Christmas, Labour, Pregnancy

Part 11: Why You Should Always Be Aware Of Your Baby’s Movements In Pregnancy

We are six days from Christmas now, and I’m getting worried. Despite all the excitement, little man didn’t make an appearance.

The midwife told me to now opt for sex to bring on labour. I’ve done pineapple, I have done curry and spice, I have attempted raspberry leaf tea, walking. Everything except that.
Because the problem is (as you know from this post), Beard will not go near me with a barge pole. He won’t even look me in the eye through fear of making me pregnant again!
With the pelvic pain, the impending Christmas cheer, and my severe need for Prosecco, I beg him for 1 minute (for medicinal purposes only) but am informed, a categoric no, because it borders on paedophilia, according to Beard.
To get my own back on his unwillingness, I refuse to make him lunch and do not say goodbye as he goes off to work. Instead, I eat cake and stomp around the house, cleaning everything.

An hour later, oooohhh what is that? Eeeek. 8 minutes later. 30 seconds of ouch. 8 minutes later… And so it continues.

This is it. The stage is set – this is go go go. I call Beard and tell him to be prepared and stay local. We are finally going to meet our little squidge!!!!!

While waiting for Beard to come home from work, I decided to take a bath, chill out, breathe through the contractions and stay at home as long as possible.
Using my relaxing Molton Brown Ylang Ylang Body Wash, listening to Chill FM on the radio and lighting my new The Birthing Shirt Company Aromatherapy Candle for labour; the smell from the candle instantly reminds me of being in a spa relaxing and enjoying a facial. It smells amazing, and while it’s not taking me away from the pains entirely, it’s certainly taking the edge off of them.

This is how I pictured the initial stages of labour – chilled out and patiently waiting to see our new addition. But there is only one incredibly strange and random problem. Last night, I decided to use eBay and a local Facebook selling page to shift all the stuff in our spare room that I have intended to do for months. I’m not sure if it was the nesting stage coming through a tad too late, or just impatience setting in. But the fact is, I have a load of stuff that I now need to deliver, today, and I am currently in labour.

Despite the minor issue of my baby rapidly trying to vacate my body, I decide the most responsible thing to do is not let those people down. I must deliver these items that people have purchased, probably last minute in time for Christmas. I said I would provide them today and despite the slight issue of possibly giving birth while on route to someone I do not know, I have to stick to the original plans. The customer comes first, after all.

I am unable to drive. Don’t ever drive when you are in labour! So Beard comes home from work, and we turn into DHL. But more efficient 😉
To be honest, it passes the time. Although very quickly I go from contractions every 8 minutes, lasting 30 seconds, to every 5 minutes.
I call the labour ward unsure of when I am supposed to come in and am told to wait until they are every 3 minutes and lasting at least 45 seconds. The midwife I speak to sounds lovely and I hope she will be the one viewing my vagina for what feels like an eternity in a few hours.

As I stand on poor Laura’s doorstep to deliver a TV, I feel that rumbling build-up and… oh… shite… breathe… Jesus… oooooh…. eeeek……. arghhh……… phew. But in the middle of that contraction, Laura answers the door, and I am doing my “breathe-breathe ARRGGHHHHH” stage. She looks terrified as I stand there panting holding a remote control, and a TV bracket, gripping onto her doorframe as if my life depended on it. Beard is in the background holding a 32″ flat-screen TV smiling; “sorry about the state of my wife – she’s actually in labour – but insisted she delivered all these things she’s sold on Facebook before she gives birth”.

Once the contraction subsides, I explain why I am standing on her doorstep and what is going on, but she still looks utterly bewildered as to why I am there. I think she thinks I may be insane.
I’m not sure anyone has ever experienced a woman in labour delivering a TV they have sold on Facebook for £90. Dedication, that’s what that is. Excellent customer satisfaction. Five stars. If you say you are going to provide a service – you should. And I did – for 3 hours – while my contractions got more frequent and increasing in pain each time.

We arrive home ready to continue labouring for a little while longer, then they stop. Just stop instantly. Nothing. Two hours later, there is still nothing. It’s almost as like it never happened. We decide to give the dog a brisk two-mile walk – that will get things going again.

Nope.

Nothing.

Beard collects the older boys from school, and you can see they aren’t only disappointed that I am still at home, but they are disgusted! Utterly repulsed as they walk through the porch; “Are you STILL here, Mum?? Are you sure you’re having a baby?!”

To pass the time, the boys make the executive decision that I should drink copious amounts of Raspberry Leaf Tea, bounce around on the ball (again) and play Game of Life (again) just like in that other disastrous blog post.

The lovely midwife I spoke to earlier said I should keep them informed. So after a few rolls of the dice, I call them to admit (and almost cry) it’s all stopped. She then says something I wasn’t expecting, “but the baby has been moving as normal today, yes?”

“No.”

The baby hasn’t now I stop and think of it.
He is always immensely lively but he’s hardly moved at all today. In fact, I don’t think he has kicked since early this morning prior to the contractions. I’ve been so busy running around delivering things I haven’t paid any attention to his movements.

Oh god.

How could I not notice this?!

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