Today we went on a tour of the hospital. I know, I’ve been there plenty of times before! But I wanted Simon and I to be reminded of where we need to go when the big day comes, and I had heard some of the layout had changed. We got to the tour a bit late, but caught the rest of the group of about 7 couples going up the stairs. We followed right behind them, up the stairs onto the ward and straight into the room where I gave birth to Reuben.
I broke down in tears within seconds. I was hit with a huge wall of emotions. This was where my body went through pure agony and torture. But this was also where I got to hold my first child for the very first time. How could my brain reconcile the emotions that come with those 2 events? On the one hand ‘fight or flight’ was kicking in, and my brain was telling me to run from this place that I associated with severe pain. On the other hand, my brain wanted to survey the room and reminisce about that beautiful feeling of having my newborn on my chest, calming at the sound of my voice.
My tears were those kind of noisy, embarrassing ones, which alternate with huge gulps of air. Very embarrassing, as 14 pairs of eyes turned to look at me! The tour guide decided to quickly guide us all to a different room, after my husband explained that I had given birth to our first son there. I can’t imagine what this group of first time parents must have thought of me! Hopefully they all thought I was being melodramatic and remained blissfully naive about the trauma to come. Certainly when the guide talked about all the snacks you could bring in, and how you could relax in one of the bath tubs, I was the only one inclined to laugh at the absurd thought of eating and ‘relaxing’ through contractions!
To really top off my emotional trip down memory lane, the tour then went on to the recovery ward. Straight to…the bed where I recovered with Reuben.
This all served to make me realise that I can no longer ignore this. At some point…in the near future…I am going to have to give birth again.
This poor baby has pretty much been ignored the past 8 months. There have always been more ‘important’ things to think about. Like moving house. Or looking after Reuben. Making an emotional connection with my bump has been low on my list of priorities. And acknowledging the fact that I have to give birth? Well I was downright choosing to ignore that fact!
I’ve been really emotional all day. Reality has kicked in, and that reality is that I am just not ready to have this baby yet. For a start, we don’t even know whether we will be living in our flat or our new home when the baby is born. Which means I can’t nest or get anything ready. This is causing me huge amounts of stress! How can I prepare for a baby when I don’t know where to prepare?!? If I get all the baby stuff down from the loft, and unpack all the vacuum packed clothes, rebuild the crib, get out all the toys etc….am I going to have to pack it all up again?
I feel like I need to know where the baby will be when I bring it home. And I want to make that home a beautiful, welcoming place for the baby. At the moment it’s a mess of moving boxes and piles to be sorted.
We also haven’t bought anything for the baby. Poor little second child! I haven’t had a moment to consider what he might need. I guess there’s not much to buy for a second boy, but a new hospital outfit would be a good start.
All of these emotions, and my general hormonal-ness have left me feeling angry. Like, really really pent up angry!! I don’t know why it’s manifesting itself as anger. Probably because otherwise I would cry all day. I just feel like everything needs to be kicked and shouted at. I have managed to not scream or shout during a whole afternoon of activities with Simon’s family. I kept it together.
But if I don’t get a punch bag soon I am going to explode.