Welcome happy girl

Two days ago I hit an all time low, I sobbed to Anthony and told him that I am worried about myself. Two days ago I said some words out loud that totally shocked me, words that I was ashamed to say and yet, so very relieved to let out. Two days ago I admitted to my "real life" world that it is all getting too much and that I am not sure how many more days I can survive without walking away. Two days ago was one of the darkest, yet one of the lightest days of my entire Mothering journey.

Thankfully, on this particular day, we had a night in the city planned. We were due to see P!nk and spend a night away from the kids. By the time we were due to leave home, I really just did not want to go. I felt like disappearing beneath my covers, not to resurface for a good couple of days. But, I did go and I am so very thankful that I did!

Not only did I have an amazing night, enjoy a spectacular show and have a sleep-in, but I left Zalia behind with no expressed milk and therefore she spent 24 hours on formula. My night in the city turned out to be a true blessing. It refuelled me, gave me the strength to come home and fight another day, rested my weary mind and uplifted my spirits. I came home, ready to take on my screaming baby. But she is yet to scream. Last night, Anthony and I noticed just how happy she was and put it down to no breast milk. So, in that moment we decided to trial our theory and see if she remained happy today if I continued the formula. 

Yesterday as we sat down to lunch on Sydney's Harbour a couple walked in with their baby, who would have been the same age as Zalia. For a moment I seriously considered leaving, as I deal with a screaming child every day but this day was meant to be my day off. I quickly shut down those thoughts, as I knew as a Mum, that I would be heartbroken and feel horribly judged if someone did that to me. So I stayed and gritted my teeth in preparation. Only, that child never once screamed, he barely made a sound. I commented to Anthony about how unusual that is. 

Today, I have learnt that this young baby was not unusual, he was normal and now my Zalia seems to be normal too. I had become so accustomed to the constant screaming that I began to believe that this was how babies behave. I had stopped attending Evelyn's social events because it was too hard. I didn't go to the shops. I didn't go anywhere that anyone would hear me, where anyone would look at me. With those eyes full of pity, of judgement, of shame. Those eyes became unbearable and my broken spirit just could not take any more.

But today has been different. Today I don't feel like burying myself beneath the covers. Today I don't feel like walking out the door with out turning back. Today I feel light... and, should I dare say it, happy!

There has not been one single scream. There has not been a battle to sleep. There has been no tears. There has been no cranky baby. In her place, is this placid, happy and super content little girl who is almost unrecognisable to me. She has slept her morning nap. She played and danced through Evelyn's music class. She slept in the pram while her Sister and I went shopping. She didn't protest when being put into the car. She went to sleep in just seconds for her afternoon nap. She has smiled and laughed. She has played and talked. She is becoming the happy, beautiful little girl that I only saw mere glimpses of before today. 

I spoke to my Paediatrician and explained to her the situation and she was just so excited for me and by the end of that conversation I made the final decision to no longer breast feed my baby. It is far earlier than I had planned for, than I had hoped for. But, as I learnt while trying to breastfeed Evelyn, sometimes breast is just not the answer. I have successfully been able to breastfeed my baby for 5 and a half months. I have been able to breast feed when previously I could not. For 7 months of pregnancy I walked around with a suction cap on my nipple to break my physical hurdle and I did it. I fought for something that was extremely important and I have made myself so proud.

But, now it is time to say goodbye to breastfeeding and say hello to my beautiful, happy and content darling baby Zalia. Its time to say goodbye to feeding but hello to my happiness. I am sad to loose that intimacy and that connection but I am so excited about moving forward and being able to live our lives as a happy family of four. Rather than a broken one. I am so excited about no longer crumbling to pieces, no longer feeling like I am a failure and no longer feeling like I am letting my entire family down. 

This is the beginning of the rest of our lives!

One more scream...

I am not coping.

There, I said it. 
I have sat here for days trying to write this post. I fluff about avoiding those words, filling my paragraphs of stories and theories that do not actually confront the issue at hand. Then I delete it. Then I try again. Then I delete it. But I have decided today to just start with those words.

I am struggling.

Not only am I not coping, I am not coping with the fact that I am not coping. I wanted my family to grow so desperately and I love my family desperately and yet I sit here with a chest full of tension. A head full of fear. A heavy heart. How can it be possible to crave this, to love this and yet... resent this, somewhat? How totally hypocritical of me.

