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Pregnancy update: when you’re not a spring chicken anymore
So I’m officially 30 weeks preggers today and even though this is baby number 4 for me (kid number 5 for us), I’m still so amazed every time the little pooper moves around in my womb. I mean, there is another life inside of me. It’s such a miracle! The back pain probably originated from the pit of hell, but other than that, the rest of it is definitely heaven-orchestrated. Like, I’m convinced.
How am I feeling right now? Well, I was telling a friend that it’s so weird how this pregnancy is vastly different to my previous pregnancies. There are a lot of aches and pains this time around, you guys.
I think that a lot of the pain has to do with the pressure of my umbilical hernia and the overbearing amount of weight I feel in my belly. I mean, the diastasis recti has ensured that my tummy muscles are now divorced and no longer in a loving relationship with each other. Which means my core is pretty much a non-event. My back is killing me – walking has become tedious. And you would think that laying down would be better, but I have to find just the right angle or else I’m riddled with pain again.
But I mean *insert chirper voice here* other than that everything is just like, SOOOOO awsome right now!
Pause for effect.
That pause (and the bathroom selfie) was actually just a distraction so that I can blow my nose without anyone looking at me. Apparently pregnancy rhinitis is a real thing… did you know that? Pregnancy rhinitis is basically nasal congestion and an increase in mucus production, due to an increased blood flow. In a nutshell, I am a walking ball of snot. It’s especially attractive at night when Hubstopher wants to cuddle.But I mean, besides for that, the misconstrued emotional outbursts (hey Hubstopher), the extreme tiredness and the fact that I can’t breathe sometimes, everything is GREAT!
The crazy thing, my friends, is that I sometimes feel like I can’t say these things outloud because then it sounds as if I’m complaining and not fully appreciating the miracle baby in my belly. So many other women would give anything to be in my position. How DARE I complain?!
But the truth is that I’m not in my 20’s anymore, Deborah Patta. It’s not MY fault… it’s how life works. I mean, I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore. The last time I was “in my 20s” was when Miley Cyrus was Hannah Montana. So obvz this pregnancy is going to feel a lot different on my body. And that’s okay.
But how does one enjoy a whole 2 more months of aches, pains, snotty noses and extreme fatigue without, you know, letting it become the backtrack of your life?
Well, I guess this is where perspective comes into play… recognizing the season for what it is and choosing to focus on the fact that my little pooper will make an appearance in a couple of weeks. And when that happens… when I get to look into my babys face for the first time … none of this will matter anymore.
Photo attributes: (Header) 2017 Love My Body photoshoot; (Body) Taken by Ella
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I’m not that cute anymore
I can’t remember the last time I felt attractive. I blame this on the state of my hair, the aging of my skin, the flabbiness of my body and the fact that I’ve been pregnant three times in four years.
I blame it on the umbilical hernia that makes me look as if an alien is trying to escape my body through my belly button. I blame it on hormones, on the stress of life, on the fact that I’m always busy but I don’t always want to be busy so then I stop doing things and then I hate myself for not doing things.
I blame it on the fact that I don’t have the time for skin care and hair care and tweezing my eyebrows until they match (your eyebrows should be cousins, not twin sisters, btw).
I blame it on my husband. Surely he should make me feel better somehow? (Just “somehow” okay? I don’t have specifics). I blame it on the world – on media, Insta-fashion and reality tv shows that advertise a life where everyone looks put together all the time.
I blame it on myself. Mostly on myself. I mean, even if you told me that I look nice today, the little voice in the back of my head would tell me that you’re just saying so to be polite. I feel ugly like, majority of the time. There, I said it.
The cool factor that I had going for me (when I was still, you know, cool) is gone. I’m old and boring now. The novelty of me – as the “cute wife” – has worn off. And I wonder if my Hubstopher regrets not choosing a younger version, when he decided to settle down.
I mean, I feel like I pretty much have the same form and functionality as the toaster or the TV’s remote control. Nothing to see here, move along. Unless you want a sandwich. I’m here for that.
