Breakfast day 3 saw me up early walking with my daughters, breathing in smoke that has been wafting around since yesterday afternoon. We live high on a range and below us and to the North of us there are a lot of bushfires at the moment. Last night the smoke drifted in, I rushed out to get clothes off the line and this morning the smoke still lingers. We walked anyway. I had intended to have a smoothie and crumpet but found the milk nearly gone and my plans changed. So beans, bacon, tomatoes and cottage cheese it was. Then I read the headline of the paper. Mum broadcasts delivery on radio. The story tells of the announcers asking the question of their audience "what are you doing up this early in the morning?" Well Hannah the mum in this tale was at the hospital in the throws of giving birth. She said the pain was pretty intense when she heard them ask the question and she thought that calling them might help her focus on something else. COME ON PEOPLE is she kidding me!!!!
Now I know I cheated two pregnancies and 3 children out of that, so I was able to skip a third pregnancy and maybe giving birth today isn't what I remember it to be some 20 years ago. But calling the radio station to tell everyone I am about to give birth is NOT NOT NOT my idea of pain relief. I recall vividly the birth or my 3 daughters. All were c sections, I have what they call failure to proceed. In other words I only dilate so far and then stop. Hey I figure my job is done here, I carried you guys for 9 months, I got the sore feet, swollen ankles, huge breasts, stretch marks, painful back aches, nausea, fat I will now have to walk my butt off to lose, hey you can do something to get yourselves outta there. But nah and I end up under the knife. Thanks guys. I do not recall ever being in the frame of mind to call the local radio or tv station, just to let them know I am about to have a needle shoved into my spine and my tummy cut open.
I remember Alicia my precious first born arriving on Easter Monday morning in 1984. I remember Adrian watching a re run of the original Titanic on the hospital tv while I was in huffing and panting and having that darn needle put in my back. Bend over, touch your toes so your spine opens up ok, yeah right you try bending over with a belly the size of a prize winning watermelon. They make it sound easy, believe me it isn't. Then out she comes hours later with a head full of the most beautiful black hair. The most beautiful eyes and tiny pouty mouth. So beautiful and as we found out soon after so loud. Ah the experience of motherhood what compares?
Then I can recall the 11 days I spent in hospital before the birth of my wonderful twins, Ashleigh & Danielle on the 11th October 1989. I recall once again the huge, huge, gigantic, enormous, mamoth belly I had. I had an 18DD bra size that's like huge ladies. I am just 5 feet tall so I was looking a little top and front heavy. I recall again the bend over stretch your spine touch your toes orders, yeak like that was happening!!!! I remember that darn needle again and the cutting open part, no pain just a whole lot of pressure and a whole lot of swooshing water gushing all over the floor. I recall the doctor saying oh my goodness what a big head this one has and my freaking out thinking what's wrong with my baby. Then I can remember them saying the same thing about the second baby, by now I was really worried, thinking maybe the girls had something wrong with them. We had been hoping for a boy and a girl and when we were told we had two girls, I hate to admit it I was a bit disappointed. Then they said to us they are identical, they thought, and I was elated. How exciting identical twin girls. Well they are mirror image twins, one is right handed one is left. They are somewhat identical, but then again sometimes not. But they are beautiful, even though their big sister wasn't that keen on all the attention they got in the beginning. She had been the pampered princess until then. Hey I can remember all this about the births of my 3 daughters and no where in there was the desire to call the radio station. I don't know what I was thinking, fancy not sharing all the wooshing, cutting, groaning, worrying, crying, laughing, kissing, with all those people out there in radio land.
I look forward in the years to come to recalling many more things about my girls, and my family as it grows. Some will be so private and precious we won't share that with anyone. Some witll be so joyous and exciting it will be hard not to tell the world. Some may even be worthy of that phone call early in the morning to the radio station. Who knows, maybe it will.