Five months ago I welcomed my second born Daughter, the second time in my life I have ever witnessed beauty such as hers. The second time in my life I have delivered into the world a being that I know will change the world. The second time in my life that my heart swelled with such magnitude that I could feel it bursting. Five months ago I was strong and capable and powerful. 

For the past five months I have tried to grasp those attributes as tight as humanly possible. The strength, the capability, the power. I want to be that woman. But she has slowly been slipping away from me and today I felt them disappear. I no longer feel capable, or strong or powerful. 

The last few weeks especially I have been questioning my ability as a Mother. I know I love my children, I adore them. They have made life something that I never could have dreamed it to be. But am I good enough for them? Am I strong enough to hold together through another scream? Another night? Am I powerful enough to pull us all through this?

The last several weeks I have felt my head aching with the tension, the hairs on my skin are standing on edge. My spine is riddled with the quivers and my chest is tight with anxiety. I am losing my breath and I am losing clarity. I am losing touch with my inner core, that safe place that I usually revert to when the world is spinning uncontrollably. My inner core is spinning even faster, I am dizzy.

Five months ago the most beautiful baby girl that ever possibly existed was born. She was born and placed into my arms. She looked at me with her big steely blue, soon to be deep brown eyes. Then she screamed and she hasn't stopped screaming. For five months I have listened to her in pain, I have watched her writhe and arch. I have watched her and I have been powerless. Her pain is my pain. For five months I have crumbled because I just cannot make it any better for her.

I cannot get her to sleep, I cannot get her to feed enough to satisfy her. We pass thrush back and forth between each other. My body becomes possessed by the infection that is mastitis. I cannot sleep. She screams and I cry. I beg for her to stop screaming. Then I beg her to forgive me. With every scream I can feel that little dial wind up a little more. With every scream I know my jack in a box is about to pop screaming and laughing at me. 

One more scream.

I am desperate to be the Mother to my children that they deserve. I am desperate to be able to withstand that scream. That scream that makes my skin crawl and my eyes fill with the heaviest tears. For five months I have felt each layer of strength be peeled away from me and I know I am down to my final layers.

Perhaps these final layers are the strongest? The most revealing? Perhaps these final layers are where my strength has been hiding. Because, today, when the screaming had not stopped for hours, when my baby had not slept since morning, when I had packed my children into the car, again, in search of some silence. I found myself just moments away from stopping the car and getting out just to find escape the noise. Yet, I chose, in that very moment, to stay and to do something different.

In that moment I decided that yes, I am not coping. I decided that it was time to say the words out loud. I can no longer keep this secret and I need help. In that moment, where my body was about to take over my mind I realised just how desperate I am. It is time. So today, I have requested the referral that Zalia's paediatrician has been pushing on to me and once I have that piece of paper I will be begging tresillian to take me.

Because we cannot survive like this. These final layers are my strongest but I will not let the last layer be peeled away. I will not watch myself crumble. 

It is time... time to pick myself up and give my children what they deserve. Time to find my capability again. My power. My strength. 

One more scream and I will still be here rocking, shushing, kissing, singing loving.
One more scream and I will still love you as fiercely as ever before.
One more scream, will not push me away

You are FIVE months old

I know I have said it before but time with you just seems to be flying by. I am shocked that five months has gone by and that you are no longer a newborn but an infant. It has been some of the most joyful and amazing months of my life, but also some of the most challenging. You have the personality of one of the happiest little babies I have ever met, but the body of a very unhappy child. It tears me a part to watch you fight your reflux to find your happiness and I just wish I could take it away for you so that you could just be you.

Over the last four weeks you have been very communicative. You have told us that it is time for food, even though I wasn't particularly ready. You took the chicken from my roll, the spaghetti bolognese from my fork. So at 5 months old you are established on two full meals a day. You refuse to eat the baby cereal like most babies your age but rather, choose the pieces of meat to chomp and chew. It has been incredible and astounding to watch you navigate your way around real food. 

I had hoped that this would help you sleep, and in turn help me sleep. But you are still up multiple times a night. You still will not sleep through out the day. I have grown to accept this though and am becoming accustomed to the lack of sleep and having to juggle two babies through out the day without day naps. I am sure that you and Evelyn have just decided to slowly torture me into madness.

