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OK, so it wasn’t exactly the other day, it was back in January. After a full,long week of trying to conceive, we were successful! Ha, who would have thought hat it would have taken so long! I feel we were very lucky, after reading some stories about how people try for years to conceive and nothing, and then us, one week of trying and hey presto.
My pregnancy was pretty easy. I didn’t bother blogging about it as I didn’t want to be one of those stereotypical pregnant lady bloggers “hey all you pregnant ladies out there, whats with the aching back? and don’t even get me started on my swollen feet, MY POOR SWOLLEN, ACHING FEET”. See, you should thank me that i spared you. You are welcome.
Now back to the story. So after a week of trying to conceive we stopped, and then a few weeks later I had a feeling that I was pregnant. I confronted my husband and he was all like “That’s impossible, we haven’t even been trying for that long”, “are you sure its mine”, I am just kidding, he didn’t really ask if it was his, although at the time i think that that probably would have justified a kick in the nuts. No Leany, that would have been wrong. You should never kick a man in the crotch onions. Its wrong……..or is it? How come you never hear a guy say, “That’s it, i am so going to kick you in the vagina”, better still, have you ever even heard of anyone deliberately getting kicked in the vagina? Oh no, it seems that I have said vagina on the internet. I hope I don’t break it, I am sure its not used to such words. VAGINA VAGINA VAGINA
Back to the story. So four home pregnancy tests later, all signs are pointing to pregnant. I cry, smoke last cigarette, we move on.
For the first 12 weeks, I thought i was going to die. Seriously if you had have asked me “so Leany, how are you feeling right now” I would have said “I am GOING TO DIE, here let me kick you in the nuts”. After that it was pretty smooth sailing.
Around the 14th of January which was a Wednesday, they decided that if nothing had happened by the Monday that they would induce me. I swore that child was determined to have his 21st birthday up in there. Now that would have been an awkward birthday party!
So Thursday come and goes and then Friday the 16th rocks around and HOORAY I THINK I AM IN LABOUR. So its bullshit hot, like i am talking at least 32 degrees c and I am in labour. It starts at about 5.30. I put the aircon on in the bedroom, send my husband out to watch a few episodes of Stargate and get on with it. Between taking showers and staying in the aircon I lasted about 6 hours before he gets scared that i am going to have the baby RIGHT NOW and we both decided to go to the hospital.
At the hospital we check in etc etc and they show me directly to the birthing suite. DIRECTLY. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200. And I am all like why, we have plenty of time, there mustn’t be any other rooms left. As things progress, and after some gas (not from me, from a machine, special medical gas) I decide that i would like to go for an Epidural. I discuss it with the Husband, and he is all like “If that’s what helps me get feeling back into the tips of my fingers, I’m all in”. We ask the midwife and then she pops off to organise it. She takes what feels like 17
