Tag: Feelings

When is the perfect time?

Kaine BartonLeave a comment

So as you would have seen from our ‘Photo Friday’ post two days ago, there is a new addition to the extended Barton family. Little Flynn. My brother and sister-in-law’s second child.

And with that comes new conversations with family members and work colleagues. Well, not new for Renee and I, because its a conversation we’ve been having for a while now. But no one else knows that.

The hot topic of conversation… when Renee and I are planning on having a second baby. It never ends does it!

“When are you getting married?”

“When are you having a baby?”

“When are you having another baby?”

Over the past few days since Flynn’s birth, we’ve been advised on the benefits of having kids close together; we’ve been reminded about our ‘age’ and how the ‘clock’ is ticking (as if we didn’t know); and I’ve been told by someone that she is very keen to be an Aunty again! About as subtle as a gun don’t you think!

But what everyone doesn’t realise, is that we are already all over this.

The conversation about when we should have more kids, and how many kids at that, is a conversation that Renee and I frequently have. As do probably all first time parents. But funnily enough, even though we do talk about it regularly, I feel like we aren’t really any closer to coming to an agreement on both questions. Particularly how many children to have.

I am set on two. We won’t be outnumbered, and wherever you go, family passes are always for two adults and two children. Perfect! But Renee is still trying to talk me into three. She’s pretty adamant she will win this argument too! I think just recently she even said something along the lines of, “Oh we’re having three kids” in that kind of tone where you realise you don’t have any say in the matter.

So back on the topic of when we should have bubba number two! Well, while both Renee and I come from families of three kids, our family dynamics are quite different. Renee, her brother and her sister are all around 5 years apart, whereas me, my brother and my sister are all quite close at around 1-2 years apart.

And look, I really can see the pros and cons at doing it either way. Which timeline is best for us… I still don’t know at this stage. Though we don’t really have age on our side to consider the five years apart option.

Are we ready or a second baby? I don’t know… But is anyone ever truly ready for a second baby? Is there even such a thing as the perfect time?

I still feel like I’m learning to be a parent to Jesse. I still feel like I am yet to truly find my feet as a dad, where I can go out and confidently say, ‘yes, I have got this!’

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Though I’m not sure if a parent ever gets to that point.

But then you have the people that go, the second one is easy! The first born is always the hardest. It gets easier with each baby you have. Really? Does it? It seems like it’d just be Jesse x 2… and just Jesse by himself can sometime be a little overwhelming. Maybe its actually a matter of the parent getting more relaxed rather than the subsequent babies getting easier.

So the question is, is it time to jump into the deep end and try for baby number two? Or do we revel in the delight of our only child for a little bit longer?

Guess I better go find Renee so we can start the conversation again…

 

 

Photo Friday: Welcome to the world Flynn

Kaine BartonLeave a comment

Yesterday marked a very special day in the extended Barton Family.

We are absolutely over the moon to help my brother and his wife welcome their second child and second son into the world.

Our new little nephew.

Jesse’s new little cousin.

A gorgeous little (and while I say little, he did weigh in at over 9lb) boy named Flynn.

Welcome to the family little guy. We all can’t wait to see you grow and get to know you!

 

Reclaiming Our Bed

Renee Barton1 Comment

Something incredibly sweet has occurred in our house this week. Jesse has once again started sleeping in his own room. Hallelujah! I can now have the light on when putting on my pyjamas, read a book before bed and actually sleep in the position of my choosing without fear of waking him up.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for co-sleeping. In fact, I really love it. There is nothing, sweeter than cuddling up next to my small person at bed time. However, not so sweet is him deciding that my face is a comfortable pillow or getting kicked in the guts at 1am!

Co-sleeping with him as a newborn just worked for us. It was the only way to ensure anyone got any sleep and, when breastfeeding every couple of hours, it just made sense. But I was that woman who insisted I would not co-sleep with a toddler. Our bed was for us, husband and wife. The children would be welcome in the morning for snuggles but were not to sleep with us in our bed all night.

Yeah right!

