40 weeks of waiting and pondering the change that was to come to the family feels like a long time. Early pregnancy for me is filled with fear and sickness. A previous miscarriage and ectopic pregnancy has robbed me of the joy of early pregnancy. When that second line appears on the pregnancy test my mind drifts back to the vivid memories of the pain that I had once felt as I lost two precious babies. A constant inner struggle ensues as I seek to still my fears of loss and seek to rest wholly in the One who is the giver of life. The sickness envelopes me and renders me bed bound at times, but with children to care for there is not much rest and each day is a struggle and I cry out to God to sustain me. The second trimester brought relief as scans showed that the baby was growing well and the sickness had started to ease. Food tasted nice once more and energy returned to my weary limbs. At the 4 month mark we began to share our news with family and friends. Our first pregnancy announcement for our eldest received many congratulations however strangely on a 4th pregnancy announcement congratulations were given but closely followed with tentative questions of how will I cope? and was it planned?! I quickly learned to smile and assure the naysayers that we knew what we were doing and we would cope. The third trimester meant that preparations were to be made, clothes to be washed, new beds to be made, a new car purchased and hospital bags packed. My previous labours had got quicker with each baby, with my 3rd baby being born within 30 minutes from the first contraction. Needless to say I was anxious of another quick delivery, so quick that my husband who worked an hour from home may not make it to the birth on time, so quick that help not even make it to my home. My phone was filled with hospital numbers and midwife numbers, Mr Social was briefed with the plan and shown how to call for help, a big task for a 7 year old. My due date came and went (as usual) and the tension built as I increasingly felt like a ticking time bomb. The final week of pregnancy was filled with aches and pains and contractions and still time ticked on. 6 days after my due date I woke to a familiar anxiety that made me restless and uneasy. Not being able to sit down and eat breakfast I recognised the feeling, what I call the calm before the storm. This was going to be baby day. I promptly showered and dressed and attempted to motivate the family into action, but without contractions I couldn't quite convince Mr Faithful to get ready any quicker. Slow and steady was the pace. However that was not going to be the pace of the impending arrival. Barely as my husband's feet touched dry land after showering the all too familiar pain came of a labour contraction, building and tightening with a ferocious intensity. No timing of contractions was going to take place however as calls were immediately made to the hospital and to family members who were going to look after our children. I was not waiting, To hospital I was going and quickly. On arrival at the hospital I breathed a sigh of relief and having only experienced one contraction in the car I thought I had got away lightly. A brisk walk (maybe more of a shuffle) to the midwife led unit and I was home and dry so to speak. A lovely midwife greeted me and showed me to an assessment room. As soon as she got me in to the room it was almost as if my body knew it was safe to labour as almost immediately, like a rushing train with fireworks in it's engine, contractions started strong and fast. The pain took me to my knees and I knew I was not being moved, not even on to a nice comfy bed only feet away. Kneeling and leaning into a chair I took each contraction, breathed and thanked God each one was a step nearer to meeting our long awaited son. The midwife was calm and collected and with gentle words of encouragement tried to assess how far I was into labour...no assessment was necessary really as baby was born still in his membranes, a mere 20 minutes after arrival at the hospital (roughly making this labour a 45 minute affair). Sobbing (probably more with relief) I was able to pick up my baby boy and meet him for the first time. Joy, such sweet joy filled my heart and another precious moment was etched into my heart forever.
Our new son makes this our 4th boy, 4 bundles of fun, and he is a happy and healthy 8 week old now. We have been adjusting well to the new addition and his brothers adore him. Yes we have our tearful days but as I write now, the 2 eldest are doing their school work, the toddler is colouring (maybe a little more table than paper), the baby is sleeping and I have a freshly brewed cup of coffee in my hand. Right now, this is a peaceful moment and it won't be the only one.
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