10/30 - MY BEST FOUR YEARS, IF YOU ASK ME
Don't mind me making my baby little older when I say about four year
motherhood experience and joy it brings. I wanted to share my birth story at some points during my virtual
existence but it never seemed right or thought out enough so I didn't.
Until now. After four years of a being mum. Her mum.
I knew I wanted to have children even prior to my ovaries producing any eggs (maybe I exaggerate a little but that's so true, I was a mama before I knew it). Growing older I imagined having large family of at least four (!) heirs/heiresses (was it an influence of being The Kelly Family fan?) and most ideally having son as my first born. Little Staś (Stanislav) would be a resemblance of my brother with his blonde locks and deep blue eyes chasing his shadows on the polished floors of my house. I fell in love with my husband and it would feel obvious that we'd have had child(ren) straight away. But through our foreign journeys, settling down abroad and generally getting ready for the life ahead together we spent six years as a twosome. This is a long time for somebody who loves children and hoped to have their own. We kind of hibernated and postponed the most beautiful outcome of a natural human (in love) behaviour. I tend to blame it on the circumstances we were surrounded by - renting a room or having a studio flat was not a proper accommodation to raise a child.
I knew I wanted to have children even prior to my ovaries producing any eggs (maybe I exaggerate a little but that's so true, I was a mama before I knew it). Growing older I imagined having large family of at least four (!) heirs/heiresses (was it an influence of being The Kelly Family fan?) and most ideally having son as my first born. Little Staś (Stanislav) would be a resemblance of my brother with his blonde locks and deep blue eyes chasing his shadows on the polished floors of my house. I fell in love with my husband and it would feel obvious that we'd have had child(ren) straight away. But through our foreign journeys, settling down abroad and generally getting ready for the life ahead together we spent six years as a twosome. This is a long time for somebody who loves children and hoped to have their own. We kind of hibernated and postponed the most beautiful outcome of a natural human (in love) behaviour. I tend to blame it on the circumstances we were surrounded by - renting a room or having a studio flat was not a proper accommodation to raise a child.
Trying for a baby and getting pregnant within two weeks or so of trying was
beyond amazing. We just got married and wanted to fill up the air with
giggles and our hearts with unconditional love for the life we were
about to create. I was madly in love with all the signs of expecting - I
looked out for tenderness in my breasts and popping out belly button
(which in fact never did, big deal). I laughed at every hiccup within my
growing body and chased each move of a serious kick. I didn't mind
stretch marks (not so sure now) or leg cramps, even heartburn was
okay. They all come and go. I was invincible, my body was determined to
perform as its best to bring me the most wonderful miracle I could ever
dream of. Soon after my pregnancy status was confirmed I had a
premonition I was carrying a little doll. Teenage longing for a son has
been replaced by an unimaginable yearning to put every effort in raising
a happy, strong (not mistaken for stubborn), spreading creative juices
girl. Seems strange after years of picturing myself savouring tight
gripped hugs of a boy, combing his golden locks and go flying kites in
the clear sky. I guess it's got a lot to do with me preserving moments
of my early childhood in a girlie notebook thanks to emotionally drained at times
conversations with my mum about a whirlwind of good and adverse affairs
which have created my first perception of how to communicate with the
world and others and which made me a chatty, happy and smart little girl
no matter what was happening around. I wrote about that girl in an
attempt of giving her much delayed approval and support. So I guess I've
fallen in love with the idea of being given an opportunity of having a
little girl myself and taking up every second of my time to make up for
all the things my upbringing has lacked and many more beautiful
things that has been brought along with it.