We moved Jesse into his cot in his own room at about 3 months old because I needed some space and because we thought it was what we were meant to do. It went okay for a while but then teething started and suddenly he developed a severe allergy to sleeping in his cot. It’s like he had a sixth sense and knew he was in his cot as soon as you had put him down in it. No matter how dead asleep he was prior, he would stand up and immediately start crying as if you’d just lay him on a bed of nails. And don’t even consider putting him in there to put him self to sleep. No form of sleep training or pick up, put down methods would work on a kid this stubborn!

So back into our bed it was and that’s how we’ve done it for the last 8 or so months. It worked for us. We all got sleep and we enjoyed being together.

But recently I just felt like Jesse was ready to sleep on his own. And I was ready for it too. So we converted his cot into a toddler bed and decided to give it a whirl. We started with day naps (yes, he would have these in our bed too!) and for a whole week he slept like a champ. So then, with a little hesitation from Kaine, we attempted his first night sleep in his ‘big boy’ bed. It was a little bit sad but incredibly liberating at the same time. And it went brilliantly, he was in his bed from 7.30pm to 6.30am with a couple of little wake ups in between. Success!

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I was totally expecting it to be a gradual process but here we are coming up to night 4 and it has been a breeze.

Next step, getting him to sleep through the night… hmmm…

Guess I’ll take what I can get for now.

Let’s Talk About Internet Trolls

Kaine BartonLeave a comment

So let’s talk about online bullies… Internet trolls… keyboard warriors…

Whatever it is you want to call them, they are usually that pathetic kind of person you wouldn’t even waste a single breath for; who have nothing better to do with their time than hide behind the anonymity of the internet and post abusive and insensitive crap on social media platforms usually directed at a person or group of people and almost always to either feel better about their own pathetic lives or to get some kind of reaction out of the person to which they are directing their drivel.

Wow, that was a mouthful. Actually, have I just bullied internet bullies? Does that make me an internet bully?

Anyways, so what is it exactly we need to talk about in relation to these low life’s?

Well, for some reason, it seems we need to talk about internet trolls because people somehow seem to forget that they exist. And not only do they exist, they aren’t going to go away any time soon.

A few days ago a news article popped up in my news feed that caught my attention. A mummy blogger broke down on YouTube, after being personally attacked by internet bullies when a post she wrote about having a ‘quickie’ with her husband went viral.

While she has received hundreds of messages of support from fans since posting the YouTube video to her Facebook page, the reaction to the whole story has been mixed, with some people saying that if she can’t handle the abuse and negative feedback, than she shouldn’t share so much of her life online.

The author of the article even goes as far as to suggest that this mummy blogger shouldn’t be the one that has to put up with the horrible, nasty and insulting comments and that it should be the bullies and the trolls that are told to get off the internet. Come on… really?

Are we really that naive that we think we can just wave some sort of magic wand and make all online bullies and internet trolls disappear forever?

So with all that said, where do I stand on this issue… Well I’m sorry to say, I tend to lean toward those who are saying if you can’t handle the abuse from the trolls, than you shouldn’t be posting about your personal life online.

Let me just say at this point that this is simply my opinion on this topic. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to agree with. And I am writing this not having had to deal with online bullies or internet trolls ourselves.

But with that said, let’s just think about this for a minute. Internet trolls operate largely under a banner of anonymity. This means they can pretty much get away with saying whatever they want. It’s almost impossible to regulate what everyone does on the internet. When you post your private life to the internet, you are opening yourself up to both the good and the bad comments from others. And if you do decide to post your private life to the internet, you need to be prepared to handle any abuse and negative comments that are thrown your way.

Unfortunately, those are the cold hard facts. It may not be fair. But unfortunately, that’s the world we live in.

It’s like becoming a famous actor or musician and then complaining about the paparazzi chasing you everywhere. You put yourself in that situation. You have to deal with the consequences.

So getting back to the article. While I don’t condone what has happened to this mummy blogger on the back of her viral post, I find it somewhat hard to feel sorry for her due to the fact that online trolls are such a common problem.