Now, hear me out Oprah Winfrey. I get it… The fact that I’ve carried four whole children in my womb should flippen mean something. I’ve sacrificed my youth, my time and my body for something that yields a far greater reward than being able to fit into a size 26 jeans again. I should give myself a lot more credit than this. Seriously, Patricia, self pity is not a good look.And anyways, my appearance doesn’t determine my worth… my value…my beauty. That’s kinda superficial and a really shallow way to think. Surely. Right?
But if we’re going to be honest, friends, we’re all this girl sometime or other. We have seasons where we try to love on ourselves and fail to do so because you just can’t find anything to love. We’re kinda hard on ourselves and on our beautiful, masterpiece-of-a-creation, bodies, creating boxes that MUST be ticked, before we deem it okay to be, well, exactly who we were created to be.
Does it make sense? Nope. Does it ever end? Well, I don’t know. Is it okay? Well, kinda no. It’s never okay to not love on yourself and the body that God has given you.
I’m learning that being me – the REAL me – is the most beautiful thing that I could ever be… in all my stretch-marked, big-thighed, baggy-under-eyed glory. And I guess the real battle is getting to a place where I’m okay with being that girl, even on days when my jeans don’t fit.
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Motherhood: a stripping
I vaguely remember those days of bliss (painful bliss?), after birthing my babies. I mean, how much detail would you expect a stitched up, overly exhausted, hormone-wrecked new mom to remember? Post-birth days are a blur.
The one thing I do remember is the way I instantly fell inlove with each baby. Like, immediately. There is no feeling like it, right ladies? I lived in that euphoria for days post-birth… the pain and broken body not as important as the sweet smell of my baby.
And even when my sister and I jokingly chat about how scary I look post birth, I know that it’s in jest and I honestly couldn’t care less about my appearance or what other people think, in that moment.
But one comment that a visitor made after seeing me (in all my unkept glory) kinda stuck with me.
It had been about three days, post birth, and I was frazzled and in pain. Our visitors arrived with supper (praise the good Lord) and quietly had a peek at baby, before heading home (and again I say, praise the Lord). But not before I hear one innocently whisper to the other “yoh, motherhood strips you!”
At the time I remember thinking, gosh are these people really going to comment on my underwhelming appearance right now?! I mean, I was both mortified and uncaring about the whole situation. It didn’t bug me enough to want to, you know, block people on Facebook. But it did make me want to contour my face into perfection and put on a push up bra, like, immediately. (I did neither, btw.)
Looking back now, as I sit in pain with baby number five in my belly, I’m reminded of that comment. Motherhood strips you. How true those words are!
A close friend of mine shared that she learnt a lesson in being undignified the day she birthed her kids. There is nothing quite like the raw abandonment a mother feels, as she births her child. At that moment, you literally don’t care who sees your what.
Well thought out Brazilian waxes and tanned calf muscles are unimportant, as you thrust your legs up, on either side, to pretty much whoever wants to hold them, so that you can get the kid out asap. Your pretty Woolies bra and face beat really not that impressive, as you clutch your newborn tightly while they latch onto your raw nipple, drawing blood.
Those first few days of motherhood strips you and you become someone else – well, still you, I guess, but like, the undiluted version. You’re overly aware of your body and your child’s needs and, honestly, making sure that both are okay becomes the primary concern. All the other frills and bows are just… well, froth. You know, froth: the top part of a cup of really good coffee that gives it that pretty aesthetic but doesn’t determine how great the java is.
And as for the rest of Motherhood… yep, pretty much the same thing! Your children take priority – numero uno (have you seen Kari and I dress for church? She’s model chic and I’m “can someone tell Luchae that her top is on inside out”). Your priorities are never the same again!
I am reminded of this journey and just how much we go through to successfully carry, birth and raise our children. Reminded of the stripping… the vulnerability of the human body and how a mother abandons her own dignity, to ensure that her child is safe, alive and healthy.
I’m not saying that there is ugly in the birthing process. No matter how you’ve come to meet your child – whether it be on a hospital table or through a tear-streaked filling out of forms – it is beautiful… satisfying… a hot mess of emotions… but so fulfilling.
