I was reading one of my old posts about defrosting our fridge and my memory started leapfrogging with my thoughts inside my mind, I read how I started off small, melting the giant ice-cube which was threatening to engulf the top shelf of the fridge, with a hairdryer, then I slowly progressed through the “Tools at hand“, giving up on the spatula, jabbing at it with a screw driver, and finally whacking it with my claw hammer.
My mind took a sideways step to just last week, to arriving home with our Christmas food shopping bags full and realising that I’d forgotten to rescue the fridge from the more recent monstrous ice-cube. Time was limited by the shopping so this time, instead of slowly progressing through the stages, I went straight for the hammer – and I should add here, with very satisfying results.
My memory took a giant lurch into the past, to the birth of Eldest Daughter.
Mother Nature and Father Time have colluded here because if you were to remember every detail of childbirth then there’s no way on earth you would do it again and eventually each two people would only produce one baby and the human race would slowly die out so you forget what you actually put your body through to make your little bundle of joy … Until next time, the contractions start and every part of your body screams at you for what you’ve done to it again.
Being my first born, I didn’t really know what I was in for, I hadn’t been to any of those pre-baby classes so, as is mostly my nature, I just went with the flow and did as I was told.
I was given a little tube and told to breath deeply every time the pain arrived. Personally I think this was just a distraction technique because although I started to feel a little like the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland, a little unfocused in my own cloud of smoke the pains didn’t go away.
Next I was given an injection in my leg, I can assure you it wasn’t my leg which was hurting, but after a little while the pain subsided for a short time.
Still going, many, many hours later, I was offered an injection in my back. You know how when the doctor gives you pills and potions and reading the little leaflet inside the box scares you into feeling almost better enough to not take the potion? Well I sort of heard the warnings but just signed the paperwork and took the jab anyway.
Finally, relief. Ok, so I wasn’t quite sure where my toes were and the lower half of my body could have got up and walked away without me noticing, but finally, with some relief from the pain I was able to relax slightly.
Hours and hours and hours had passed since the onset of what had turned out not to be bad indigestion and wind had woken me up in the wee hours of the morning before but I was finally able to catch a very much-needed forty winks.
I was woken from my snooze, not by another contraction, but by the hustle and bustle of the nurses. Apparently, due to “fetal distress” I was being prepped for cesarean, not mother distress mind you, “fetal distress”, after all I’d been through during the past thirty-six hours, Eldest Daughter was coming out through the trap door.
The last thing I remember is catching hold of one of the nurses arms and telling her, “you will make sure I’m asleep won’t you“.
You might well ask what the connection is between hitting the fridge with a hammer and the long drawn out labour which eventually produced a wonderful daughter. No, I didn’t hit my fingers, it wasn’t the pain, that made my mind lurch in that direction was the memory of the onset of labour for Middle Daughter …
As with the ice in the fridge, after moving gradually through my options to reach the end result on the first attempt, I had remembered enough to go straight to the final stage and used the hammer as my first attack, when I arrived in the labour room to prepare for the appearance of Middle Daughter and they offered me the pain relief at the bottom of the ladder I immediately asked for the epidural and slept for most of the ten hours labour until one large contraction near the end woke me. No trap door this time, Middle Daughter and I pushed and heaved together to bring about a second bundle of joy.
Of course, you probably all know I have three wonderful daughters but the arrival of Youngest Daughter is a completely different story, but I wasn’t there… “I missed it“. Mother Nature and Father Time have done their thing again. After the storm, when the sun comes out you completely forget how cold and wet you are when you see the rainbow.