Also, after reading the article and watching her video, I call bull s*** on her argument about not wanting to go viral. It’s pretty clear with the way that post was written that she was hoping it would get some sort of traction. And you don’t create a public blog if you don’t want some sort of popularity to enable you to make a living from it.

So what’s the solution? Well, we can’t get rid of internet trolls. So the best way to deal with them is simply to ignore them.

Regardless of whether you like her writing or not (I don’t personally but that’s just me), new blogging sensation Constance Hall has dealing with trolls down to a fine art. She just doesn’t give a f***. If she gets hate, she ignores it and moves on.

So I’m sorry you’ve had a rough time with trolls mummy blogger. But unfortunately, that’s the world we live in. If you believe in what your doing, just ignore the hate, and keep on going.

Because if we continue to let the trolls get to us, then they’ve won!

Why Babywearing Delights Me

Renee BartonLeave a comment

After breakfast this morning while Jesse was happily destroying a banana squeezing it through his fingers, I read an article entitled ‘Why Babywearing Annoys Me‘.

It was one mum’s rant about how baby wearing parents are “high-horse owning” and “smug” and have unachievable parenting standards. In one part the writer says that she feels baby-wearing parents think they love their children more and later she insinuates that we put the need to be hands-free for housework as a higher priority than giving attention to our babies.

As I read I was quite shocked by my reaction. Instead of feeling infuriated by such a small-minded perspective I actually felt saddened. Partly that this drivel is allowed on the internet. But mostly, here was a mum who obviously felt threatened by something she didn’t understand.

Jesse is 14 months and is still worn almost daily. I can say in all honesty that baby-wearing has changed my whole experience as his mum.


I purchased a stretchy wrap towards the end of my pregnancy because I loved the concept of wearing my newborn to help him adjust to life on the outside. Little did I know that a wrap or carrier would become his happy place and still bring him so much comfort after all this time.

“And if I went shopping, George went in his buggy. How on earth would I try something on with a baby attached to me?”

Yes, I go shopping with my baby in a carrier. Unlike this mum, my baby never liked to be in a pram. It’s not like I didn’t try. We have a very nice, expensive pram that I would have loved to use more often. I’d see other mum’s swanning around the shops while their perfect baby slept soundly. Meanwhile mine was screaming until I ended up getting him out and holding him while I pushed the empty, very nice, expensive pram.

“Er, why not just leave him snoozing in his cot or moses basket?”

Yes, my baby naps in the carrier. Again, unlike this mum, my baby is not a big fan of his cot, or bassinet, or sleeping on his own in general. And no, I didn’t build a rod for my own back. My little velcro bub was like that from birth. Just hours after being born he would not sleep in his plastic hospital tub but wanted to be on mummy’s chest. And that was just fine by me.

Wearing my baby has kept us all sane. I’m so thankful for it and will absolutely continue to do it with future babies.

Just the other day I was able to spend a beautiful day hiking with my family while Jesse happily slept on my back in the carrier. My dad also had a go of carrying him and Jesse was giggling and having fun the whole time. Now, I couldn’t have done that with a pram!


I also get to see many other mum’s and bubs enjoy baby-wearing as a Kangatraining Instructor. From those that are avid wearers to those that have never worn their baby before, their babies are almost instantly calm once fitted correctly in a carrier.

So, lady who hates baby wearers, we don’t wear our babies because we’re hippies or because we love them more than you love yours or because we feel the need to have our babies permanently attached to us as you so eloquently put it.

We do it because we want to. Because it makes our little ones feel safe. Because sleep is kind of important. Because it’s more comfortable than balancing a baby on my hip all day.

Mamas, can’t we just celebrate that we all parent differently?

Instead of judging a mum who has mastered how to turn a long piece of material into an intricately tied carrier for their baby, give them a high five ‘cos that shit is tricky! Baby-wearing may not be everyone’s cup of tea. But who cares! We’re all just doing what’s best for our families. And that’s what is important.

Stop and Smell the Baby

Renee BartonLeave a comment

In the early days and weeks after having a baby so much time is invested just being in the moment. Countless hours spent staring at your new baby and breathing in that intoxicating new baby smell. Giggling at every new facial expression. Gently tracing their features with your finger and committing it all to memory. Stroking their perfect fingers and toes.