And if you think about it, a stripping HAS to take place. Because you’re pretty much never the same again.
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The big gender reveal
Well, I’m more than half way into cooking a whole baby in my belly and we have yet to reveal the gender to anyone. More so because we don’t know our little youngling’s gender either. And guess what you guys, we don’t plan to find out anytime soon.
Our big gender reveal will most likely only take place when baby Williams is actually here. Yep – we’re going ‘royal family’ and will only find out baby’s gender once he/she is born. As you can imagine, this was totally and completely Hubstopher’s idea (because I have a super intense spreadsheet brain and I need to know everything all the time). I had, in fact, planned many an elaborate gender reveal parties in my head (Imagine us skydiving out of an aeroplane and when our parachute opens up, it reveals either pink or blue! Genius, right?!) But alas, I will not be having my Youtube moment.
Current mood: Aaaaaack!
For the most part I’ve managed to keep my emotions in check and even though I try to read my ultra sound scans with a doctor’s eye (hey, I watch Grey’s Anatomy, I’m practically a doctor anyways), I’ve still not been able to decipher whether our little one has a winky or a wonky.
I mean, okay, you’ve got to give it to Hubstopher… not finding out the gender is pretty quirky and cool. But it DOES hold serious implications.
I mean, for starters, (and most importantly) do I buy pink or blue clothing? Fair enough, I have spotted really pretty baby wear in greys and tans and muted yellows and mint greens. But that’s not the point. Do I get pink or blue?! Huh?!
The other thing is that our sissie is convinced that it’s a sister. We’ve been trying to prepare our smallies for the impending birth of baby Williams, and we refer to it as “the baby” or as “baby brother or sister” but, you guys, she’s so convinced that it’s a sister that she’s actually convinced me too. (I do realize that it’s probably a boy, just because I think it’s a girl. Such is my life.)Not knowing the gender kinda deters us from deciding on a name. I mean, I’ve already decided on a name that is unisex (much to Hubstopher’s disdain). And when I say “decided” I mean, I’ve pretty much personalised items with the name on it. He says I’m rude for not waiting for his approval. I say “How many of our children have you birthed from your actual body? Exactly.” And back and forth we go. So we’re currently sans name.
I guess other cons to not knowing the gender is that it might be a bit harder to bond with baby… well, that’s what the internet says. I haven’t had that problem though (praise God) and to be honest, I’m actually a lot more excited about the birth than I thought I would be (natural birth yo, without any pain relief at all… it’s a trip!)
I guess finding out the gender at birth will be the cherry on the cake, after giving birth to three kids in a span of five years.
If you’ve held off finding out what your baby’s gender is, until birth, please drop me a message in the comments section below and let me know how it all went down!
By the way, current mood is still aaaack!
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Telling our kids we are pregnant
When you have as many as we do, you kinda brace yourself when breaking pregnancy news to the kids. Telling our kids we are pregnant was a pretty big deal in our home.
I mean, the older ones help out with the younger ones (thanks Kyle), so a new baby means more smallies to run after. It helps that Kyle is almost 18 and that Seth (who lives with his bio mom anyways) is 13. But you guys, Jo (2) and Kari (4) are a handful on their own. Kari thinks that Jo is a handful too (I know this because she says it). Jo… well, he’s just outchere being cute and cherub-like. But he’s two years old. So I wasn’t sure if #demkids would appreciate the addition of yet another little Williams. And I don’t blame them.
Another child means that time, money and other frivolities will have to be rationed between five whole children now and not just four. Again, I can’t stress enough how helpful it is (such a weird thing to be thankful for) that the older boys have whole other families in their lives. I mean, it eases the load, if you know what I mean. But we still need to consider things like one on one time (dating your kids is a real thing), the paying of school fees, making sure they are clothed and fed and other important stuff like that. Oh and the WiFi. Someone needs to pay for the WiFi.
