Thoughts on becoming a stay-at-home-mum

I have been wanting to write this post for a while now and had a few of the sentences floating round in my head.  Now I have come to finally write it I am finding my phrases imperfect and not truly reflecting the emotions I have been through over the past year, however I have gone ahead and written some words, imperfect as they are to try to describe where I am now in my life, I am sorry they aren't flowing and poetic, but I hope they show truth and I guess that's the most important thing.  I hope you can forgive me...I am tired!
On the 31st of January I officially completed my last day of maternity leave and became a full time stay at home mum (although I have to say there isn't an awful lot of staying at home involved!) I went into my school to hand in my keys and access card and say bye to the other teachers in my department, as I left school I felt a range of emotions, from sadness at leaving my job, my fellow teachers and my pupils, to joy and relief that I wasn't going to have to leave my baby boy with a nursery or child-minder, and I would get to do what I have always dreamed of, bring up my own baby and being a mum.  It wasn't an easy decision to make, losing one income in our house means making cutbacks in our daily living, lots of compromises and penny pinching.  I also have a strange shadow of a feeling of losing part of myself somehow.  I don't relish the thought of not being employed, particularly not having my own money but also losing a substantial part of my identity, teaching art is part of who I am and I am not going to have that any more, I certainly feel like I am losing a small amount of independence, it's something I am still getting my head around, but trying to accept that I have a new job now, the most wonderful and important job I will ever and could ever do.
As I drove home, my little mad sleeping in the back, Lady GaGa on the CD player, I reflected on the past year, on the highs and lows and on what a challenging year it has been.  As well as the most wonderful experiences and emotions, at times I have also felt broken, torn apart, vulnerable and insecure.  It has definitely been the hardest year of my life.  And as stressful and frustrating as teaching has been at times nothing has compared to how hard it is being a parent.  I used to think it was hard work being a teacher, going to work every day, teaching unappreciative children, working long hours, often thankless and sometimes depressing, but I didn't know anything!  I didn't have a clue about how hard life could be until I became a parent. Giving birth has defiantly scarred me, it broke me open, both physically and emotionally and I am still recovering.  Looking after a tiny baby who doesn't...can't thank you, the breastfeeding, the wakeful nights, the feeling of desperation when your precious baby is crying and nothing...nothing seems to make him feel better.  The hours I spent walking in circles around the green opposite my house soothing him to sleep in the carrier, these are all just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to actually looking after a baby. 
And I now have so so much admiration for my parents, my mother particularly, and mothers everywhere.  To me there really is nothing harder than being pregnant, giving birth and being a mother.  I can't even being to imagine how hard it must be for women who desperately want to stay home with their babes and for financial reasons they have to go back to work, I know how lucky I am that statying at home was an option for me.  And don't get me wrong, I chose it, I wanted it, it was, is a dream that for a long time I never thought would come true.  And I LOVE it.
On Monday my gorgeous boy turns one and I will reflect on the day my life changed forever and do you know what, we may not have much money but I couldn't be happier. And I can't wait to continue sharing my life with you, hopefully more frequently in future even if I am clumsy with my words and stumble on my phrasing, I have found writing this blog helpful in enabling me to reflect on life, so as sparse as it is sometimes, I still love it.

Is he gorgeous or what??

My birth story

Orren is now nearly 3 weeks old (oh my gosh the time has flown) and I am starting to come to terms with the most emotional, painful and wonderful experience I have ever gone through.  I still find it hard to recall the really awful moments, but am ready to share the cold hard facts of his birth, sorry if you find some of this to be too much information, but it is part of my story, please just skip it if you find anything offensive. 
It all began on the Thursday before the Saturday when he arrived.  mother nature gave me a little taster of what contractions would be like by giving me cramps every five minutes throughout the whole day, just mild contractions that lasted about 10 seconds.  They felt a bit like when you get trapped wind.   By the evening they had stopped and I had nothing all day Friday.  Then I woke up at about 7.00 am on Saturday morning and had to rush to the loo because I had diarrhea. Went back to bed but had to go back to the loo a few minutes later with the same feeling, this time found that my mucus plug had gone, and while I was on the toilet my waters broke.  I called my husband and we rang the hospital.  The hospital was doubtful that my waters had broken (apparently 80% of women who think their waters have broken have just weed themselves)  so I was told to put in a pad and wait two hours.  Well I filled several pads as my waters kept breaking (that's something they don't show in the films)  so we decided to go straight into hospital and not wait the recommended two hours.
On the drive to the hospital I really felt that Orren had lost the liquid that he was suspended in and he seemed to lurch from one side of my tummy to the other on bends.
When we arrived at the hospital I was examined and found to be 8cm dilated, I was so glad because the contractions were getting stronger and I wondered how I could cope if I still had hours to go.  We were taken straight into a delivery room, it was too late for my dream of a water birth.
Once in the delivery room the midwife checked Orren's heart rate, it was a little slow, but nothing to worry about at that point.  I was on my knees with the head of the bed raised and my arms resting on the head of the bed.
The contractions got stronger, and it began feeling like I had no control any more of my body, the cramps flung my body backwards as I gripped the back of the bed.  It was much more painful that I had expected and I sobbed through a lot of the labour moaning about how much it hurt to my husband while he held the gas and air mouth piece and rubbed my back.
The midwife told me to try not to push if I got the urge but whenever I had a contraction my body pushed and I couldn't help it.  I asked her if it would be much longer so she checked me and I was fully dilated except for a small lip of cervix, so not long after that I was able to start pushing.
After some time the baby was not progressing, with each push his head came down a little but then went back up again in between, also his heart rate had slowed and there was merconium (baby's first poo) in the waters which meant he might be distressed, so they asked me to turn over onto my back.
I pressed my chin into my chest and pushed with all my might till I was red in the face and gradually he started moving down, I sobbed after each push saying that I couldn't push any more, it seemed I came to the end of my push and the midwife was still saying "keep pushing".  The midwife wanted to get him out quicker than my body was able to so performed an episiotamy, as she made the cut his head came out, his arm was up by his ear which cased a labial tear which was quite honestly the most painful thing ever, then on the next contraction his body slithered out and he was placed on my chest.  I felt such immense relief that he was out and it was over, he was beautiful, perfect and pink.  His breathing was a little slow so he was taken to the resuscitaire for some oxygen.  Then returned to me for another cuddle.  I felt like I could never ever do it again, but that it definitely was worth it.  Holding my baby in my arms was and is just the most wonderful thing imaginable, and I have a new found respect for mothers and parents generally that have gone through this. There is nothing like it, and nothing can prepare you for it.
Now the real adventure begins!