Diary of a First Time Mother

Well, hopefully we've hit the brick wall and gone through the pain barrier, as it were.

Things are looking up, for now anyways!

I'm. So. Tired.

Saw Bringing Up Baby last night, mostly it mad me angry, that 50's woman does my head in. Babies being manipulative?! I feel like a zombie right now but I don't think Daniel is doing it on purpose!
Interesting about the hungry milk before bed making the baby sleep longer tho. That will have to be tried... tonight, methinks!

So the real world has come back to us again.
Terry went back to uni today - he's there now actually. And I'm at home looking after Daniel and feeling (apart from tired) kinda shell shocked. When Daniel was born it was like a bubble was around us, protecting us from the outside world. The only thing that mattered was us looking after him and trying to get enough sleep. Now, suddenly, Terry has to worry about doing his year 3 project on top of doing the coursework and being a new dad. Watching him last night, getting depressed because after 2 years - passing both of them I might add - he still feels like he has no clue about what his course is actially about and what he has to do. It was terrible. There's nothing I can do to help. I know nothing about psychology, I didn't take it at A Level, so it's all up to him. And it's not like I can suddenly take over childcare full time either, I do actually need his help if I'm going to get some sleep any time soon. So I think life's going to get a little bit tougher now.
Watching Terry go about his uni business reminds me that I'm not off forever either. If I want to feed my child, I have to go back to work. Now admitedly this isn't until February but still.. it's October now. Time is going to just fly. And as tired as I am, I don't want to leave my gorgeous baby son in case I miss anything. I can't stand the idea that he'll do something while I'm at work. What if I miss his first words? I'm trying to think of a way to not go back to work while they still pay me. I don't think it's possible unfortunately.
Then there's the issue of whether we'll actually be able to work it out when Terry gets a full time job as well. We may have to invest in childcare. Or I may have to quit my job and get a 9 to 5. Hopefully Terry will earn a lot and I'll be able to work part time. Then eventually Daniel can have a brother or sister and me and Terry can get married...
I'm very very tired right now. I know I didn't make any sense just now. =p

So... what happens now?

Daniel is 2 weeks and 5 days old now, and we're still getting used to him and how he works. His sleeping patterns seem to be regular, at least during the night. We usually stay awake (maybe not the best idea, but we've always been night owls) until he falls asleep between 1 and 2, then he'll wake up at 5 and want feeding. I've had bad days and good days. Good days - like yesterday - involve me smiling and cooing at him, changing him, being happy about everything he does, and being happy with Terry about Daniel and just about life in general. It has a lot to do with how close I feel to Terry on any particular day, I think. Bad days - which have happened more than not, at least over this past week - include me crying every time Daniel cries, and sometimes not even waiting for him. Getting frustrated with him when he won't feed. Getting even more frustrated when it's my turn to get up and it's cold and I just don't want to, while he screams in the moses basket next to me.
I do think that the amount of time I spend with Terry is a deciding factor in how good I feel each day. Take the day before yesterday - I stayed up from 6am onwards with Daniel, feeding him, changing him, meeting with the heath visitor and keeping him amused. I didn't hand Daniel over the minute Terry got up at 2pm (he hadn't had a lot of sleep, was grumpy and feeling ill, I thought it would be nice for him to have a lie in). He went on the computer, I didn't really have any quality time with him, he still wasn't feeling great, went to bed grumpy and miserable and of course Daniel wouldn't settle when we wanted to go to sleep which made things worse. Lots of crying that day.
Yesterday, I'd slept more as Terry only woke me up when we'd run out of formula, then later on we had snuggles in bed while Daniel was asleep. It was lovely having time for each other and it sounds selfish, but it was nice to have all of Terry's attention on me for a little bit. And nice to focus all of my attention on him, rather than can he change Daniel, or can he feed him. For an hour or so, it was just Hayley and Terry again, and it was loooooovely.
Sometimes I don't feel I can cope. He cries, I'm tired, I just want 5 minutes away from him, I can't be bothered to change him again! He seems like this little monster that I can't control but I need to take care of. I love him so much - I've never loved anything in my life as much as I love him. But it's terrifying knowing that he's depending on me, for everything. Once, when Terry was trying to soothe me during another bout of the "I can't do this, I really can't, I'm not coping, I'm a terrible mother" crying fits, he said to me, "You're his world, you're everything to him right now". I think that was the response to a new cry of "he hates me, he really hates me". But that stuck so much. It was a good as well as a bad comment I think. Yes, I AM his world - he may love me, he may be soothed by me holding him or by the sound of my voice - but he also needs me for everything and that's terrifying.
Then, other times I feel like the most amazing woman in the world. I created him, this miracle whom we love so much. He makes funny faces at silly things and it makes me laugh so much. He gazes up at me, after he's been fed but he doesn't want to go too sleep, and I know he's wondering about me like I am about him. And our amazing hugs. After a feed, sometimes, especially if I think he's got wind, I'll dance around the living room with him snuggled up to me. Terry sometimes puts music on for us. Oh, and his reaction when Terry puts music on, even when Daniel's just lying in his arms. He's getting a taste in music already! He didn't like Boyzone so much, but loved Bryan Adams. That kid's gonna go far.
I've discovered his rocking chair with a vengence. It vibrates, and that soothes him when he's bored. We found out the hard way that if he's bored and you put him in his moses basket, he'll cry until you pick him up again. Fine - but not at 5am!

So... we'll start off with the birth of my baby son.