The thought of one more can be extremely overwhelming. I totally have moments where I’m like “aaack, I’m having another baby, am I CRAZY?!” Of corse, those moments are few and far between the more predominant moments of “Oh my goodness, I’m having another baby, heart melt!”
I get it. It’s alot with to deal with mentally… well, for me atleast, and I’m their MOTHER. So let’s just say we were a bit wary when breaking the news to the kids.
We waited a very long time before we told them. Well, we waited a long time before we told anyone. Mainly because of health reasons (wanted to be sure that we’re in the safe zone first) but also because we wanted to keep the information to ourselves (you can read the reasons why over here).
When we finally told #demkids we were kinda stunned at their responses.For starters, Kari (who had been the “mommy please have another baby” champion in our home since December) was completely overwhelmed at the news. In fact, she had no words. Our girl. The outspoken one. She was silent. It took her a while to absorb the information, but once it hit home, she was a ball of energy planning out her journey, as a big sister, in detail.
Jonah… well, he was being his cute and cherub-like self. Also, he’s two. We didn’t really expect him to understand.
The older boys were a lot more optimistic than we had expected you guys! I mean, the immediate debate was that the child must either be named Kyle Seth Williams or Seth Kyle Williams. But I gladly encouraged it, because it meant that they were not running around, pulling their hair out at the news.
Both boys were kinda nonchalant about it though. They say that they have enough siblings to know what goes down when another is added to O Town (see what I did there) and they feel that they are ready for it.
All in all a good response, I think. I know. I’m still in shock. I mean, they handled it better than some of the adults we know. So that’s something right there.
Anyways, with that said, we’re still super excited (me, still super overwhelmed sometimes) and really looking forward to doing life with our crazy, big family! Big families are the best! And we be havin’ it! Somebody give me a high five, immediately.
(Watch a very short kids response video below.. recording stopped mid-way through the big reveal, don’t know how that happened. )
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My maternity leave is over and I’m excited
No, the title of this post was not written by tiny alien invaders who have taken over my body in an attempt to gain a deeper understanding of how the average mom brain works. (Suspicious sounding much?) But yes, I am excited that my maternity leave is over. Does that make me a weirdo?
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love lounging around (aka cleaning the house, doing the laundry and getting lunch and supper ready, all while holding a 8kg baby) but I need to get my life back. I find myself craving routine again. Can you believe it? It’s the spreadsheet brain talking, fa sho. Guys, I miss being a normal person. (If Hubstopher were here he would make a snarky remark about how I’ve never been a “normal person”.) Can anyone else relate? Did you find yourself craving the “norm” after four months of lying at home and doing nothing? I mean, it sounds like a sweet deal, but is it really?
If you read my previous post you would know that Baby Jo has been especially clingy. I could not get any work done while I was at home with him. He’s a really sweet kid and all but the fact that he preferred me over like, the rest of the world, literally all of the time (good taste, by the way), meant that I had no free time. Maternity leave is a fallacy, I tell you! A farce! They make you believe you’ll be enjoying an extended vacation period, all snuggled up with cute baby en tow. What they don’t warn you about is the sleepless nights, numerous amount of times you have to pick puke out of your hair and that you feel utterly unfabulous each day as you attempt to find an over-sized shirt that matches your fading gym pants.Look, it’s not all bad though. I mean, I did enjoy the fact that I could stay in bed during the colder Winter days. And Jonah has been the cutest, chubby-cheeked cherry on the cake, for sure! But I can’t wait to wake up with purpose again. I love being able to use my brain (for something other than remembering which boob was last emptied) and I love working towards a goal, whatever that may be. I have so many exciting ideas and campaigns that I can’t wait to get started on. And most of all… I miss wearing regular person clothes and make up man!