You have started to kiss me back. I lean in to you and pucker my lips and make kisses noises and your entire face breaks out in the most beautiful gummy smile, then you turn my head and you plant your big drooly mouth right on to the side of my face. Then you giggle and smile and coo. Your kisses, are my favourite type of kisses. Full of enthusiasm and laughter. 

You are just so beautifully loving, you love me and your Daddy and your sister with every single little fibre in your tiny body. You want to be with us, all the time. You watch us with your big brown eyes. They are sad when you can not see us but they light up when you can. Your entire body picks up when we talk to you. 

You still have moments of pure pain and torture. On those days, you scream, for hours. And I am weak. I cry, I sob, I heave. I just can't handle seeing you in so much pain. I can't handle the hours on hours of screaming. I want to make it better for you and I want to make it better for me. In these moments I feel like I am letting you down, like I don't have enough patience. I wish away the minutes, the hours, until you will stop screaming and then I kick myself for wishing away your life. I want you to know that I am not wishing away your life for the sake of wanting it over, I am wishing it away for the sake of I know one day your little system will be mature enough to handle itself. I want that day to come so that I can see your personality shine through. I want to see your happiness. I want you to enjoy life, I want to be able to enjoy you enjoying life.

I love you dear Zali Bear, to the absolute end of the world. You have made our lives fuller and brighter with your gummy smiles and your old man chuckle. With your unconditional love for all of us and you strength.

Love Always,
Your very devoted Mumma
x

You are FOUR months old

You have grown faster than I what I was prepared for. I have not been ready to say goodbye to your baby face, your complete dependent-ness, your baby clothes and yet here we are, with you able to hold your head up high, laugh and talk, completely alert and interactive and no longer in teeny tiny baby clothes. 

Your 7kg body is full to the brim with Mama's milk chubbiness. Your cheeks are full and totally squish-able. You hair is thick and growing fast. Your smile is as big and bright as the sun. Your personality is forming. Your baby days are over and we are welcoming your infant days, hard and fast. 

I think back to when Evelyn was this age and she seemed to feel a lot older than how I perceive you to be. I am certain that it is me who is just attached to your newborn stage and not willing to let you grow up yet, rather than you actually being younger. 

You adore your older sister and she is just about ready to love you to death. I often find that two of you talking and laughing. I walk in to find you wide eyed and doe eyed, besotted by her. Your big brown eyes follow her from length to length, with a whisper of a smile always on your face. 

You have smoothly transitioned into our little family and have become the most beautiful fourth member that we could ever have asked for. We honestly could not have ever imagined a better you. You are wonderful and beautiful and perfect.

You have had a hard entry into the world, as I have talked about before, with your reflux but you have risen above with true grace. You are gentle, a little serious, and extremely loving. Every time you look at me I can see you pupils dilate, swelling with love for me. Every time I look at you, mine do the same. 

You have rolled over from tummy to back this month. You smile, all the time. You are sleeping better, and finally in your bed rather than the swing. You are laughing. You love being tickled, you love stories.

Four months, I truly just cannot believe you have been with us for that long. Every day has been an absolute pleasure and a joy. Watching you grow is a blessing and being your Mother is my calling. This journey was destined for you and me, Darling girl.... are you ready?

I love you, with all my heart, to the moon and back

You are THREE months old

When I wrote your two month post, you weren't actually two months. You were 6 weeks. I was tired and incredibly confused. I realised it was past the 20th of the month by some considerable time and in my sleep deprived haze, I confused what month was what. I was, by no means, wishing the time away. Those 6 weeks were long, extremely long, and I was living moment by moment with no real attention to which way was what.

You have suffered, my darling. Your first three months earth side have been hard for you, torturous and in return, have been torturous on me. There is nothing more emotionally painful than watching a teeny tiny baby in the amount of pain you have been. I love you, so much that I feel like my heart could momentarily combust and every time you looked at me with your furrowed brow and your pleading screams, I would just ache. I felt sick watching you, knowing there really was nothing I can do but hold you, sing to you and assure you that one day everything will be okay.