The laundry piling up doesn’t matter (because you hardly leave the house anyway). There’s no need for cooking because you’ve got frozen lasagne loaded in the freezer. And the dishes somehow get done either by a generous visitor or husband.

But eventually, life with a baby becomes the new normal. And as well as being mum we also need to be housekeeper, cook, business owner, wife and finance manager, just to name a few. There’s washing to hang out, emails to send and mouths to feed. It can be a lot. And sometimes we can forget to slow down. Stop and smell the baby.

A few nights ago I was putting Jesse to sleep, as I do most nights, when I was struck by just how special that time with him is. I admit, sometimes it can feel like a drag as I run through my mind all the things I need to do. I can find myself wishing my 1 year old was able to put himself to sleep like I hear so many other babies do.

And suddenly I felt that little pang in my heart. I felt yet again that perhaps I’d gotten bogged down in daily life and hadn’t stopped to really soak in that moment.

So, I cuddled him a little tighter, gently rocked back and forth as I whispered ‘I love you’ and ‘mummy’s here’. I kissed his head and drew in his sweet smell. It felt good.

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Now I know that I’m not always preoccupied and I definitely don’t take motherhood for granted. Most of my days are spent playing with my boy, feeding him, clothing him. I kiss him a hundred times a day and tell him I love him. I watch him learn and discover new things. I teach him things and sing songs with him. But I admit, like everyone, I sometimes become frustrated when I just need to send this email or just need to get these dishes done.

But every so often I’m reminded that maybe those other things can wait.And that sometimes, maybe I need to just stop and smell the baby.

When parents argue…

Kaine BartonLeave a comment

Couples argue. Couples fight. Couples don’t always see eye to eye. It really is just part of normal life when you’re in a relationship with someone.

Despite the fact that this blog is generally pretty positive (which is a conscious decision, as we think there is enough negativity out there already), we also have our own arguments and fights every now and again. And it has only been recently that I have come to notice something quite funny about the arguments and fights we have been having of late.

It has come as a bit of a revelation to me to discover that the subject of our arguments has changed. Where we once argued about everything from how to wash the clothes properly to money (yes, some of our arguments were that petty, but that said, aren’t all arguments???), we know exclusively argue about one thing…

JESSE!

It’s pretty funny when I think about it now. But all our fights are centred around Jesse and how we care and raise him. Hey, at least the dirty laundry gets a break from our sparring tongues.

And look, at the end of the day, we always kiss and have make up se… I mean kiss and make up. And at the time of the argument, it always feels like it’s about important issues that will shape the future of our family. But when the dust settles, we can usually sit back and laugh at just how ridiculous the fight was!

So what are some of the fights about I hear you ask. Well, you know, earth shattering stuff honestly. Here are some of the arguments we’ve had that I can recall us laughing about at a later date:

1. OMG… I THINK JESSE MAY HAVE SWALLOWED A CAT CLAW AND I THINK HE IS GOING TO DIE!!! While he did actually have the claw in his mouth, he didn’t end up swallowing it. And he obviously didn’t die. And after a phone call to 13 Health and being told she was an idiot for calling, Renee constantly likes to bring up that she was right and I was wrong.

2. DID JESSE JUST FALL OFF OUR BED? WHY WERE’NT YOU WATCHING HIM??? OMG, HE IS GOING TO DIE!!! He did actually fall out of bed. Renee felt really awful about it too. But alas, he survived through this one also. And apparently, babies falling out of beds is more common than I realised.

3. IS HE ALLOWED TO EAT THAT? IS THAT TOO BIG FOR HIM TO EAT? IS IT COOKED PROPERLY? IS IT COOL ENOUGH? IS IT TOO HOT? BECAUSE HE MIGHT DIE!!! Yes I tend to worry too much about silly things like this. But yes, Renee’s cooking is also that bad…

4. GOD… HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO LET HIM CRY FOR… JUST GIVE HIM SOME NUROFEN ALREADY!!! I did have to apologise for this one. In my defence, I had a late night and was really tired and I had to work the next day. Hey, I never said it was a good defence.