So here’s to you maternity leave. Thank you for the glorious four months of binge watching Greys Anatomy, drinking an overwhelming amount of tea and snort-laughing, in bed, as I scroll through Facebook and read about other people’s Monday blues. You’ve been kind but my season here is done. Luchae….out! -
My breast milk is better than yours
I don’t know about you ladies but I am feeling particularly magical today. Why? Well, because it’s World Breastfeeding Week (Aug 1 – 7) and to commemorate, I read up a whole bunch of fascinating facts about breastfeeding and breast milk. I love that we were designed to nourish our infants. I love that my milk contains everything my kid would need in the first few years of his life. And I love that my body knows what to do and when to do it (except for that one time in Pick n Pay, when I sneezed and milk came out). Anyways, my body knows what’s up, okay? Just believe me, you won’t regret it. But hey, enough chit chat, check out these facts, Jack:
Your breast milk has magical powers
Okay, not magical powers per say, but it IS rich in vitamins and minerals, amino acids, enzymes, white cells, carbohydrates and fats (but like, the good ones) and more than 80% of water. Did you know that your mommy milk can apparently clear up eczema, eye infections and even heal cracked nipples? In fact, it contains antibodies that provide baby with natural immunity to any illnesses that you are immune to.Your breast milk changes at night
Yes, I am implying that your breast milk is a superhero. According to studies by researchers in Spain,night time breast milk is rich in tryptophan – a sleep inducing amino acid. In a nutshell, the more your kid gets the better his sleep cycle will be. Sounds like a superhero to me.Your breast milk matures with age
Much like a fine wine, your mommy milk actually changes as your kids needs change. So when your toddler needs that extra dose of immune boosters, your breast milk is all topped up with it, ready for action. I think it’s so cool that premature babies moms can produce milk that is just right for them – containing MORE calories, protein, sodium and all that other good stuff that they need. Makes you say WOW, right?Baby kisses changes your milk
So this is one that I enjoyed reading about: kissing your baby will help to boost their immune system! In a nutshell, when you smooch your little one, you sample or pick up pathogens on your kid’s skin, which is transferred to your lymphatic system. This is where you produce antibodies. The antibodies are then passed on to your baby via your breast milk. Ta daaaaa!!! So basically you’re a mommy ninja, knocking germs out one smooch at a time. I know, right?.It’s good for you too
Did you know that the longer a woman breastfeeds, the lower her risk becomes of getting ovarian and breast cancer, heart disease, and osteoporosis. I also read that breastfeeding helps your body to recover from pregnancy and childbirth more quickly. And yes, that may include weight loss. Currently: Feeding my baby and waiting around for my Baywatch beach bod to appear in a poof of smoke.There’s a bunch of other amazing facts about breastfeeding and breast milk over on these websites: Beautiful Breastfeeding and Conservamom.
Happy Breastfeeding Week to you, Super Mom!
Disclaimer: I do believe that “FED is best” and I salute all those moms who have powered through formula feeds because that in itself holds a lot of challenges, so big ups to you. But this week is in celebration of World Breastfeeding Week Aug 1 – 7, so mention must be given to those who have chosen to breastfeed.
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Why being a mother sucks sometimes
Being a mother sucks. What? You don’t agree? Wait, maybe I wasn’t being clear: You know all the amazing parts of being someones mom? Stuff like hearing them call you “mama” for the first time and being able to snuggle up next to them as you read Good night, Mouse for the umpteenth time? Well, those things seem extremely over-rated when you’re exhausted after having to change your bedding (thanks to a massive squirt of newborn poop) and then have to referee an argument between a 2-year old and a 15-year old about who gets to sit on the “big couch”. Oh, hi there, excuse me where are my manners. My name is Luchae Williams and I am the proud
ownermother of one newborn, one toddler, step-mom to one primary schooler and mom to one extremely opinionated highschooler. Mental status: Currently losing my mind.I know, I know, I can hear what you’re thinking. And allow me to reiterate: I DO love my children and I am aware that there are hundreds of women who would give actual limbs to be in my position. But hey, sometimes being mom means keeping it real. And the reality is that my kids drive me crazy! Like “Gone Girl” crazy. Like shaving my hair off ala Britney Spears crazy.
