At 2am on Monday 7th April I felt my waters trickle out of me whilst I lay in bed. I got up to go to the bathroom so I could confirm what I already knew -my baby girl was on her way! Once I’d ruled out the possibility that I’d just lost control of my bladder and was sure that my waters had indeed broken I woke Stephen up to let him know. We decided I should probably call the hospital to let them know as I hadn’t had any contractions at this point. As I sat downstairs on the phone to the Birthing Unit, unbeknownst to me, poor Stephen almost broke his neck slipping on the trail of fluid I’d left behind on the bedroom floor. Oops!
It’s 2:25am, I’ve just fed Jasmine and got her settled back to sleep. If only all it took was some milk, a rub on the back and Barney Gumble style burp to get myself back to sleep. Alas no, my mind is buzzing tonight. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with sadness and cry silently into Jasmine’s muslin cloth, desperate not to wake my sleeping other half. I’d hate to have to try and explain “what’s wrong?” as the truth is, I have no idea.
OK, that’s not true, I have SOME idea.
It could be down to the fact that my baby girl turns 1 month old in a few days time and not a single member of my family has met her. Not a single one and it hurts. Now, any new mum will know that when you have a child, even if you’ve never felt that proud of anything you’ve ever done in your life before – the moment that baby is lifted on to your chest at birth; you know they are your greatest achievement. You want to show them off to the world. Forget everything else, I’ve finally (with help from the person I love) created something perfect.