Until Now I Had No Idea!
At the end of the most surreal week of my life, crowded with a myriad of thoughts, feelings & emotions that need to be expressed, blogging seems like the most logical thing to do (at 5am on a Monday morning). It’s been almost a week since my little one was born and I had no idea that my life could be so blessed (even though this little angel took her mother on a hard road to get here)…
Through my pregnancy & childbirth I’ve wondered why there are so many things that us women don’t know about. Things that we don’t tell each other. The yukky stuff. The embarrassing stuff. The painful stuff. And I’m not at all talking about the cliches that we see in movies. I’m talking about the things that YOU (unless you’ve had a baby) don’t know. My original plan for this blog was to ‘shed some light’, so that the next woman who has a baby won’t be shocked to learn that every midwife that enters her room will ask “can I check your pad?” (SAY WHAT NOW??!!)
But as I’ve jumped on here to document my labour horror story (and yes, we all have one) I’ve realised why no one talks about it. I’ve realised why us women don’t feel the need to elaborate on the gross aspects. Why we don’t tell each other what labour contractions really feel like… The reason why we don’t is quite simple… We’ve forgotten. Or more to the point… It doesn’t matter!!
I find it so amazing that Stephen and I have created another being. A tiny little human being that will walk the earth as we have done. A pair of feet that will forge their own way one day. A pair of feet that will make footprints in the sand. A pair of feet that will run and play and fall. A pair of feet that will one day wear high heels. A human being!…
It seems so hard to believe.
Until now, my life has always been about me. Just me. My goals. My dreams. My desires. Others have been in my life, but never entirely in my heart… The love that I feel for her is impossible to describe. As I watch her sleep I whisper to her to have happy dreams and to pass her bad ones to me. Almost every minute of the day I find myself stroking her face and telling her how beautiful she is. I have no idea how many times I have kissed her face, her head, her neck. If she’s uncomfortable, I rock her in my arms for as long as it takes, ignoring the pains in my back and my belly. I keep her close to me, having daytime naps together on the couch, her head to my chest, her ear to my heart.
So as I start to type, wanting to let you in on all the difficulties of childbirth, I realise that all I can think about is that petite little face that was, less than half an hour ago, attached to my breast making soft little grunts of contentment. Those tiny little hands that grip my finger, my hair, my clothes, my heart. That warm, round little tummy with the sticky out belly button. Those strong little legs that kick, kick, kick. That soft hair tickling my lips, my chin, my cheek as this little one snuggles into my neck. And those feet. Oh my golly gosh. Those tiny little feet.