Third Time’s a Charm

Our third baby had a relatively ‘easy’ entrance in to the world. With my first labour being a bit of a nightmare and the second being perfect but very longwinded, we did not know what to expect third time round. Each experience had been massively different and apart from both of our other children arriving later than their due dates (both eight days exactly), there seemed to be no set pattern with how each labour or birth would go.

Throughout the whole pregnancy I was absolutely wiped out - having two kids under four and being pregnant is a sure fire recipe for exhaustion - despite having given up work after having Bud and now being a full time stay at home Mom. In retrospect I probably would have had more rest if I had actually been working; Mom life is full on!! Then at 35 weeks of the pregnancy I had a check up and was told that the baby’s heartbeat was irregular; ectopic heartbeats like our first daughter. Jellybean had been healthy at birth with no ongoing heart issues, so that made us feel a bit better this time round, but it meant again that this pregnancy was high risk and our hopes of having a similar experience at the birthing suite where Bud had been born was out of the window. I was booked in at the hospital and subsequently dreaded the labour, began to panic slightly and started reliving all the stress we had during Jellybean’s labour. However, I had to keep reminding myself that giving birth is a means to an end, and that if the baby was born healthy that was all that mattered.

I had a check up three days after my due date and was given a sweep which seemed to move things along. The following morning I walked to nursery with the kids and began to feel the familiar tightening of contractions. I ignored them as best as I could, determined this time to wait until absolutely necessary to go in to hospital. The contractions intensified throughout the day but I just tried to carry on as normal, running round after the crazy bundle of energy that was Josh and visiting my Nan and Grandad. I called Rob at some point and casually said I thought I could have been in labour, but don’t rush home from work because I am not ready to go to hospital yet. I had purchased a TENS machine as that had helped during Josh’s labour, so I just kept cranking that up and trying not to panic.

I managed to continue through the day in this blissful bubble of denial until around 8pm (twelve or so hours in) when I couldn’t lie any more about the pain and decided to run a bath. I sobbed saying I couldn’t go through with it (a sure sign for me that I was in full labour but at the time I didn’t realise). We got my Mom round to stay with the kids and got to the hospital at around 10.30pm.

We were not shocked to find that there were no labour rooms available (the hospital was chaotic, noisy and there were no pretty, twinkly lights like where our son's birth) so we had to go in to a waiting room full of other people. At this stage I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t sit down and just rocked and whimpered a bit until we were ushered in to our room and got examined to find I was eight centimetres dilated - hooray!! - and very close to the finishing line. Unlike Jellybean’s birth, we didn’t have lots of staff prodding and poking; just one calm midwife who was happy with the progress and all the checks showed that the baby was doing well. I abandoned my trusty TENS machine and on just a bit of gas and air, my waters broke…shortly afterwards I managed to give birth to Boo at 11.45pm.

She was 7lb 15oz, healthy and looked the absolute spitting image of her Daddy. The usual drama of the stupid placenta and general crap aftermath of having a baby put a slight dampener on things (being stitched up after giving birth is one of the most uncomfortable, awkward experiences a woman can go through. The haze of pain and labour has subsided and the realisation kicks in that you are very exposed and very intimate with a person you just met). After a few checks, lots of cuddles and a good few sighs of relief, Rob went home and I was put in a wheelchair and taken up to the ward where I spent the night with my beautiful little newborn, getting on really well with breastfeeding and just feeling super proud of myself for actually just taking my time and getting through a labour and birth I had feared was going to be disastrous. The following morning, Rob came to pick us up, the kids met their new baby sister and we began our magical (?!) journey of parenting three kids. Breastfeeding promptly went out of the window as I found myself juggling a screaming baby, a potty training toddler and a busy four year old. We quickly realised that we were now outnumbered by our kids and that chaos was our new normal.