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This summer my girls turn twelve and that means it is twelve
years since I was last pregnant, I can’t quite believe that if I am honest, it
feels like it was only a couple of years back; the memories are so vivid.
Despite not having the easiest pregnancies or best birth experiences either
time, I absolutely loved being pregnant as I felt so special. Growing a small
human is an absolute privilege that not everyone gets to enjoy.
I so clearly remember being at work in 2003 and this veil of
tiredness fell over me as I sat at my desk. I immediately went out to buy a pregnancy
test and recall sitting in the loo silently screaming and thumping the air with
elation when the two little lines appeared! My pregnancy with JJ was a good one
generally, I was a model student, attending all the classes, reading all the
literature, chatting to other pregnant women and mothers, and I think I knew
nearly as much as the midwives.
As I’d had such a good pregnancy and done all the things I
was supposed to do, I truly believed that I’d have this idyllic water birth.
We’d been encouraged in our classes to write a birth plan and mine was full of
ideas of soothing music, easing the pain in the warm water and my husband by my
side. The reality was quite different; I was forced to have an induction as I had
pre-eclampsia, that then failed and my baby getting distressed, so I was
whizzed through for a C section, but the spinal blocks and epidural didn’t work
so I ended up with a crash section under general anaesthetic.