We seem to have found one day. We got a diagnosis for you. When I last wrote to you, we had not yet been to the Drs. But since then, we found out at that very point in time you had an awful case of oral thrush and you suffer with quite severe silent reflux. We now have you on two forms of medication, losec and zantec, and most days are good. You sleep now. You smile. You play. You are happy. We still have some bad days where the reflux is stronger than the medicines, but most days we conquer.

Since those medications you and I have been able to enjoy each other. You have been able to enjoy life. Each morning you wake up and you see my face and you gush, with the brightest most beautiful smile. You stare deep into my eyes, you look past them. When you look at me, I feel like you are looking within me, directly into the depths of my soul. You know me, you know more about me than I do and you love me, so intensely. You watch my every move, and the minute I disappear from your sight, you beg for me to come back. It is a beautiful love, the love you have for me. So raw, so intense, so dependant. And I love you right back with the same intensity. It is a tremendous, extraordinary, kind of feeling. Unbreakable. 

You laughed your very first laugh only days before you three month milestone. So eager to learn and to grow before your time. Your first smile at 4 weeks and your first laugh at 11. You chuckle. A deep, groaning kind of laugh. Incredibly cute. I have been lucky enough to have caught it on camera and I watch it, over and over again. It makes my whole body smile, your incredible laugh. Your incredible being. 

I loved you from the very first moment I made you. I loved you through out your entire creation. But, the moment you were put into my arms, a new love was formed. A love saved only for you, Zalia Sky. Our love. And with every passing day that love blossoms. It grows, it folds, it morphs and it doubles. Our love. 

You are magical and you have filled our lives with a type of magic that we never knew before.

I love you, Dear Zali Bear
xxx

You are TWO months old

 You reached your two month milestone days ago, time is fleeting, I didn't even realise. So much has changed since you were one month, you have changed. The last month has felt like a lifetime. You were born a cranky baby and then you became happy and calm and peaceful. Only to revert back to your cranky baby ways, weeks later.

This last month has been heart breaking, for you and for me. You are in a world of pain and discomfort and there is no amount of attention, rocking, swaying and soothing that I can do to take that pain away for you. I hold you in my arms, day and day out and I watch you wiggle and squirm and cry. All that I can do is hold you and tell you that I am here for you. I cant help but to cry with you.

We don't sleep, you and I, yet we both so desperately want to. I can see exhaustion plastered over your face. Your eyes are swollen by tiredness, your cries are becoming weaker. You are fighting to sleep but your pain keeps you awake. I wish I could help you, darling girl. Please know that I do try, I try everything I can to bring you peace.

You are not enjoying your time here with us, I can see your body stricken with desperation. I am not enjoying watching you suffer. But I need you to know that this will soon pass, for both of us. That I love you, no matter the circumstances. And that I will see you through this, I will hold your hand and I will find an answer.

We have a paediatrician appointment on Monday and I will be fighting for you to be medicated for silent reflux. I pray that by this time next week you can find your calm again and that you can start enjoying this life. Because, Zalia, it really is a beautiful life, a beautiful world and I want you to smile while you are in it.

Regardless of your pain and unhappiness, you are growing well. You are beginning to really lose you new baby-ness and come into your own. You are beautiful, the most beautiful. You look just like your Sister did and that just makes me smile. My two perfect girls. She loves you so. And you love her right back. You are a baby with so much love in your eyes, the way you look at us, staring deep within our souls. I know that you know us, you have known us for longer than we know. 

I love you, Dear Zali Bear and I will love you til the end
xx

There is an elephant...

There is an elephant in the room. He follows me around where ever I go, lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce at any moment of weakness. I carry him with me, plastered all over my face, buried deep within my eyes, masking my emotions. He spills from me, he is in my words, my stuttering words, my inability to find my voice. He has become a new member of my family, a daily part of my life. There is an elephant in my room, welcome, dear friend, my sleep deprivation. 

My lack of sleep is taking over my life, my thoughts, my ability to be a Mother. It has become my obsession, the only thing I can think of. When I lay my head down at night, I wonder how long it will be before I am woken again. I find myself too scared to fall asleep, in fear of that feeling when you are woken before your time. The shakes, the nausea, the emotions. My elephant is haunting me and my dreams.