I was 38+5 when I went into labour at 12:23am. I was busy looking for "signs" that it was going to happen, I was miserable, I just wanted the baby out, It was hard to sleep and I was anxious to meet my child. I also wanted to prove to my family that my fears were justified about me making a 300 mile trip up north, that yes, I would have gone into labour up there and then I would have been stuck. My grandmother had passed away 6 days beforehand which is why they wanted me there. I felt terrible about it but my blood pressure was sky high and I'd already had a show. My midwife was sure it was going to happen soon and I just knew that if I did go up, I'd end up giving birth in a field somewhere halfway up the country.
I had 4 contractions in a row, and I remember thinking, "oh shit, maybe this really is it". Terry was playing on the computer at the time and I was watching TV, he asked if I wanted a cigarette (yes, I know, smoking while pregnant, yes, I felt bad, but you try being 300 miles away from your family when they lose someone and you can't get up there) and we went outside. I told him I'd had 4 mild contractions in a row, coming every 10 minutes, and that this might be it but I wasn't sure. I told him I'd tell him what was going on and he promised to be there for me.
The contractions didn't stop. They gradually got more painful although it was a slow process. Most of the pain was focused on my lower back, and it actually felt more painful than the period type pains I was expecting. I sat on my little pouffe next to Terry on the PC and watched him play his game. When the pain got bad he started rubbing my back for me, which eased the pain a little. The pains were getting stronger but I wanted to stay at home for as long as possible.
At 5am I called the hospital because the pains were starting to really get to me. After being on hold for a long time, I spoke to a midwife who asked if I could stay at home a while longer because, "we're a bit full at the moment". Terry wasn't pleased with that! I got the usual - take some paracetamol and have a bath - but we didn't have any paracetamol. I said I'd try and stick it out and then I phoned my parents.
I spoke to my mum first, she gave me the paracetamol and bath line (here's the thing, baths don't help me when I'm in pain, they just remind me that it hurts. I'm stuck in one place and can't move around so much. I'm the kind of person to thrash around or at least walk around when I'm in a lot of pain). She told me to keep going, call her if anything happened, and to call her when we went to the hospital. Then I phoned my dad - he was sleepy, seemed happy but none to concerned as I was basically telling him "I'm in labour but it's probably early and I'm not going into hospital yet". Again, I said I would call if I went to the hospital.
We'd run out of cigarettes and the pain was quite intenseso me and Terry went to the 24 hour garage to get some paracetamol. I drove - probably not the best idea in the world but it hurt quite a lot and it also helped to get out of the house. My parking was the worst ever though! I was past caring by that point.
When we got back Terry called his mum up. They were on the phone for ages. I was pacing the living room floor, having contractions which were coming quite quickly, and shooting daggers at Terry every time he looked at me. He finally got the hint and told her he'd call her back if anything happened. I didn't mean to get so mad with him but I needed his help - encouraging words, back rubs, everything. It was starting to hurt so much and I was scared that I wouldn't be able to cope later on.
Finally at 7am I cracked and rang the hospital again. They said ok, come on in. Terry got my bag, I rang my parents again and Terry rang his mum. I had an awful conversation with my mum, it was my grandmother's funeral and I had to know when I could contact her. I remember her telling me she would me with my grandad until about 11, then I couldn't contact her between 12 and about half 1. I didn't think there would be anything to tell her around then anyways. I called the taxi, and we went to the hospital.
When we got there we were shown to a room by a midwife who asked me how close together the contractions were (every 3-4 minutes) and if my waters had broken (no), She then gave me suck a hacky look I nearly thumped her - what was her problem? She made me feel like I was a silly little girl who didn't know what she was talking about. I'd been getting a lot of dark looks from people during my pregnancy. I know I'm not old by any means and I look around my age, so I'm assuming people were thinking that I was a stupid girl who didn't know what contraception was and now she has no man and no life living off the council. Well, just to set the record straight here and now - my baby was planned, I have a full time job with a regular income, I have a boyfriend whom I adore and who adores me. I have an eternity ring he gave me before I got pregnant which I wear on the thrid finger of my left hand. It's a promise he made that we would be together forever and that he loves me. He wants to propose when he has enough money to buy me a beautiful engagement ring. So there!
Anyway - another midwife came in, and did the basic checks like blood pressure and baby's heartbeat. The contractions were hurting a lot by then so I got given gas and air. Didn't do anything but made me feel light headed at the end of a contraction.
Then the day shift came in so I got a new midwife who had a student with her. She felt my tummy and examined me - I was 5 cms gone. And so it began...
I just remember that the pain got stronger, although I don't remember the actual pain. I was strapped to the monitors the whole time, so I couldn't move around. They kept feeling my tummy which brought on the contractions and I kept trying to move away. I'm usually quite shy in front of strangers/medical professionals but at that point I really didn't care. I remember screaming. I remember begging them for some more pain relief - pethedine, epidural, I wanted it all. I remember them putting antibiotics through a drip in my hand, but I had to keep my hand still, and I had about 3 contractions while they were doing it. I remember telling Terry over and over again that I couldn't do it, I couldn't. He jut stroked my head and held my hand and told me I could and I was. He was amazing.
The room filled with people - I don't remember when or why. I told the midwife I wanted to push. My legs were in stirrups. There was a foreign doctor and a woman there, another man too. The doctor at some point left the room and came back and said "still pregnant then?". I nearly killed him. I was pushing but I was scared to at the same time. Eventually, they used a ventouse and my baby son was born.
It was the hardest, most painful, scariest, amazing, rewarding thing I have ever done.