5. WHY ISN’T HE WALKING YET? WHY ISN’T HE TALKING YET? ARE WE DOING ENOUGH WITH HIM? DO WE NEED TO READ MORE? DO WE NEED TO PLAY MORE? IS HE DYING??? He isn’t dying. He is doing just fine. He has only just turned 1! Every baby is different!!!

So we are just like everyone else… we argue… we fight… maybe not about the same things we used to… But, we are just like everyone else out there.

And like I said, at the end of the day, we always come to realise that in this new adventure we’re on called parenting, we are doing just fine. We aren’t perfect parents. But then again, no-one is. But the way our little family is developing is just perfect.

So the next time you and your partner get into a fight about how you’re raising your kids… just remember that you’re probably not the first and you definitely won’t be the last parents to fight about exactly the same thing.

And just remember to forgive each other, so you can one day look back on those arguments and laugh. I know I sure will.

Our Birth Story: A Dad’s Perspective

Kaine BartonLeave a comment

Two days ago, our little guy turned one! Can you believe that? One! Jesse has officially been part of our lives for a whole year. Where has all that time gone?!

Today we celebrated this wonderful milestone with our closest family and friends at Jesse’s first birthday party.

All the festivities has me reminiscing about our amazing journey into parenthood. From right back to when we first kicked off trying to conceive, to falling pregnant, Jesse’s arrival into the world and those first few days and weeks as new parents. It all still seems so clear in my mind.

So following Renee’s last blog post, I thought I’d give my perspective on Jesse’s birth story. Because let’s face it, how many birth stories have you read from the perspective of the dad?

The last weeks – The calm before the storm

I was loving the fact that I had access to a permanent designated driver ever since we had found out that Renee was pregnant. It was just a shame I didn’t take advantage of this fact more often.

In all seriousness though, in those last weeks of Renee’s pregnancy, we were both starting to get very excited about meeting our little bundle of joy. But it wasn’t just excitement that was starting to build inside me. It was a mixture of emotions that included excitement, nervousness, joy, panic, elation, fear… you get the picture. I was excited but freaking out at the same time about becoming a first time dad.

Renee and I would constantly talk about the impending labour. We spoke about the birth plan, when I should start my parental leave, what kind of labour we thought Renee might experience and when the baby would finally decide it was time to greet the world.

In those last few weeks I constantly joked that I didn’t mind when the baby was born, just as long as it wasn’t born on State of Origin night. And if it was, well there better be a TV in the birthing suite, because I was not going to miss Game 1!

On the weekend of the 23/24 May 2015, Renee and I agreed that I should start my leave earlier than I had initially planned. While the plan was to work right up to when Renee was in labour, I started my leave on Monday, 25 May 2015, so we could enjoy some time together before the baby came.

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The day before

We didn’t have much planned for the day. A casual stroll around the shops (or “the mall” depending on where you’re reading from) was the most exciting thing we had planned for the day. Mostly because we wanted to keep things as relaxed as possible to not put any undue stress on Renee.

After walking around for about an hour, Renee looks at me and tells me that she thinks she’s been having mild contractions the whole time we’ve been at the shops.

“What?! Really?! Do we need to go to the hospital?! Your water isn’t going to break in the middle of the shopping centre is it?!”

I have a slight tendency to overreact to certain situations sometimes. So after Renee assures me that it’s nothing too serious and that perhaps we just head home, I calm down we head off.

For the rest of the day, Renee kept me updated on how she was feeling, how intense the contractions were, how far apart they were and whether she needed me to do anything for her. There didn’t seem to be any consistency to the contractions with regards to how far apart they were, although they were getting more intense.

Later that night at around 11pm, as Renee was leaning up against the kitchen bench to help get her through each contraction, I asked again if we should tell anybody or ring ahead to the hospital. But again I got reassurance from Renee that we don’t need to ring through to anyone just yet, as for all we knew the contractions could stop. Plus, our midwife had told us to stay at home until the contractions were 3 minutes apart, which they weren’t.

