I can honestly say I was terrified now. This wasnt part of the plan, I’d had a ‘textbook’ pregnancy, it was all supposed to go smoothly and now I faced the prospect that something bad could happen if I didn’t get my baby out NOW and I just didn’t have the strength to do it anymore.
While they prepped me and themselves more contractions came and the doctor was telling me, actually she was shouting at me to ‘push push push push push, you aren’t pushing hard enough, keep going keep going keep going’. I almost got him there every time but then he just kept going back. It was like something was holding him back.
‘Allegedly’ they gave me a local anesthetic before making an incision. But, there was no chance to scream or even cry, a contraction came again and I was made to push with everything I had and more, while they attached the ventouse cap.
I remember the doctor looking at me after she’d attached the cap and told me he had a lovely head of dark hair! That was the determination that I needed right there, I wanted to see my baby!! The last contraction I would ever feel came without warning and as I pushed, she pulled. There his little head was out. I could just make out his little head before I was ordered to push again.
At 12.40 am after 42 very long hours of labour, Wriggler was born.
He was delivered straight onto my chest. He was perfect. So perfect. I can remember stroking his little head while Hubby cut the cord. He nearly slipped off me at one point though but my Mum was there and managed to stop him. There was no big screaming cry from Wriggler though, just little gruntling sobbing sounds (they said it was because he had a little fluid on his lungs).
He was then taken to be wiped clean and swaddled up before being given back to us for some precious cuddles.
Wriggler tipped the scales at a very healthy 6lb 14oz and this was when his ‘not so little’ lungs showed us their real potential.
I can honestly say I don’t remember much else the midwives did, apart from stitch me up. That bit I DO remember, in quite graphic detail too. You see I had a student midwife and whilst she was great during the labour and delivery, she’d never stitched anyone up before. Sooooo, they got a surgeon from theatre to come and show her. Whilst puffing away on the gas and air continuously, the tens machine going, gripping Hubbys hand, (again they ‘allegedly’ gave me another local anesthetic) I felt every tug nip and stitch, while getting a stitch by stitch account of what to sew where!
While all that was happening, Wriggler had precious cuddles with his adoring doting Nannan.
We spent the remaining few hours we had together on our own bonding with our little man. Wriggler got hungry and had his first feed from me. Which felt just as amazing as pushing him into the world. Before we knew it though, Hubby and my Mum were asked to leave so I could get some rest. Not that I needed it because by this point (4am) I was buzzing.
On my own all I could do was cuddle and look at my little Wriggler. I fed him again and then got showered. While I was in the shower he cried and cried and cried. Then all of a sudden he stopped. Heart pounding away thinking someone had come in and taken him, I came out of the shower room to see him awake in his cot and content. On the radio was ‘his song’, 50 Cent, P.I.M.P. (‘His’ song came about when in the car one day, music turned up, that song came on and he wriggled about non stop till it finished. Then everytime we played it, he did the same thing, before long I played to him all the time and he seemed to really like it). He must have recognised the song when it came on the radio and calmed him with it being a familiar noise because when it finished, the crying came back instantly!!
As he got older, he used to dance (bounce up and down on the spot) to ‘his song’ when ever we put it on.
Now at eight years old when we play it, he stops whatever he is doing, turns and smiles instantly. He has no idea why but me and Hubby know and it always makes us smile too 🙂