There is an elephant in my room, he sleeps within my baby. He follows her where ever she may go, lurking in her shadows, causing her pain and discomfort. She carries him with her, deep within her teeny body. He spills from her, in screams and tears. There is an elephant living with us. 

There is something about being this tired, it changes the way you see the world. It effects the way you view yourself and your life. There is something about the darkness of the night, emotions seem more raw, problems are larger than life, everything is darker in the dark of the night. 

I have a baby girl who was born a cranky baby. The first 48 hours of her life was full of screams and discomfort. She was irritable. Inconsolable. Then, we came home and she relaxed. She found her centre and we found our groove. We enjoyed each other, we enjoyed life. Until she became cranky again and she has been cranky ever since. 

I have a baby who refuses to sleep, who will not self settle, who will not settle with me. She screams, she arches, she throws up, she screams, she feeds and feeds and feeds. She is exhausted and she is exhausting me. I have a baby who needs some help, help from someone other than me. She will be seeing a Dr. next week and I pray that we will be able to find a resolution.

I have been doubting my ability. This elephant is clouding my days. One rolls into another, I am not sure where they begin or end. I am not sure if I am living up to my title of Mummy.

There is an elephant in the room and that elephant is me.

You are ONE month old

 


Four weeks old, so long ago and yet such little time. A lifetime for you and just moments for me. You have blended into our family, your family, so peacefully, so easily. You belong here, with us, like there was never a moment that you weren't here. How lucky we are that you chose us, of all the families. How blessed we are, that you are our Daughter.

Being Mum to you has been so easy, so natural and so unexpectedly calm. I have a confidence in my decisions that I never had when Evelyn was a baby, we can thank her for teaching me that. Rather than worrying about what you are not yet doing, not achieving, I am able to relish in what you are doing. I am enjoying each moment for what it is and not looking forward to the next.

With a first born baby you find yourself constantly looking forward, constantly checking that you are baby is on the right track. In a sense you force the first born to grow up faster. But with you, Zali Bear, I don't want you to grow up. I want you to stay like this, forever. You get to just be as you, while I get to enjoy you as you are. 

You are a beautifully calm baby. You were born cranky and grumbly, you were even known in the hospital as "the cranky water baby". But you are just like your Mummy, the minute we walked you through our front door you became calm and relaxed and happy. You have been that way ever since. You give us 5 hours sleep at night. You sleep well through out the door. You fed well, constantly, but well. You have smiled, at only four weeks old. 

I can tell that you are happy to be a part of our family, I can feel it in your body, I can see it in your eyes. You belong with us, Dear Zali Bear. You are so loved, by all of us. But most especially you are loved by your big sister, Evelyn. She adores you. She spends her time comforting you, playing with you, cuddling and kissing you. You are the first person she wants to see in the morning and the last person she kisses at night. You are going to be a very lucky girl to have a sister like her and she is going to be just as lucky to have a friend in you.

I have loved watching you grow over the past four weeks and I cannot wait to continue to watch you blossom.

I love you, Dear Zali Bear

The journey of Zalia Sky:: Part 2

When you were placed on my chest, the rest of the world slowly faded and it was just you and me for a moment. The voices faded away, the water of the bath slowly drained away, the pain was no more. It was me, holding my new born baby girl. I was utterly taken with you, absorbed in your beauty, suprised by strength. In that moment I was completely unaware of my surroundings, but acutely aware of you and me, the journey we just went on together and the life we have ahead of us. In that brief moment, everything was perfect.

I was helped to my feet and you and I walked to the bed, where I laid down and continue to soak you in. I was not yet aware of just how big you were, I was not totally aware of who was in the room. All I could focus on was you and your Daddy and how perfect our day had been. I was completely and totally in love with you, in an instant. 

After some time my bubble burst and voices of concern began to cloud my happiness. The midwives were waiting for my umbilical cord to stop pulsating so that Daddy could cut it. But after 45 minutes and no signs of it stopping they started to worry. I could hear confusion and concern in their voices. You could feel stress and anxiety in the air. You were refusing to root for a feed, showing no interest in my breasts. You were upset and cranky. I was growing more and more stressed. Daddy was looking confused. Something was quite right but I was unable to focus my attention on anyone person for long enough to work out just what was going on.