So on Renee’s approval, it was off to bed for me to get some sleep, just in case things ramped up during the night.

D-Day

Renee gave me an update over breakfast about her night and how she was presently feeling and as she suspected, throughout the night, the contractions eventually began to get lighter and further apart until they faded away almost entirely. Regardless, we had a midwife appointment at 10:30am, so we could talk through what had happened with a professional soon enough.

I remember however that despite how calm things appeared on the surface, I was still a little anxious underneath it all, as all signs were starting to point to this baby making an appearance sometime in the next few days… if not earlier. And so while at the midwife appointment, I again make the joke that the baby better not come tonight because I really want to watch Game 1 of State of Origin. We all have a bit of a chuckle. We then head to Renee’s parents for a quick visit.

We barely last an hour there before Renee ends up bent back over the kitchen bench as the waves of pain from contractions start again. Renee’s mum looks both excited but supportive as she comforts her through each contraction. Not long after the contractions start again, Renee gives me the nod that she wants to head back home to ride them out.

I leave Renee at home (again, with her permission) to grab some lunch. When I get back, I find Renee doing what could be described as some sort of squatting manoeuvre beside the bed and in what appears to be a world of pain. Even I can tell that this time, it looks like it’s all systems go. Time to call the hospital!

Again, excitement, nervousness, joy, panic, elation, fear all washes over me and I feel my legs start to shake as I start to freak out. Wow… This is actually happening… Right now… This… Is… Happening… Right now… I must hide it well though, because it appears as though Renee doesn’t seem to notice my wave of emotions. Although, given the state she’s in, I can hardly blame her for taking notice of anything else other than the pain she was experiencing.

And while all this is happening, in the back of my mind I can’t help but think, “dammit… all that joking around about how I didn’t want the baby to come on State of Origin night, and now it’s happening!!!”

So I get all the bags we prepared for the birth together and start packing the car. I hit schedule TV to record State of Origin Game 1, just in case we do end up missing it (priorities right) and we head to the hospital.

The drive to the hospital was probably one of the longest drives we’ve ever had to take. I was a nervous ball of energy. Renee was in tears because of the pain she was experiencing with each contraction. And all I wished was that we could somehow teleport right to the doorstep of the hospital.

We make it. But the battle is far from over. I pile myself up with all our bags and help Renee out of the car. But it’s even a slow journey up to the maternity ward with Renee having to stop every few minutes to ride out yet another contraction. We make it to the maternity ward counter and our midwife team is called. Renee gets down on her haunches while holding onto the counter for another contraction when one of the midwives appear and says “Wow, looks like you ready to go then. Follow me.”

In the birthing suite

My first job was to call Sharon and Lia (Renee’s mum and sister) to ask them to come straight to the hospital as Renee wanted them both there for the birth. From that moment on my sole responsibility was making sure I helped Renee as much as possible and whenever she needed it.

And like that it was on… like Donkey Kong!

It was such an intense experience. I often felt a little helpless, as I watched Renee have to push through waves of pain as each contraction got more and more painful. I got her water when she needed it. I helped her move around the room when she needed. I let her squeeze my hands so hard at times that it felt like she was about to break my fingers off. Actually, at one point her mum took over the hand holding and I think Renee did cause her some finger damage!

But I wasn’t going to complain about a single thing, because I knew I’d probably get a slap to the face.

The most annoying thing for me however, was the fact that I must have either been nervous or I drank too much water heading into the birthing suite, because I remember having to go to the toilet nearly every 20 mins. It was quite inconvenient, but whenever I did need to go, Sharon and Lia were there to continue to help Renee through the pain.

I couldn’t believe how well Renee was coping with labour. She wanted the birth to be as natural as it could be and with the exception of a little gas, she did it completely unassisted. And I don’t think I’ve ever told Renee this, but the midwife must have had more faith in Renee than she had in herself, because she turned the gas off well before Renee knew it was off.