Do your kids make you want to go to the toilet to just sit there, and enjoy the silence? Welcome, friend! Do you often find yourself thinking “oh, just go away!” with a smile on your face, while listening to another boring story about soccer? I see you, girlfriend! Have you ever dreamt about your life pre-children, with stars in your eyes and longing in your heart? I feel your pain, Jane! Does feeling this way make us bad people? Uhhh, nope. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. Being a parent is not easy and if you think about it, no one asked us to be superhuman. Why do we put so much pressure on ourselves?
You know the saying about kids being your heart on the outside of your body? Well that’s the truest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I’m old… so I’ve heard a lot of things in my life. The thing is, children trick you. They make you believe that you’re going to fall pregnant, or find that perfect adoption agency, or marry that guy, and suddenly be Super Parent… in a land filled with domesticated sunshine and roses and finger painting parties in the backyard. You chat about a future that holds sleepless nights, more expenses and less time for yourself and you actually think that you’re READY for it. But truth be told, you’re never really ready.And once that kid is there, in your world, in living color. Oh boy! There is no. turning. back. You are in it for life! Nothing else will be more important ever again. You find yourself semi-moaning (okay in this case alot-of-moaning) about how your kids tire you out and steal your time but the truth is, you don’t want and can’t see a life without them. And no amount of sleep or glitzy career moves or toned abdominal muscles will EVER come close to the way you feel when they call you mama for the first time or when you’re snuggled up reading Good night, Mouse for the umpteenth time.
You become vulnerable… all your mushy parts exposed… living life with your heart on the outside of your body, in tiny human form. And if you’re a spreadsheet brain like I am, you’ll probably think that being a mom sucks too because it feels SO good to belong to them… to be so weak and yet so strong. It’s beautiful and scary and empowering and so very humbling all at the same time.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s worth it.
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Recovery after birth: how to stay sane
Whether you’re a first time mom or a ‘last time mom’, like me, the first few weeks after giving birth are usually very challenging. I know what you’re thinking: “What?! Is it not enough that I carried this kid around for nine months and then went through a very physical labour that resulted in me exposing more of my mind, body and soul than I care to?!” Okay, calm down, Patricia. Yes, post-birth can be just as challenging as the actual labour was. But it doesn’t have to be. I’ve found a few simple things that has really helped to make my recovery after birth more comfortable. -
Inducing labour: My birth story
As far as these things go, I’ve always considered myself pretty expert at giving birth. My first two deliveries were quick and easy and yes, there was pain, but I could handle it to the point that I laughed through most of the contractions. Literally, laughed. But the birth of my son, last Thursday was way different. I think that inducing labour played a big role in that. But hey, let’s start at the beginning:
The beginning
My doc knew that I was super keen to give natural birth. I was convinced that Jonah would practically walk out of my womb, so to speak. But my last gynae visit showed us a very big Jonah and he didn’t seem too eager to make an appearance anytime soon. Given the fact that I was a few days away from my due date, my doc suggested that we induce labour. I mean, the kid was growing each day! There was also the concern about him being too big for my pelvis and all the other medical mumbo jumbo that made sense. I asked doc for a week to try to get things going myself. If nothing happened, we would be back the following Wednesday.Inducing labour at home
And so the semi freak out began – I was determined to get labour started naturally! I even blogged about it over here, if you recall. Some of my concerns about a chemical induction was just that: It would be CHEMICAL. When you give birth naturally, your body releases certain hormones that makes it easier to do what it needs to do. It also helps you to handle the pain of childbirth. A chemical induction overrides all of this and is therefore more painful. Also, it could speed up the labour process which is not always a good thing, thus resulting in a C-Sec. And hey, there is nothing wrong with giving birth via Cesarean, but it was not what I wanted for me and my baby. Anyways, so I tried to induce labour at home but nothing seemed to be working! Finally, my Hubstopher grabbed me by the hands and gave me a good ol’ pep talk – “everything will be fine!” I decided to enjoy my last few days of pregnancy, because you know what, life is too short to do squats with a nearly 4kg baby boy lodged in your belly!Induction day
