It’s always today every year that I am reminded of a two things.
Firstly, its my consistent inability to cut the correct amount of wrapping paper for gifts. This issue lasts until about Christmas Eve, where I manage to master it on the last gift I wrap.
Secondly, it reminds me of what it was like on the 1st of December 2002. The day I become a Mum.
It was a frigging hot day. I think at worst the thermometer hit 42 degrees or something and I was 12 days overdue to have my daughter. I basically looked like a watermelon on toothpicks. It was ridiculous.
I couldn’t wait to hold my little love in my arms and was booked in for an induction on the night of the 1st of December. At 6pm to be exact. I had an overtly romanticised idea of how the birth of my first born was going to be and like everything else in my life … the universe taught me not to have preconceived ideas.
In the final hours prior to said induction, I took the opportunity to scoff down a McDonald’s sundae and take a long walk up a steep hill in the hope I would convince her to come of her own accord.
After such ridiculous use of my energy on such a scorching hot day, I spoke to my Mum on the phone. She lived 2.5 hrs away at the time and was due to head over to be with me for some hand holding and serious screaming the following day. Because who has a first baby via induction quickly?
I had only just put the phone down to Mum when BAM first contraction arrived.
It was one of those holy fuck what have I got myself into moments where I pretended everything was fine and it was just a false alarm. (cause really .. this baby was going to be dragged out kicking and screaming?). I didn’t mention anything to the Father To Be as I didn’t want to remove his head from the extremely important engineering text he was reading.
So I Frontline the dog instead. As you do.
Then BAM again…another contraction…less than 5 minutes apart.
So I stacked the dishwasher. (yup lets just pretend this isn’t happening shall we?)
BAM another one before I was done getting the cutlery sorted.
I didn’t panic though… Instead there were thoughts of …CRAP still so much tidying of this house to do before baby arrives. (Like who the fuck thinks that shit?..I do clearly..well I used to..when I was Miss Tidy-Organised-Boring-As-Fuck)
At this point I decided I should have a cool shower and reassess my thoughts. I also decided to not mention to anyone I thought I might be having a baby… (Like why??)
BAM another contraction. Less than 5 mins again and soap not rinsed from watermelon on toothpicks body.
Time to admit baby is arriving to the man that does everything by the book. Except he hadn’t read the book on delivering babies.
Luckily he had read the book on driving a car so we drove really fast to hospital instead. Contractions in the car happened. Contractions getting into the ward happened. And then in the sweetest of voices I calmly tried to tell my work colleague (I worked at the hospital at the time) that I thought I was about to have a baby. She looked at me and said ‘really dear?’ in that condescending sort of way old Mums like to give new Mums.
What ensued was a train wreck. There is no other way to explain it. I was right. I was about to have a baby. Like right now. My lovely work colleague ended up with scratches up her arms from my crazy. There is no way in hell you can prepare for the end stage of labour when its your first child and there was not even a FIRST STAGE.
My daughter was born weighing 9lbs 1 oz about a half an hour after arriving at hospital. I would like to think maybe she just grew out of me because she was freaking enormous and that is exactly the first words I heard from a nurse after she was delivered. Even before I had seen her. Then her Dad came bouncing around to my end of the bed saying .. you should see the size of her head. And me thinking ..well by fuck I am looking at the size of your head dude and I am wondering what the hell I was ever thinking…oh AND ouch as the doctor stitched up the carnage.
On handing over my newborn 3 month old, the midwife encouraged me to offer her the breast. To which I did and to which my madam took up like a dyson on cornflakes. I screamed out to the midwife to come and get her and that she had teeth. I was convinced. I was so insistent the midwife took my newborn 3 month old to double check. Sadly..she didn’t. She was just really bloody hungry. And looking back .. that might have been why she decided to exit when she did. Hungry. It always makes me do crazy things. Family thing maybe.
Anyways…she was massive and there were injuries to me that took MANY MONTHS to heal and my toes curled each and every time I let her latch on for a feed – which would always be 40 mins long ON EACH SIDE.
But she was mine. My body made her. Perfectly in fact. Except maybe for the folded down ears which I spent a good month trying to pin back up whilst I fed her. (Eventually they went back to normal human ears .. all good there)
So tomorrow my 9 lb born newborn baby turns 13. A teenager. New territory for me and her. Luckily for both of us she has taken a much slower approach to life since her furiously fast birth. She is gentle and kind, so I am hoping this will fair us well during these apparently difficult teen years.
Whilst I was cursing myself trying to wrap her gifts tonight (with the wrapping paper I had cut too short) .. I was reminded that becoming a Mum is constant practice. Like my wrapping of gifts, you just have to keep trying to cut the right length of paper. Sometimes you fall short. Sometimes you over deliver. Sometimes you get it perfect. Most importantly, you just keep going until your package is all wrapped tight. With love.
So yeah .. thats my story about how I am crap at wrapping gifts and my uterus growing and then delivering 9lb babies. But how stellar I am at making good of both situations.
In other news according to authorities in Australian blogging, Mummy blogging is dead. And I hate being classed as a Mummy Blogger anyway. So thats PERFECT. Even though I do write at times about being a Mummy. DUH.
So in celebration of my Anti Mummy Blogging Blog where I blog about Mummy things SOMETIMES (just like childless people blog about not having children SOMETIMES) and have this great fucking community where we talk about all sorts of things and not just being a Mummy …here is another picture of me with my newborn 3 month old taken a couple of days after her birth. Yes she was longer than I was wide.