And then, at 7:50pm, our beautiful boy was born. Wow… A wave of emotions flooded through me. There he was. A boy. So tiny. So beautiful. All 6lb 2oz of him. Renee caught him in her arms, brought him up to her chest and held him close as he took his first breaths. I nuzzled into them both. So proud of Renee for what she had just done. And so completely overwhelmed with what was now in front of me.

A little while after he was born, I had the pleasure of cutting the cord. And then not too long after that, I got to have my first cuddle of my new born son. Skin to skin. Just me and our baby boy. At that point, I remember thinking how tiny and delicate he was. I was so worried that I was going to break him.

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When the midwife had left to complete some paperwork and Renee and I got some alone time with him together, we started thinking about what we should name him. We didn’t want to rush naming him if we didn’t feel the names we had picked suited him. But, as we did already have a few combinations picked out, we thought that now was a good opportunity to go through them.

Once we got to the name Jesse Jack Barton, we immediately knew this was the one. It fit perfectly. He even looked like a Jesse Jack Barton.

And so as if it was always meant to be, we both looked down at Jesse Jack Barton. Our first child. Our son. Our life.

Like Renee said, I’ll never forget the moment my life changed forever. The moment in that birthing suite where I met our beautiful baby boy for the first time. The moment I fell madly in love with our sweet little Jesse.

My dearest Jesse, happy birthday!

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Our Birth Story: A Mum’s Perspective

Renee Barton1 Comment

We are just days away from our little boy’s first birthday and we can’t quite believe it. No longer a ‘baby’ and becoming more toddler-like with each day.

This special milestone has me reminiscing about his arrival into the world and those first few days as a first time mum.

So I thought I might commemorate the occasion by telling Jesse’s birth story. Partly because all mum’s love to share their labour stories and partly because all kids love to hear about their entrance into the world. But also because I don’t want the details to get fuzzy. I want to document it so I will always remember.

Those last few weeks of pregnancy

I was loving pregnancy but I was also starting to get very excited about meeting our new family member. And if I’m honest, a little anxious about the pain I was about to endure. I had heard lots of birth stories and was even blessed to witness a few bubs coming into the world, but I had no idea what my birth experience would be like.

I knew what I wanted; a calm yet active labour. To labour at home for as long as possible. To do it as naturally and unassisted as possible. But I also knew that a birth plan doesn’t always go to plan and should be flexible.

Kaine would ask me every day towards the end if there was “any movement at the station” before leaving for work and each time I would smile and assure him no, not yet.

On the 25th of May, Kaine decided to start his leave from work. Even if bub didn’t come for another week or more, we would have some special time together before bub did come.

We went for a walk with the dog that day (well I waddled) and I distinctly remember on our way back the man across the road asked how long we had to go. Ten days I answered excitedly. And two days later we were parents.

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The final bump shot – 38 Weeks

Tuesday 26th May, 2015

7am – I’m lying in bed enjoying one of the last few sleep ins I’ll have for probably a very long while and feel myself drifting in and out of sleep. I start to realise that it’s mild period-like pain waking me from my slumber. Without opening my eyes I sleepily wonder to myself if it’s the early stages of contractions. I ignore it for a while longer and continue to snooze.

Later that morning we are both awake as we had plans to go the shops. It’s not until after we are there for about an hour that I mention to Kaine that I think I’m getting mild contractions. Nothing to freak out about, but perhaps we should go home. By this stage they were feeling a bit stronger and all I could think about was not wanting my waters to break in public (clean up in isle 5!).

As the day got later, the contractions got stronger and more painful, but still very irregular. Some were 20 minutes apart while others were 4 or 5 minutes apart.

11 pm – Kaine asked (yet again) if we should tell anyone. I told him no because I knew these things could stop and start. The midwives had told us to stay at home until the contractions were 3 minutes apart so that’s what I was going to do. I instructed Kaine to go and get some sleep. But there was no way I could with the waves of pain I was getting.

So, with the lights dimmed I had my contraction timer app and a game on my phone for in between and every time a contraction came I would get up and squat whilst bracing against the kitchen bench.