At first I wanted to be surprised by the baby's sex (I felt we humans live in a world of wanting/needing predictability in every area of our lives so we keep surprises to a freaking minimum. Even weather is no longer a surprise these days.) I decided - we would meet our muffin the day it will be ready to maximize space in my belly. The evening before the twenty week scan when we could find out the sex I took a warm bath. At the back of my head I was still battling with myself whether getting to know the sex would be a good decision. And then I felt it for the first time, a tiny move, not even a kick (those she left for later), just like a scuff on the side. Did she know what was going on in my head so she could react to it, help me make up my mind, let me know she wanted to be greeted tomorrow and talked to with female adjectives? Why wouldn't I want to find out when I had the greatest opportunity to do so? I was overjoyed to soon get to know my baby: what would she look like, when will her personality show through? So I found out who was poking me right from within saying 'hello'. A mummy's girl, Little Pumpkin as I used to call her when she stayed safe, close (and hiccupy). The happiest and most challenging 40 weeks of my life abounded in sweet Nutella taste, laughter from tiniest of things, no sickness at all (thank you, Heavens!) and filling up wardrobe with dresses and tops of one tenth of my size. I stopped working two weeks before I got to see my feet again to nice lazy fortnight of pacing slowly around the house and close neighbourhood in the low streaks of late September sun. Name chosen, hospital bag packed, birth plan memorized.
A birth story cut short (for the space purposes): on baby's due date everything started as described in books
for frightened mamas preparing for the eventful moment. My waters
broke, contractions were getting stronger and more and more closer
apart. Impatiently waiting for hospital admittance in a bath tub full
of warm water to speed up the progress of labor as advised by the
midwife I actually found myself to feel the urge to push. And so it
started... in my own bathroom. I barely got dressed between two-three
minutes apart contractions, jumped on the rear seat of my car (jumped,
ha! you wish) and was driven to the hospital to meet my baby girl. We made it to the delivery room on time, an
hour later (yes, most of the labor happened in my bath tub which left
me really cross with the English system of keeping women at home as
long as possible to avoid long labors on the spot. The positive outcome
of nearly having her delivered at home? No epidural (just gas and air,
rarely used), no episiotomy, quick and natural (no forceps or vacuum)
delivery. I shouldn't be so ungrateful after all) at 1.31 pm I held her for the first time.
Physically exhausted and surgically abused (stitched) I've started a new
chapter in my life. Nadia Dolores
has proven to be worth the pain, tears and dizziness (gas and air).
She was there to get entwined with hugs, kisses and mama's first
whispers into tiny ears.
I've spent the best four years of my life with you, little Miss Nadia. x
^^ This post is part of my 30 day Blogging challenge asking simple question whether the participant wants to have children or if has any. As I've already answered this question before, I thought a little story about a miracle being materialized in my arms is an unexpected but sweet option for a post. Do you agree? ^^
^^ This post is part of my 30 day Blogging challenge asking simple question whether the participant wants to have children or if has any. As I've already answered this question before, I thought a little story about a miracle being materialized in my arms is an unexpected but sweet option for a post. Do you agree? ^^
9 comments
Oh!!! Great photos!!! Such a pretty and cute girl! Thank you for stopping by!
ReplyDeleteCome back soon to visit me on The Notebook of a Fashion Lover
Evi xoxo
Oh, she's absolutely delightful! I bet you are the proudest mother in the world to have such a bundle of loveliness in your life - you will never be without sunshine with her around! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for your sweet comment! I adore your blog and am following you now! <3
Hope you will come and pop by soon!
Following on bloglovin' now <3
<3 Mandy xx
http://frocksandotherfrivolities.blogspot.com
Yes, you're so right. I've got my sunshine no matter the weather forecast! x
DeleteHi Eli,
ReplyDeleteMiss Nadia is so precious and you must be so very proud of her.
I enjoyed reading about your birth - sounds a lot like my babies - I just had gas and air - it was hard work but so happy when Victoria arrived in 5 hours - Marcel was delivered at home in 3 hours. The great part about it the babies were alert - it was hard work and the stitches from the tears all worth it.
hugs
Carolyn
You're right, Carolyn. Labour is experience like no other and pain soon is removed from the mind leaving room for love and pride in the shape of a tiny bundle of joy hugged closer than anyone before. x
DeleteThis is a beautiful post, Eli! Nadia is lucky to have such a wonderful mother. I think it's amazing that you knew you wanted children for so long and were able to have one after only two weeks! Incredible.
ReplyDeleteI think we were lucky to get pregnant so soon.
DeleteWe started trying after our wedding (beginning of December) and at the end of January I was already six weeks pregnant :)
Four years and we've done hundreds miles, adventures and visited so many wonderful places to show Nadia our beautiful world! :) PS will be many, many more... xxx
ReplyDeleteYes, every year brings new challenges but most of all things that I am so grateful for! xx
Delete