I was sure he would irritate me if he sat around just waiting and wondering, he was not good at waiting, so I was sure it would have slowed things down.
I had planned on going to the movies and seeing Hairspray in Yarraville, but decided against it, if I really was in labour I didn't want to have my waters break in a movie theatre watching a very cheesy movie.
So I stuck to watching TV, I decided napping was the only way to survive morning television.
These contractions were coming every 20 minutes or so and then they would stop and go away for an hour. I was getting frustrated when they would come back and then go away.
I went to the computer and googled "What do contractions feel like" I got various answers, "like back pain" "tightening of your stomach" "like period pain".
I could kind of put the pains I was having into one of those boxes, but I decided to ring the hospital just to ask some questions.
I rang through and spoke to quite a huffy midwife. I cant remember the exact conversation, but it went something like,
Midwife: Is this your first baby?
Me: Yes
Midwife: Have your waters broken?
Me: No
Midwife: Have you had a show?
Me: No.
Midwife: Are your contractions regular or 5 minutes apart?
Me: No.
Midwife: OK, you are not having any signs of active labour, so you are probably in for a long couple of days, make sure you get some rest.
Me: Great, just great..
It seemed as though I was wasting her time. She then mentioned or warned me if I called 3 times I would have to come in to be monitored.
So I just napped again, pains coming and going but not getting worse. I am not sure how I filled the day, other thank laying on the couch and watching bad daytime TV and surfing the net.
I called Dave at 3 or 4 when it felt as though the pains were getting slightly worse. I asked him to come home and pick up dinner. I called the hospital again. To say I was in a little more pain, I spoke to the same midwife. I'm sure she was annoyed again. No more signs really except for more pain. She advised me to go and take some panadol or panadeine if I had it - I was most likely in for a very long night!
I popped some panadol, which did absolutely nothing.
I just felt like the company at this point to relieve the boredom. Dave came home and we organised dinner. He picked up some fan bloody tastic lamb steaks, from our local butchers, marinated in rosemary and mint. I didn't feel like a whole heap, so I just had a few bites even though they were beautiful. We then decided it was a great idea to clean out the fridge. We were trying to kill some time, Oh the things you do when you think you think you are in labour. At this point it was about 7.30pm and my contractions were stronger. We started watching TV and for some reason we were watching Poker tournaments on Foxtel, I handled this ok, until the pain was almost unbearable.
My contractions were still all over the shop, every 10 minutes, then every 2 and then 5. I was getting so frustrated with Dave and his counting, I knew it wasn't his fault, but I was starting to get annoyed! I turned to him and said "Turn that f***ing Poker off" - and with that it was Game on!
I went to the toilet and had a show!! I freaked out, but was ok. The pain was getting pretty horrible and contractions were every 2 minutes. I thought it may be a good idea to have a shower, as I was about to get in, I had this overwhelming urge to push - oh oh.
I think this was showtime and I wasn't really meant to be mucking around at home. How could it be, it didn't feel like I had been in labour long enough, I was expecting to be in this state for days.
I told Dave to call the hospital and tell them we were coming in! We left home at around 9.30. The 15 minute drive to the hospital was the most painful of them all. I couldn't get comfortable, and the contractions were really strong. Of course we managed to encounter a road train crossing, which took up 5 -10 minutes, or what felt like a lifetime! At this point I told Dave to turn the car around and go home, I had, had enough - alarm bells went off in my head as I remember that kind of talking came right right at the end when you could do no more.
My contractions were coming thick and fast and the urge to push was strong, oh crap, I was going to have this baby by the edge of the roadside!
Luckily that didn't occur and I think I sighed a little when we arrived at the hospital at right on 10.00pm. On the walk from the car to the door I had to stop every couple of moments to get through a contraction. A guy walked past just staring at us, I was glad it was late at night, but I really didn't give a hoot.
We arrived at St Vincents, and Dave checked us in. I had contractions all the way up to the delivery suite.
I walked in to the suite and went straight to the bathroom to get dressed into a hospital gown , on the toilet there was a big gush and my waters broke. I came out in my glamorous robe and onto the bed and I began pushing straight away, I was fully dilated.
I asked for pain relief, but the lovely midwife said the only pain relief I would be getting would be having this baby, although she set up the gas to make me feel better.
They called my obstetrician who luckily lived around the corner and he arrived 10 minutes later. I didn't know how the pushing was going to work with my hip replacement, but it just did, I layed on my side, with Dave giving me ice and telling me to keep my chin down. It all happened so fast, all of a sudden, they told me to stop pushing and start panting (no time to feel like a dog at this point!), the head was out, and then a few more pushes and there at 10.51pm he was, pulled out and that magical moment where he was placed on my chest. My little boy.
