Effing Paracetamol?!

I thought I’d be pregnant/sick forever or at least 2 years, as long as an elephant. The closer I got to my due date I realised that my baby now had to head towards the exit 😳. I didn’t need a big hospital bag, just 2 trusty friends I liked to call prednisolone and ondansetron! Like Bumble Bee and Optimus Prime from Transformers 😄.

At every visit to my GP I asked “will the sickness go once the baby is born?”. I always got the same reply, “it should, it usually does”. I had been the worst case of pregnancy sickness my GP had seen. He always seemed hesitant in his reply so I was never convinced. I wanted a guarantee, something in writing, a gift receipt!

Saturday 22nd of September 2012. That evening myself, my husband, my mum and my dad went out for dinner for my husband’s birthday (which was 24th September). We went to The Dores Inn, a favourite of ours. The road to get out there is pretty windy and my dad can be somewhat of an eratic driver. I joked that his driving was enough to put me in to labour. Little did I know a few hours later I’d be bouncing on a gym ball in the maternity ward thinking “did that midwife really just offer me effing paracetamol”? I would have appreciated a tranquilliser dart much more.

The further I got in to my pregnancy I asked my mum “how will I know I’m in labour?”. Her reply was a blunt “you’ll just know”. She was right, by god I knew! Anyway, after a nice meal (well, me picking at something on my plate) the usual Saturday ritual commenced: Match of The Day for my husband, bed for me. A few hours later I went in to labour.

Lots of people had said to me that I’d had such a terrible pregnancy I was bound to have an easy labour. This has been added to the long list of lies I was fed over those 9 months! Things were going as they should. My husband watched the clock until the canteen opened and he could get a bacon roll. He needed his strength after all 😳. Give it another hour and she’d be here, easy as pie?

Hour after hour passed. In my delirious state I was apparently singing along to Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on The Ceiling” on the radio. I have no recollection of this but do know I was far from dancing on any ceiling. I do remember that I told my husband if I ended up mooing like a cow like they do on One Born Every Minute then he could hit me right between the eyes.

Anyway, missing out some details that don’t need to be shared things took a turn for the worst. They needed to get my baby out really quickly so had to knock me out (not with a club like in The Flintstones). Like in films the last thing I remember is a mask being put over my face. I’m guessing it was fairy gas, like when you were little and went for work at the dentist! When I was being wheeled in to theatre I saw my husband in the distance and thought “where the hell are you going, for lunch?!”. We both later found out that he wasn’t allowed in because I’d had to be knocked out. As far as he was aware he was waiting to be taken in to see his baby being born! He could have actually gone for lunch 😄.

An hour or so later, when I came round, I met my beautiful baby girl. Elle Dawn Brittain was born at 1531hrs on Sunday 23rd September. She was born the day before her Dad’s birthday, my birthday present to him if you will! I’m in credit for a VERY LONG TIME!!

I was a mum ❤.

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