Becoming a Mummy
“I want to call him Archie!” These are the words I shouted to the midwife standing in my hallway as she handed notes over to the team of paramedics. My son was going to hospital without me.
This week marks 7 years since I became a Mummy. I want to share with you a little bit about that journey to becoming a Mum.
I always had it in my mind that I’d get married, then have babies. Just really simple, that’s what would happen. I don’t think anything truly prepares you for the reality. I’m aware that sometimes this does happen but not for us. Whilst we were planning our wedding I decided I wanted to come off of the pill, I desperately wanted my body to be ready! What followed was at times just totally devastating and nothing could have really prepared me for it.
A couple of months pill free and suddenly I was just in so much pain when the time of the month came. I had to take time off work where I’d sit in a ball on my sofa, this couldn’t be right. My Dr decided to rule things out like stds – cue me being paranoid! I remember my Dr calling me, I was home alone. He said he suspected endometriosis – I had no idea what this was. He went on to say that he was really sorry but this could cause issues with fertility. I’d have to await a hospital appointment. I put down the phone and just sobbed. I’d always wanted a family, they were just devastating words to hear. How was this happening to me?
My consultant appointment came and I was completely full of dread. By this point I’d obviously read a lot online! I was examined whilst holding the hand of a nurse and crying. Thankfully he told me that he also suspected it but that he felt it was a mild case. I was left to go home and told to see what happens when the time came to try for a baby. Of course this meant I didn’t want to wait long!
A couple of months after our honeymoon we had a positive test! I honestly couldn’t believe it, we were fine! Only it wasn’t. This baby wasn’t Archie, this baby didn’t grow. We found out just 3 days before our planned 12 week scan. Honestly I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sad in my life, I can’t even describe the pain, it just engulfed me. It was all consuming, I couldn’t talk about anything else, I couldn’t think about the future and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I cried and cried and cried until maybe I had no tears left and just sat there numb. I’d stare at the walls, I’d look around our spare bedroom at the items we’d bought already, the teddy on the shelf. I had to close the door to that room and it took me a few weeks to go back in there. The wondering used to just eat me up, what they would’ve looked like, why it happened. Did I do something wrong? Would I ever be able to have a baby?
“I’m sorry Mrs Everett, all I can find is an empty sack.”
Even nearly 8 years later I hear those words. I honestly thought that was how our lives would be. No babies.
3 months later we again saw the words pregnant! I jumped up into my husbands arms, whacking my foot on the loo in the process! It was a second chance but it brought with it so so much worry. We paid for an early scan, I longed for the words “there’s a heartbeat.” And there he was, our amazing and beautiful rainbow. His heart was fluttering away, his tiny little nubs for arms and legs. Just perfect and completely precious.
A planned home birth
I decided that if everything went smoothly I’d like to have him at home. Some people couldn’t quite believe it but we were really happy with that choice. I got to term and all was perfect – I was getting my home birth! We gathered old towels and I packed a very small emergency bag. Then I went past my edd and there were talks of sweeps and induction. Induction meant the end of my home birth plans! On the date of my induction, 12 days overdue, I had a phone call first thing to say they couldn’t fit me in and I squealed with happiness! The midwife said this certainly wasn’t the reaction of the other ladies she’d called – but this gave me another chance!
He was born at home 2 weeks past my edd and I was over the moon. He was given to me but there was no crying. His head tilted back, he wasn’t nusling into me. Before I knew it he had an oxygen mask on and I could hear sirens coming our way. Had we really got this far only to loose it all? I couldn’t even cry, I was numb again. He was whisked away and I had just enough time to name him. We followed in another ambulance. I didn’t get to see him for 4 hours. Part of that was being stitched, part of it was me not knowing what to do or what I should be doing. I thought I’d be at home with a baby on my chest.
Our first Mother and Son photo…
He was of course completely fine. He was off all his tubes apart from a heart monitor by the next morning. I sat there in the still of night stroking his eyebrows. I was relieved. He was OK. I was so sad that his first feeds were through a tube but it’s what kept him alive on those first 24 hours. I’m so proud that we went on to breastfeed until his first birthday when I was 3 months pregnant with his brother Luke!
It certainly wasn’t an easy ride but it’s part of my journey into Motherhood and part of what makes me who I am.
So to my darling Archie as you’re about to turn 7 – thank you for making me a Mummy! You are just the kindest boy and I am so proud to be your Mum.
I guess my reason for sharing this is to say that there is hope when you feel there is none. When there are crazy dark days you are not alone. I know some of you have been through or are currently having a rough ride – it takes great strength and it’s so consuming. We all have our struggles and each one of us deals with our pain in our own ways. Misscariage should never be a taboo subject, it’s part of my journey to Motherhood and I still cry. Not nearly as often of course but sometimes it hits me and the sobbing can be uncontrollable. It’s a painful time both mentally and physically.
We have had a very happy ending with 3 amazing children. All of them have had their ambulance rides and worried us beyond belief through various illnesses. Motherhood and the journey to Motherhood are things that will continue to amaze me. The strength of the women I meet astounds me. But remember it’s OK to also not have it together, to cry and hate the world, because it is utterly heartbreaking at times.