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Those tears I thought I would have didn't come, instead the happiest smile broke out across my face, I beamed from ear to ear as I looked down at this little boy I loved so much already. I looked up at Dave, his cheeks were wet from his tears, the ones I thought I would have. I don't remember the rest, being stitched up or the placenta, I just spent time gazing into this little boys eyes.
No time for cameras, no time for card games, you were in a big hurry to get out.
Darby weighed 8 pound 6, 51cm and was squishy and chubby and just perfect. Both him and I went into shock, but some kind of delirious, happy shock. He didn't cry and he sure as hell didn't want to eat.
We tried to call my mum and dad, but the phone rang out , we tried again and the same thing! So I called my sister. Woke her up from her sleep! Took a few moments for her to register with her that she had become an Aunty. She was very excited (and our first visitor the next day!) Eventually my mum called me back. I said, "mum you are a grandmother" - she was taken aback and again it took her awhile to register that my baby had already arrived! {It turns out they had got stuck into the red wine that night and were in a deep sleep when I called!!}
There he was, my perfect little bundle of joy, so cliched, but oh so true. He has become my right hand man through those 5 years, it has been such an honour to watch him grow.
Now he is five, and growing up so quickly!
Happy Birthday Darb's, Love you heaps my little man. Thank you for being you!
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I chose his name really early on, I just knew I was having a boy, so I called him Darby from the very start. I heard a celebrity had called his son that and I just got stuck on that name. No others resonated enough with me, I loved others, Aiden, Jacob & Spencer, but none of them felt the same.
Dave was not convinced by my choice, he actually didn't like it all that much, so I had alot of work to do to convince him. A lot!
His due date was September 17, so that day I kept myself extra busy, I took myself off to the shops, I had a coffee in Borders and read all of the Monday magazines. I went grocery shopping, and lugged quite a few heavy bags back to the car, anything to start labour rolling. I picked up some last minute things I was sure to need in the delivery room; lollies, pack of cards and some more magazines!
I kept getting messages from well meaning friends and relatives wishing me luck, but this just made me more nervous. I rang a couple to let them know I was still waiting, and let a few more stew on it to think I may have been in labour ! I'm cruel like that!
I spoke to Dave countless times, I'm sure he was sick of me calling, but at the same time probably apprehensive about the whole thing himself!
That night came and went and still no sign of anything. I was one frustrated 40 week pregnant woman!
I couldn't sleep all night, getting up so many times to empty my bladder, and at 5.30am I woke up feeling ultra uncomfortable so I got up and had a shower and dressed myself in my usual at home, heavily pregnant attire - tracksuit and one of Dave's t-shirts!
I layed on the couch and started to have niggling pains and what I thought to be small contractions. I never had Braxton Hicks, so I had no idea what to expect. The pain wasn't that bad so I sent Dave to work. The pains were bearable and I was sure he would irritate me if he sat around just waiting and wondering, he was not good at waiting, so I was sure it would have slowed things down.
I had planned on going to the movies and seeing Hairspray in Yarraville, but decided against it, if I really was in labour I didn't want to have my waters break in a movie theatre watching a very cheesy movie.
So I stuck to watching TV, I decided napping was the only way to survive morning television.
These contractions were coming every 20 minutes or so and then they would stop and go away for an hour. I was getting frustrated when they would come back and then go away.
I went to the computer and googled "What do contractions feel like" I got various answers, "like back pain" "tightening of your stomach" "like period pain".
I could kind of put the pains I was having into one of those boxes, but I decided to ring the hospital just to ask some questions.
I rang through and spoke to quite a huffy midwife. I cant remember the exact conversation, but it went something like,
Midwife: Is this your first baby?
Me: Yes
Midwife: Have your waters broken?
Me: No
Midwife: Have you had a show?
Me: No.
Midwife: Are your contractions regular or 5 minutes apart?
Me: No.
Midwife: OK, you are not having any signs of active labour, so you are probably in for a long couple of days, make sure you get some rest.
Me: Great, just great..
It seemed as though I was wasting her time. She then mentioned or warned me if I called 3 times I would have to come in to be monitored.
So I just napped again, pains coming and going but not getting worse. I am not sure how I filled the day, other thank laying on the couch and watching bad daytime TV and surfing the net.
I called Dave at 3 or 4 when it felt as though the pains were getting slightly worse. I asked him to come home and pick up dinner. I called the hospital again. To say I was in a little more pain, I spoke to the same midwife. I'm sure she was annoyed again. No more signs really except for more pain. She advised me to go and take some panadol or panadeine if I had it - I was most likely in for a very long night!
