She's Here! - Lottie's Birth Story
Posted on May 19 2017
Lottie has been blogging for us at babyluno.com for a few months and lately it has been a little bit quiet because her new bundle of joy has finally arrived! A huge congratulations to Lottie and welcome baby Scarlett! We absolutely love birth stories so we are thrilled that Lottie wanted to share her story with us and all you readers :). So take a deep breath and enjoy this one.
I was so over pregnancy. So over being a waddling, water hog unable to lie on my tummy and restricted by my own body. Ungrateful mummy-to-be, just desperate to meet my little girl and hold her in my arms. The longing to see her was a constant gnawing ache and when that wait went over the finish line, well frankly I was Iike an ants nest on the attack. For my personal sanity I taught my final spin class at 40 weeks and hoped to ride her out... but no cigar... no little baby.
The greatest achievement of my ridiculous life so far came into the world three days late, doing even better than her mother when it comes to poor time keeping, and that, you gorgeous people, is my focus in this blog... my daughter's helter skelter journey head first into life.
Before I go into full gory details I want you to hold this thought in your mind, especially if you are a preggo and bossing it but worried about labour... I would genuinely a squillion, million times go through my labour again over being pregnant, genuinely.
It started off as a hope, I hoped my waters had broken but it turns out they hadn't. However, the midwives were concerned about the lack of fluid surrounding baby girl so it was agreed induction by pessary would be tried. My body was so desperate to meet my girl though that it got too excited, hit overdrive, and intense contractions started after about ten minutes. Buglet wasn't happy and had a "braddy", queue panic and me being prepped for an emergency c-section with hubby and I staring at each other super worried about this little life that we had created. Initially I had thought the midwife had said she was having a "paddy", assuming she was just kicking off, and having a tantrum, thinking like mother like daughter, but, turns out her heart rate had dropped and things needed to pick up quickly. The little tease did pick up and the pessary was whipped out and c-section aborted.
Personally, I wanted to do everything to avoid a c-section so I sobbed with relief. Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with a c-section, just a lot wrong with me and an incapability to stay still and not be an idiot when it comes to any healing process. I just knew if I had one I would be a nightmare and would put my family through constant worry that I would get an infected wound, whereas for some unknown reason, natural labour I felt would put me more in tune with my body and its capabilities. I really can't explain the logic, as there is none, but that's just how my thought processing works.
I was then induced very slowly by a drip and it was really at this point that I fell in love with every midwife and member of team there, especially the incredible Nina Kellow, who held my hand while my husband stroked my head during my terror at having my waters manually broken. It's amazing how fear is simply a manifestation of the unknown, the mind always imagines a monster when given the chance to brood and worry, and that is where education from antenatal classes combined with lovely, caring midwives are essential, with their ability to swoop down and knock those demons away.
For four hours I laboured, breathing my way through contractions and using gas and air... even hubby had a cheeky sneak of it! Then after about two hours, I asked for an epidural and it was dreamy!
I couldn't feel the pain and the sickness of the gas and air was a distant memory. I was checked after four hours and had barely dilated anymore... there was a history of a stubborn cervix, too scarred to budge so the lovely midwife and registrar gave it a helping hand as they knew how much I wanted to push her out myself and I was allowed another four hours. I've got to say all through his my man was a superhero... he did not leave my side, we lost all concept of night and day, we were just a team, I felt so supported, so safe and so loved. He cocooned our little family and together we watched our chrysalis reveal a butterfly. My parents, the amazing, Houdinis that they are, also dropped by, and seeing their faces, especially my mother's, as my father was so close to the furthest wall from the bed that you'd be forgiven for mistaking him for the latest wallpaper design, made my tenacity harden and my mind strengthen. Still, Dad asking if I had watched "warship" mid contraction was answered with an eye rolling "bit busy now dad".
So another four hours had passed and blessedly my cervix was fully dilated and I was given two hours to rest before the final push. Hubby took a towel and laid in the bathroom and I chatted to the latest amazing fairy godmother of a midwife in a surreal limbo knowing my daughter was just a couple of hours away from meeting her mummy and daddy.
When the big push came I had the cheerleading squad on hand. All the team were encouraging me to push, my husband was telling me how proud he was of me, I felt like such a lioness as I pushed with all my might till I felt my eyes might pop out of my head. Little one teased again with a 'Braddy' so it ended up being forceps and an episiotomy, but I will never forget that final push. The overwhelming urge to get it done, to see my girl, to hold my husband's hand, to end the labour, it's like a cacophony of emotions coupled with a raw, primal instinct. That last push, oh that last push, I roared like a tiger and the registrar pulled with the forceps like an alligator's death roll and my girl, my girl, my baby girl, was there, she was there; the IVF, the arguments, the heartaches, the failures, the issues of pregnancy, the months of going into the nursery fingering tiny baby grows wondering if I would ever get to meet her, the nights of tears, the nights of anger, the fears and the nerves, everything collided together and exploded in the moment I got to hold her in my arms, this perfect little creation, I looked into my husband's eyes as if to say "look what I've done, we did it, we made it."
That night at 00:50 on the 13th April 2017, Scarlett Evelyn Keble-Wyatt came into our lives, and she totally and utterly completes me, I have a love for her that overwhelms me. She has made my husband a Father and I am so unbelievably proud to say she has made my dreams come true for I'm a Mother now, and from now on it's me and my girl.
Lottie Keble-Wyatt is Baby Luno's very own blogger. Lottie is a pilates instructor, new mother and blogger. We can't wait to follow her journey as she takes on motherhood!
To get more of Lottie, follow her on Instagram @just_the_girl_fitness