I was given the shot to speed up the delivery of the placenta. Once the placenta was delivered, I continued to bleed. The midwives having to constantly change the mess pad beneath me. The midwives started to weigh my blood loss. I looked up from trying to encourage you to feed to see jugs of my blood sitting in front of me. I became faint. At this point they began to talk about having to send me to theatre. I don't know how much time passed or how many people came through the room. I remember words such as 'too much blood loss', 'spinal block', 'blood transfusion' and 'complications' being passed around. 

The Drs came in and decided they needed to check inside to see if there was any internal "hind" tears. My legs were placed in the stirrups and I was passed the gas while the Drs did their business. I actually found this part more painful than any part of labour and delivery. It was uncomfortable, painful and scary. They were unable to find any cause to why i was still bleeding and decided that theatre was a must. 

They spoke to me about having to go under general anaesthetic. They spoke to me about possible outcomes. They spoke to me about possible procedures. I was still coming down from the gas wasn't truly able to hear or understand what they were saying but I remember feeling frightened. 

All the while I was still clutching you to my chest. I didn't want to leave you. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen. I had a dream birth. It was calm and peaceful and relatively easy. You were here with us and you were healthy. I didn't want to be taken away from you. I began to become really upset and nervous. At this point the midwives decided it was best to remove you from me and weigh you and take you apgar scores.

You weighed 4.6kgs (10 pound 2). Wow. What a complete and utter shock that was to us all. No one had predicted that you were going to be so big. My entire pregnancy you were measuring at the average measurement. In a sense I am glad that we weren't aware of your size as I dont think I would have been able to get through your delivery if I had of known. There is a lot to be said for the power of the mind. As you were being taken off the scales and given back to your Daddy, I was being wheeled out of the room. I didn't get a chance to give you a kiss goodbye before I left. I didn't get to have a kiss from your Daddy. I was wheeled away from you both and I was terrified.

The Drs assured me that this would all be standard procedure and that, all going according to plan, I should be back with you in an hours time. I felt lost, confused, defeated and a little disappointed. I just wanted to be holding my new baby, feeding you, loving you. 

I was taken downstairs and put to sleep. Just short of two hours later I woke in recovery and was assured that the surgery went fine and that I will be back to my room in half an hour. You were born at 2:34pm. I was taken from you at 4:30 and I finally got my first cuddle with you after the whole ordeal at around 7:00pm. 

I finally had you. We were safe, all of us. It was terrifying and a challenge that I was not prepared for, but we accepted it and we got through it. As I sit here writing this story I still become upset thinking about the moment they wheeled me away from you without giving me a moment to love you and to say goodbye to you. But I didn't need to say goodbye, because I came back to you, I will always come back to you.

The cause to the bleeding in the end was as simple as "ragged membranes". A part of your amniotic sack and some placenta remained inside of me and therefore my uterus was unable to begin the process of healing. All those nasty, scary words were unnecessary.

I take great pride in our journey. It was primal and natural, I was strong and empowered. I look back to our day and I feel shocked but I feel so completely proud, of all three of us. You have given me a strength that I never knew I had and with that you have given me a new air of confidence within myself. Our day was magical, it was everything I dreamt of. You and me, we worked together, like I always said we would, to bring you into this world.

This is the story of our journey... this is just the beginning.

Read The Journey of Zalia Sky:: Part 1 here

The journey of Zalia Sky:: Part 1

It took seven months to create you, to have your little soul begin to find life within my tummy. It took me 40 weeks and two days to grow you within my tummy. For your ten little fingers and ten little toes to take their form. Then, on Wednesday the 20th of March, you began your journey towards the light. You awoke me from my sleep at 3 in the morning with a gentle nudge. You were letting me know you were ready to become apart of our world. I held you in my hands and I let you know that I was ready to help you make your journey.

The night before, I busied myself cleaning our home in preparation for what was to come. There was something telling me that this was the last time I will be going to bed without a newborn baby in my life. I instantly knew that the feelings I awoke to that morning were the feelings I had been waiting for. They were ten minutes apart which allowed me enough time to sleep in between them. After an hour or so of connecting with you through these sensations I woke up your Daddy to let him know that life was on its way. I told him to go back to sleep for now and that I would wake him if I needed him. I continued to sleep between each sensation until Evelyn woke up at 7:30.