Finally Wednesday arrived – the day of the hospital induction. We packed bags and kissed our kids goodbye (which is another blog post for another day). I prayed and remembered all the things that I had learnt from the book that I had been reading – Supernatural Childbirth by Jackie Mize. The book speaks about how God has designed our female bodies to form human life and give birth, naturally and successfully! I believed all of those promises for this birth. Once at the hospital, the nurse checked and saw that I was 1cm dilated. They decided to give it a night to monitor me and see if things will progress naturally. I watched TV, read alot, ate Macdonalds (no judgies) and a couple of hours later I had nothing to report. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. I woke up the following morning feeling like a loser. Jonah was meant to be here already!Don’t go chasing waterfalls
The doc decided to induce me at 9am that Thursday morning by way of Pitocin – a synthetic form of the hormone Oxytocin. In a nutshell, Oxy is your friend… it’s the hormone that makes your uterus contract and spurs on labour. Pito is the chemical version of this wonder hormone – it stimulates the uterus. It’s usually given to moms by way of vagina, orally or via an IV. Sometimes, it’s administered all three ways, in various stages of labour. My doc chose the former option and said that she might not even give it to me orally because she thinks it would be enough to get labour going. And she was right. I spent most of the day on the bouncy ball, to get baby moving in the right direction. My doctor came to see me at 12ish and at this point my contractions were mild. She then ruptured my membranes (aka “waters breaking”) and I am pleased to say that I finally had my TV moment. My waters came out in a gush instead of the trickle-trickle I had experienced with my previous two pregnancies. I laughed, and continued to laugh each time I had a contraction because the gushing did. not. stop. I’m talking “somebody left the tap open!” gushing waters. It was a good sign, apparently.Ish gets real
At 4pm the doc decided to administer Oxytocin via IV. This is meant to encourage the uterus to contract and let me tell you, the minute the hormone hit my blood stream, the contractions were super duper intense. I remembered everything that I had read in Supernatural Childbirth though. Every contraction is literally the muscles in my tummy doing it’s job to get my baby boy out. So that’s what I focused on, and I did it rather well, to the point where I heard my nurse tell the doc that I am “comfortable” and won’t be giving birth anytime soon. I had to call her and let her know that I am definitely NOT comfortable and I WILL be giving birth soon and she needs to check me to see for herself! She did and yup I was nearly fully dilated. She was totally shocked at my lack of dramatic screaming but I had peace and knew how to channel my energy into focusing on each contraction and not on the pain.I need to push!
At 6pm I told her that I need to push, she told me it would probably take me another hour and half to reach that point. But the Oxytocin had really kicked it and it made my contractions totally unbearable, so I asked her to switch it off because I knew that my body could do the rest without any help. We had to walk from the labour room to the delivery room and guys, I stopped halfway (yes, in the passage) because I needed to push! I got a bit dramatic over there (sorry other ladies, within earshot, who still needed to give birth) and the nurse stood behind me ready to catch baby Jo, just in case he fell out. He didn’t fall out, fortunately, and I made it to the delivery room with everything still intact.Jonah is born!
Once on that delivery table there was no holding back… and I got pretty vocal. Jo was born in a couple of minutes and yep, it hurt like crazy! Compared to my other kids, he was a big baby at 3.9 kg. My Hubstopher cried and laughed at the same time. I was just really glad that it was finally over! The rush of emotions (considering the fact that I had zero pain medication, I can’t even blame the drugs) made me say a lot of crazy things while my doc was taking care of my episiotomy. I remember babbling a bunch of things like “Oh wow, why do women go through this? I blame Eve!” and “Doc, I’m so sorry for being so loud but that was very hectic!” and (while addressing the nursing staff) “Guys, I’m so glad that is over!”Jonah Mark Williams is perfect in every way. He looks like his daddy and has a calm disposition. His big sister loves him already! He latched on immediately, like a pro, and had his first “milk drunk” moment yesterday – super cute! I am totally inlove with him! Thank you to everyone for your sweet messages and prayers. And I am so thankful that God once again showed us exactly how He has His hand on our lives… especially when we are NOT in control.
