The birth of Tiny Scarf – part Two

So there I was having a delightful (intense, painful – in a good way) massage when the lovely masseuse (at Yummy Mummy in Clovelly pregnant Sydneysiders – go there!!) told me that I had a excellent pain threshold and that I would have a good birth. I agreed that I was clearly extremely hardcore and put my head down and whimpered silently as she got her elbow into my intercostals.

I noticed another couple of these funny cramps and for fun started noting when they were happening. I did after all have an app to record contractions and by gosh I was going to use it. I was imagining myself in a couple of days saying ‘jeez this pre labour can take a while can’t it!’. These cramps kept coming every hour or so, but a bit more frequently when we decided to walk down to Bondi for dinner. I even had to stop walking for a few of them. Wow – braxton hicks can be really strong hey?

We had some lovely pizza, and I was starting to think that this could be some labouring that was happening. But running through my mind was the rule that you don’t go to hospital until your contractions are consistently 5 mins apart, last for a minute, and this goes for an hour. So I was nowhere near that! By the time we got home I was finding myself focussing on my breathing during these cramps. I was managing pretty well and over the night I had these cramps every hour or so. Nothing like real labour would be. Right.

In the morning there was no choice but cocoa pops. I can’t explain this need but it was awesome. I made Ben walk with me to the service station at about 6am to acquire said cocoa pops and during the walk the cramps were coming between 6 and 10 minutes apart. We decided to call the obstetrician at the reasonable hour of 8am. It wasn’t urgent as there was nothing consistent about the cramps and there were cocoa pops to be eaten. These cocoa pops were truly the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. At least the first bowl was. You know how there is always a bit of milk left over? And you think that you will just top it up with a few more cocoa pops, and then there isn’t enough milk… and then the whole packet is empty? Well that didn’t happen in this case because the first spoonful of the second bowl made me suddenly extremely unwell. Combined with the (dare I say) contractions I was starting to have a suspicion that I might be in labour. Some would call me a slow learner. And I would probably agree with them.

I spoke to the obstetrician at 8am and he told me to go to my scan (to check the fluid) at 10 as planned and then to pop over to his office and the midwife would have a look and see if I had started to dilate. I had 2 hours to kill and by this stage I was letting myself admit that I was quite uncomfortable when these contractions came and would have to stand and walk through them. The shower helped and then I made Ben walk around the block with me again. This was probably when I started to think I was properly in labour. We had to walk pretty slowly and discovered all manner of things about our neighbourhood. One neighbour has chickens. At the furthest point from home when I paused to have a contraction I caught a glimpse of white on my jumper. Yep, I had been shat on by a bird. We have no idea when or how long I’d been walking around with it, but at that point I took the jumper off and put it in the bin. I didn’t plan on being pregnant enough to need it (a kmart special) for much longer. Plus it was really ugly.

A bird crapping on you is good luck right? Or is that only if it is on your head?



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