We all got out of bed and followed our normal morning routine while I stopped every 6 or so minutes to breathe my way through each sensation. Daddy fed, dressed and prepared Evelyn for a trip to Aunty Lex's house while I focused on remaining calm and breathing. Before I knew it, Aunty Lex was here to take Evelyn and I felt panicked by the thought that I wouldn't see her again as an only child. I tried to hold her and tell her I loved her but she was excited for play time with her cousins, blew me a kiss and ran to the car. I took myself back inside and started to really focus my attention on every sensation and feeling you sent to me. 


We laboured together, you and I, for four hours in the comfort of our home. With the help of your Daddy massaging my back and offering me supportive words and encouragement. I moved freely around the house between each sensation trying to find a place that felt comfortable and safe. The sensations became faster, stronger and more intense with each and every one and before long I began to feel the desire to push. Knowing that it would not be long before you graced us with your presence we decided it was time to make our way to the hospital.

As the hospital is within walking distance, we loaded Daddy with the bags and began the walk down the road. Having to stop on the side of the road to breathe through a contraction and then moving again. We made it to the front of the lift before another sensation hit and Mummy had to pause once again. Before I knew it we were in the delivery room and the bath was filling. I used Daddy as a beam of support, resting on his shoulders and listening to his words to make my way through each sensation. At this stage, we asked that the midwives check my progress, wanting to know just how far along we have made it and how far we had to go.

After a short while I decided it was time to immerse myself in the hot water of the bath. Daddy set up the candles and the music and sat by my side, holding my hands and coaching me through my breathing. Reminding me to stay calm, to focus and to visualise myself in the ocean, floating through the pain of every sensation. Your Daddy is the most amazing man, I found myself in a state of panic at one point, truly believing I was unable to deliver you into the world, but with his encouragement and support I was able to find my centre again. I was able to believe in myself, and him, and know that before long we would be able to hold you in our arms.

The midwives asked if I would like to know how far along I was after an hour in the bath. I decided that yes, I would. But at this stage my sensations became far more intense and closer together and I felt a real desire to start pushing. To start your journey through the birth canal. I couldn't believe it was time already. I said to your Daddy that it can't be. Its only been just short of two hours. I couldn't comprehend that in two short hours I would have progressed from 4 centimetres to 10. But after more words from you Daddy, more encouragement, he helped me to trust in my body. If my body was telling me to push, then it was time to push. 

With each contraction, I began to bear down, using my body to help your body come into the world. Each time that I pushed, the intensity of the sensations would feel less and less. My need to see you emerging into the world became more and more. I became desperate, weak and tired. Begging with Daddy - "I can't, I can't... Is she coming?". The midwives suggested that they break my waters for me, knowing that this was against my birth plan. I begged them, please... anything to get her here. Once my waters broke the pushing became easier. You were no longer disappearing back into my womb but actually working your way through the canal. 

When I heard this song begin to play in the background I found within myself a strength that I never knew existed. I took a moment, put my head beneath the water, began to sing beneath my breath. I knew, that it was time, that I had to really begin to fight. My pushes became stronger, desperate to see you. I sat myself up, held Daddy's hand and held the midwives hand, put my chin to my chest and I pushed with all my might. My focus was so very strong that the song began to fade, daddy's voice was in the back ground, all I could hear was my own voice. All I wanted to hear was yours. 

You were on my chest. You were crying. I was crying. You were beautiful, big and healthy. I looked to your Daddy and I said we have a baby. And we had the most beautiful baby, with beautiful tiny little ears like your Mumma. With lips like your sister. With dark hair and dark skin. Ten little fingers and ten little toes. You were breath taking. We were breath taking. Together, you and I, you made it into the world.

I held you tight and we moved from the bath to the bed where we cuddled and soaked each other in. While I was wrapped up in all of your beauty the midwives were dashing about trying to work out why your cord was still pulsating and why I was still bleeding. It felt like only ten minutes before they were telling me that there was something wrong and that I may need to go to theatre. It was actually two hours. You were taken from my chest, yet to have your first feed and I was wheeled out of the room...

Zalia Sky

Born at 2:34, March 20th

Born to 'Brother'

10 pound 2 - 4.6kgs

53 centimetres