Typing today by myself

Yesterday I dictated my first blog to my husband to type. Today I am writing this myself. My "Type A" personality and former work as a journalist made me want to go in and edit the typos of yesterday's efforts - however I am leaving it because one of the biggest battles I have fought is my perfectionist tendencies and this incredible journey has taught me that there is no such thing as perfection and trying to be a people-pleaser instead of a God-pleaser can lead to real trouble.

Where to start? It would take a book as long as the Bible to document everything that has happened to me but I will try to give a slightly briefer overview!

Firstly, the fact that I am typing this today is a miracle itself as after all I have been through I am astounded I still have enough brain cells to construct sentences.

2007-2008 were momentous years ... my dear cousin - a gifted architect, died in China. This left me devastated and with a feeling of disbelief that he was gone at the tender age of 35. Just before leaving for his funeral we were aware my Dad had some severe symptoms. On my return from the funeral held in Australia I learned that Dad had liver cancer. The recession was on and our 7-year-old business was also hitting the skids. I was also pregnant with our first child and suffering from intense "morning" (lasted all day) sickness which didn't leave until about 7 months into the pregnancy. Treatment by an acupuncturist for the sickness - which led to a near miscarriage - coupled with a negligent midwife only added further stress.

It was expected that Dad would survive long enough to meet our child but things changed dramatically and I decided to move into my parents' home to help care for Dad during his final days as he did not want to be in a hospice. This is something I deeply regret as although I loved him dearly, in retrospect I was already burnt out and should have been caring more for myself and the baby who would kick hard when I was bawling my eyes out while watching Dad's suffering. He refused any pain relief until the last day - and this was hard to come by as we could not locate Dad's doctor and paramedics were not authorised to administer morphine so Dad was in tremendous pain on his last day. Although I knew he was dying, I still held on to the hope of a miracle and would sit by the end of his bed praying through the nights while he was suffering. When he finally died I went into tremendous shock and let out a surreal noise - the family were concerned and had a doctor check me over - my husband comforted me and we managed some sleep that night.

I went into over-drive with the funeral preparations ... writing a poem for Dad, a eulogy, organising all the readers, music, editing the order of service, creating a slideshow of photos etc etc - looking back it was my way of coping with the anxiety and shock of it all. I wish I'd had counselling then and directly after instead of being in my overactive mode to cope.

It was certainly not an ideal pregnancy ... sick, two people dying and a business collapsing. With all that to contend with, we skipped most of the antenatal classes - although I did a separate breastfeeding course. I hadn't spent much time preparing a post-birth plan. I was reading books on grieving at the same time as pregancy books ... desperately trying to get my grieving under control in order to prepare for the baby's arrival.  I worked up until about 2 weeks before the birth ... then spent time furiously washing all the baby clothes and preparing the room and baby items.

I was very careful about what I ate during the pregnancy - avoiding caffeine, chocolate etc - all my products were organic and I even had an alcohol-free mouthwash. I walked regularly and managed some yoga classes and did everything humanly possible to assure the optimum health of the baby.

I was very adamant that I wanted a natural birth and did some hypnobirthing training whereby you are able to breathe the baby down the canal and control the pain using several mind and visual techniques.  By the time I arrived at the hospital I was very dilated and in a lot of pain but in my usual "downplay the pain" fashion (which I will elaborate on later) I bravely walked up to the birthing room with a smile on my face.

Needless to say, it was a hideously painful experience and I should have been flexible enough to see if I could have had an epidural - who knows I may have been too dilated in any case. Our son's chin was stuck in an unusual fashion which was prolonging his arrival and making me weaker and weaker. My husband was an absolute hero massaging and coaching me through the experience. He was essentially the one that birthed that baby - the midwife was virtually just an observer offering very little advice or assistance - just the start of many negligent practioners. When I look back now she never kept to the book of items to discuss at each meeting, she never weighed me, she downplayed a call I made when the baby hadn't moved for some time, she always talked about how tired she was renovating her kitchen and delivering other babies etc. In fact when I rang to say it was time to leave to meet me at the hospital she said just to wait at home for longer and things would be fine but I instinctively knew it really was time to go ... I am lucky I didn't deliver our son in the car as I was nearly 9 cm dilated by the time I reached the hospital steps.

Noah arrived with eyes wide open - and already giving a hint of his amazing interest in the world and what has come to be an astounding intelligence. I had been up the whole previous night in labour (my faithful dog Checkers stayed by my side comforting me) and finally crashed that delivery night around 2am - full of stitches and exhausted. Husbands were not able to stay the night so Aaron left.

I was sharing a room with another woman and the staff were far from attentive - even questioning why I needed assistance putting the baby into the incubator when I felt weak. Suffice to say I figured I would be more comfortable at home and have access to more palatable food! So after two nights I left with our precious son and a very naive sense of what is required to care for a newborn and how exhausting it is when you have lumpy breasts, itchy stitches and are grieving.

After a nervous drive home we arrived with our wee man who looked a bit jaundiced so we placed him near some soft sunlight coming through the lounge window. He went into his new room and slept and before long my niece and mother arrived for a visit. It was during this time that Noah experienced an episode of apnoeia and we frantically passed him back and forth - his litttle face was looking purple and we were gently shaking him trying to see if he was breathing. We were in shock - all that care of a child leading up to the birth - and he might die on the first day home! We ran to our neighbour next door who was a Plunket nurse ... she wasn't too sure what to do so we didn't hesitate and I carried Noah into the car as we sped to the nearest A&E. His oxygen was low and they got some colostrum from me to try to get his blood sure levels up - needless to say I was hysterical. I had just lost my Dad and was starting to think I'd lose my much-loved child! They sped us to hospital by ambulance - I clutched Noah holding oxygen under his nose. They kept monitoring him through the night but he was crying heaps and I was naturally distressed ... my husband again wasn't allowed to stay as they have a no-males allowed policy - ridiculous! Thankfully Noah was given the all-clear and we left the next day - I had been up all night trying to comfort him with very little assistance from the nursing staff.
As the first few days settled in I approached motherhood like an executive ... I had been given a plethora of info - booklets and such and spread it out on the dining table - suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

More tomorrow into my descent into a prescription drug nightmare that even Peter Jackson would struggle to capture in a film. In the meantime, please pray for a miracle for me so I can return to full health of body, mind and spirit - finally able to use the gifts God has given me for His glory and. In particular I ask for help with sleep and a lessening of intense and vivid dreams caused by drugs.