I popped some panadol, which did absolutely nothing.
I just felt like the company at this point to relieve the boredom. Dave came home and we organised dinner. He picked up some fan bloody tastic lamb steaks, from our local butchers, marinated in rosemary and mint. I didn't feel like a whole heap, so I just had a few bites even though they were beautiful. We then decided it was a great idea to clean out the fridge. We were trying to kill some time, Oh the things you do when you think you think you are in labour. At this point it was about 7.30pm and my contractions were stronger. We started watching TV and for some reason we were watching Poker tournaments on Foxtel, I handled this ok, until the pain was almost unbearable.
My contractions were still all over the shop, every 10 minutes, then every 2 and then 5. I was getting so frustrated with Dave and his counting, I knew it wasn't his fault, but I was starting to get annoyed! I turned to him and said "Turn that f***ing Poker off" - and with that it was Game on!
I went to the toilet and had a show!! I freaked out, but was ok. The pain was getting pretty horrible and contractions were every 2 minutes. I thought it may be a good idea to have a shower, as I was about to get in, I had this overwhelming urge to push - oh oh.
I think this was showtime and I wasn't really meant to be mucking around at home. How could it be, it didn't feel like I had been in labour long enough, I was expecting to be in this state for days.
I told Dave to call the hospital and tell them we were coming in! We left home at around 9.30. The 15 minute drive to the hospital was the most painful of them all. I couldn't get comfortable, and the contractions were really strong. Of course we managed to encounter a road train crossing, which took up 5 -10 minutes, or what felt like a lifetime! At this point I told Dave to turn the car around and go home, I had, had enough - alarm bells went off in my head as I remember that kind of talking came right right at the end when you could do no more.
My contractions were coming thick and fast and the urge to push was strong, oh crap, I was going to have this baby by the edge of the roadside!
Luckily that didn't occur and I think I sighed a little when we arrived at the hospital at right on 10.00pm. On the walk from the car to the door I had to stop every couple of moments to get through a contraction. A guy walked past just staring at us, I was glad it was late at night, but I really didn't give a hoot.
We arrived at St Vincents, and Dave checked us in. I had contractions all the way up to the delivery suite.
I walked in to the suite and went straight to the bathroom to get dressed into a hospital gown , on the toilet there was a big gush and my waters broke. I came out in my glamorous robe and onto the bed and I began pushing straight away, I was fully dilated.
I asked for pain relief, but the lovely midwife said the only pain relief I would be getting would be having this baby, although she set up the gas to make me feel better.
They called my obstetrician who luckily lived around the corner and he arrived 10 minutes later. I didn't know how the pushing was going to work with my hip replacement, but it just did, I layed on my side, with Dave giving me ice and telling me to keep my chin down. It all happened so fast, all of a sudden, they told me to stop pushing and start panting (no time to feel like a dog at this point!), the head was out, and then a few more pushes and there at 10.51pm he was, pulled out and that magical moment where he was placed on my chest. My little boy.
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Those tears I thought I would have didn't come, instead the happiest smile broke out across my face, I beamed from ear to ear as I looked down at this little boy I loved so much already. I looked up at Dave, his cheeks were wet from his tears, the ones I thought I would have. I don't remember the rest, being stitched up or the placenta, I just spent time gazing into this little boys eyes.
No time for cameras, no time for card games, you were in a big hurry to get out.
Darby weighed 8 pound 6, 51cm and was squishy and chubby and just perfect. Both him and I went into shock, but some kind of delirious, happy shock. He didn't cry and he sure as hell didn't want to eat.
We tried to call my mum and dad, but the phone rang out , we tried again and the same thing! So I called my sister. Woke her up from her sleep! Took a few moments for her to register with her that she had become an Aunty. She was very excited (and our first visitor the next day!) Eventually my mum called me back. I said, "mum you are a grandmother" - she was taken aback and again it took her awhile to register that my baby had already arrived! {It turns out they had got stuck into the red wine that night and were in a deep sleep when I called!!}
There he was, my perfect little bundle of joy, so cliched, but oh so true. He has become my right hand man through those 5 years, it has been such an honour to watch him grow.
Now he is five, and growing up so quickly!
Happy Birthday Darb's, Love you heaps my little man. Thank you for being you!
Today I am linking up with the delightful Jess at Diary of SAHM (hope she is feeling better after her wisdom teeth extraction!) for
Until next time, Life is too short for crappy coffee
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