Astrid's birth - some thoughts
Aug. 12th, 2010 12:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ailbheQuickly, while Astrid is asleep and the other two are outside and I'm feeling sentimental -
Rob and I have done all this together. We have had some monstrously huge fights and massive misunderstandings and enormous horrible conflicts, but we've faced the big stuff together - getting married, which I couldn't have done had he not understood the huge objections I had to it and the legal and social reasons I agreed to a legal wedding; having the first baby, and dealing with the physical and emotional trauma that caused; having a second baby, which was a big deal from conception to delivery and the whole naming thing; having a third baby. In spite of being fairly far apart at times in between the huge issues, when it comes to the big important stuff we seem to come together, hold hands and tackle it all.
During my labour, I weighed more than Rob; he bore my weight. I'm pretty sure he actually lifted me, at times. When I thought it was serious I sent him to sleep, so that when it took off I could wake him; when he woke we calmly had tea and biscuits to give us some strength to deal with what was to come; throughout the intense part of the labour I had tea and honey and things, and he had nothing, he just knelt or sat or stood while I hung out of him, giving him my weight to bear so I could bear the baby, and then he handed me drinks.
At times he was so tired he fell asleep standing up. But he stayed with me. I couldn't sleep, of course; pethidine doesn't help me sleep in the slightest, and entonox and water certainly don't.
But he knew what was happening inside my head, close enough, as well as outside my body, and there aren't many people on the planet who could have known that.
In some ways, I did it all myself, with my body and my strength. And in others, we did it together. Both of us.
That song from Beaches is in my head now. I think I'd better stop before I get really maudlin.
Rob and I have done all this together. We have had some monstrously huge fights and massive misunderstandings and enormous horrible conflicts, but we've faced the big stuff together - getting married, which I couldn't have done had he not understood the huge objections I had to it and the legal and social reasons I agreed to a legal wedding; having the first baby, and dealing with the physical and emotional trauma that caused; having a second baby, which was a big deal from conception to delivery and the whole naming thing; having a third baby. In spite of being fairly far apart at times in between the huge issues, when it comes to the big important stuff we seem to come together, hold hands and tackle it all.
During my labour, I weighed more than Rob; he bore my weight. I'm pretty sure he actually lifted me, at times. When I thought it was serious I sent him to sleep, so that when it took off I could wake him; when he woke we calmly had tea and biscuits to give us some strength to deal with what was to come; throughout the intense part of the labour I had tea and honey and things, and he had nothing, he just knelt or sat or stood while I hung out of him, giving him my weight to bear so I could bear the baby, and then he handed me drinks.
At times he was so tired he fell asleep standing up. But he stayed with me. I couldn't sleep, of course; pethidine doesn't help me sleep in the slightest, and entonox and water certainly don't.
But he knew what was happening inside my head, close enough, as well as outside my body, and there aren't many people on the planet who could have known that.
In some ways, I did it all myself, with my body and my strength. And in others, we did it together. Both of us.
That song from Beaches is in my head now. I think I'd better stop before I get really maudlin.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-12 08:47 pm (UTC)Rachel