baby

Iona Elspeth Born 10th September 10lbs 2oz

41 weeks and 3 days of pregnancy = a fat little bundle of baby with a 38cm head that I could not birth! My sweet one was not my hoped for second vbac, but a c-section. A surgery that opened my body on the medical alter but which perhaps has closed many wounds I have carried about surgery and childbirth. You see I hated my first two son's sections. I felt weak and failing to have had them. Triumphant then when I birthed Esmé whole and intact on my bathroom floor. I dreamed a lot this pregnancy about hospitals and knew in a weird way this baby, Iona, would be born the way she was. Or near enough. It was nothing like a lack of confidence in myself or body, more a knowing that she was not coming out. Not by my or her efforts. I was carrying twice the amount of amniotic fluid, an extra large placenta and of course extra large baby. In the time it took to labour and birth my last girl, I was still only at one cm with Iona. It just never felt quite right her labour. I felt right and at peace with the c-section choice. Even though for the die-hard birth folks I am a freak and cop out. I am neither. I choose the option best for my body and baby at the time. I sound like I am justifying something here. And I don't want to! Or feel the need. But that is often the way with c-sections.

I had lots of scar pain at the onset of labour which led us to transfer to hospital where it eased off. But after ten hours of labour and a very low blood pressure I am not sure my scar tissue would have coped with more labour. When I found out I was pregnant with Iona it was all about her. Not about The Birth. Like the culmination of my other pregnancy thoughts. It was about her (who by the way I really thought was a he). I just wanted her so badly in my arms. I remember saying way back that this time it was nothing about the birth, that I didn't much care, I just wanted my baby, in my arms. And it came to pass.

She is here. And I will be greedy and stare at her all day long. Glory in her being. Triumphant. Don and I cried when she came out pink, huge and screaming. He rocked her in his arms with tears and leaned over so I could kiss her about every 30 seconds. Where my own tears ran all down to my ears. Life is unexpected. And now, 10 days later I am still overawed that I have another daughter. I mean, I knit everything blue ! :lol

Welcome my sweet peaceful baby. You were loved before we saw you and now a million times more. You are worth the aching body and separated tummy muscles. I'd do it again. Tomorrow.