
Expectations vs Childbirth
Note: My intention is for this to be the only explicitly had-a-kid-focused post here, because while it was and is a huge deal for me the last thing the internet needs is another mum-blog. And the last thing my child needs is information about them online before they can even hold up their head. Besides, this is my blog, it's all about me, dammit!
So we just had a baby. I'm a very anxious person by default, so when my due date started approaching I was obsessed with the NHS pages on what you need for labour and newborn essentials. I was also somewhat in denial, though, so when baby arrived two weeks early our stuff situation was not nearly as ready as we'd have liked - e.g. we had baby's "next-to-me" bed set up well ahead of time, but only installed the car seat at midnight while I was already in early labour (baby was born the following day).
Anyway, that list of what you need for labour felt excessive to start with, but with so many other lists either cribbing from it or agreeing with it we still packed most of it. I gave the slippers, dressing gown, and pillows a miss, because everything else already filled a small sports bag and most of two backpacks, but dutifully packed the rest. I did have a donut cushion in the car for the ride home, though - that thing was a godsend for keeping the pressure off stitches.
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The list including items like snacks and entertainment, plus an earlier tour of the delivery ward with the consultant midwife showing us all the calming doodads, gave the impression that I'd be passing quite a bit of labour time in the delivery suite room. The reality ended up being quite different. In hindsight it may have been due to the ward being very busy, at the time it just felt like very mixed messaging.
Instead of spending time pacing around a delivery room, listening to music or reading a book, I was encouraged to stay at home for as long as possible. Over the course of the day I called the midwife line 4 times, went into hospital and was sent home because I couldn't tolerate a physical examination, then ultimately spent two hours in an assessment unit room until I felt the need to push and it was too late to do anything for the pain (of the examination or the labour) other than very ineffectual gas and air.
When I finally made it to a delivery room I could barely move from the pain and the pushing. My eyes were shut, so the cutesy affirmations on the wall were moot. There was no mention of the fairy lights or pretty-pattern-projector-thing we'd been shown before. It was all about pushing and being told not to scream (because it "wastes the energy upward rather than down into pushing" - FUCK that).

Less than two hours later our baby was born, and we needed less than half of the crap we'd brought, but did need some extras I'd not accounted for, like more baby outfits. Changing nappies has a learning curve.