Sometime during the early hours of Wednesday I migrated to the spare room to get some rest in between contractions. The gap was getting longer and the pain was getting milder. By 6am the next morning, they were all but gone! I had a midwife appointment at 10.30am, so I knew that I could fill her in with the nights activity and see what she says.

Wednesday 27th May, 2015

After barely any sleep I was feeling particularly spritely – must have been adrenaline kicking in.

10am – We head off to my midwife appointment. I explain the last 24 hours and she says that’s all great signs and this could go on for a week. What now? A week?? Hell no. I have a couple of little pains in her office but nothing to really worry about.

Afterwards we drop by mum’s for a visit as she is right around the corner. Now she knows nothing of what’s been going on until I rush to the kitchen bench to resume my squat position. Conversation stops and breathing gets heavier. I see the look of glee on mum’s face which at the time, seems kind of cruel. After two more I say to Kaine for the second day in a row, “I think we need to go home now”.

12.30pm – We arrive home and while Kaine goes to get lunch I hop into bed with the lap top to continue watching Glee on Netflix which has been my guilty pleasure since starting my maternity leave.

I soon find myself hovering by the bed in a world of pain. I recommence timing contractions and they’re getting closer. It’s time to call the hospital.

The midwife answers and I can hardly talk I’m in so much pain. I manage to form enough words to tell her what’s happening and she tells us to come in.

Holy sh*t! This is happening! We grab our bags, I warm my heat pack one more time and we head out the door.

That car trip is not one I’ll forget anytime soon. I can’t squat my way through contractions in the car and instead have to sit up right. I clench the seat beside me. I start to cry. Partly from the pain and partly because I’m scared.

I have a contraction in the car park and two more getting up to the maternity ward.

2 pm – They hook me up to a machine to listen to bubby’s heartbeat and to monitor contractions. For the next 30 minutes, they just stand around and watch me ryth pain with each one. After deciding that I am indeed in labour they check to see how dilated I am and whether or not they can break my waters.

I was so happy to hear I was 4cm dilated (all that work last night paid off!) and breaking my waters was surprisingly easy and pain free.

Well, from that moment, it was game on! We put the call in to my parents as we had agreed that my mum and sister would join us in the birth suite. They were both unbelievable support as was Kaine.

And I was lucky enough to be able to stick to my birth plan entirely. I remained mobile throughout the whole labour and stayed off the bed pretty much the whole time. It was definitely leg day as I continued to squat with each contraction. Boy did I feel that the next day!

But it was part of my routine. I coped by doing the same thing every time. At one point the midwife suggested I count or get Kaine to count during each one. I remember thinking “if you start to count out loud and I will slap you!”

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When it came time to push I thought nature would just take over. But I found that I really had to deliberately switch gears from riding through the wave of contractions to using it to bear down. I was getting to the stage where I didn’t know how much more I could do or how much longer I could go for.

When I said that the midwife replied that they wouldn’t let me push for much longer. Immediately I wondered what that meant. Assisted delivery? Caesarean? Okay, time to get this baby out!

I realised what was holding me back was my fear of tearing after hearing one particular horror story. I just had to put that aside and breath this baby out.  And that’s exactly what I did.

7.50 pm – It’s finally over. The sweet relief of no more pain washes over me as does the love for the tiny baby I hold in my arms. “Well what is it?” I hear everyone say and I realise I haven’t yet looked to see whether I’m holding my son or my daughter. And nobody else in the room knows either.

It’s a boy I say as I look up at Kaine. We both smile as we look back down at our beautiful baby boy.

My dad, who was not-so-patiently waiting in the waiting room this whole time, joins us while we all marvel at our beautiful baby boy. Around that time, we all put in our final guesses for baby’s weight. He was a delicate parcel of 6 pound 2 ounces. I think Kaine might have guessed his weight exactly.

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I was just completely in new mum bliss mode now. Thrilled to have had such an amazing birth experience but also thrilled it was over. Just in time for my next challenge. Motherhood.

I’ll never forget the moment my life changed forever. The moment I fell even more madly in love with my husband and the moment my heart started to live outside my body.

Jesse, my darling boy, happy birthday.