It was the early morning of Tuesday, December 16. I had gone over my due date for the (home) birth of our first child for 8 days now. He was supposed to be here on the 8th, according to calculations. But I guess he figured he’d stay a bit longer. I didn’t mind. I had been feeling pretty well in the 2nd part of my pregnancy and the day before I had even embarked on a long walk, on the crisp sunny Dutch winter day it had been.
So early morning, about 4 a.m., I woke up feeling a bit weird and having stomach cramps… and even though it was my first time… I knew instantly: Today was going to be the day!
I woke up the Dad-To-Be, and told him that as far as I was concerned this was IT, and he better not be going anywhere that day. We slowly went through our day from that moment on. Contractions were getting more and more frequent, midwife came to check sometime during the morning and then went on to another one of her clients who was just a bit further along than I was. I huffed and puffed, fell asleep in between for a few minutes here and there, huffed and puffed some more… and in between I wondered what it would be like to be holding my baby, for the first time, within a matter of hours.
From the start of the pregnancy I had been looking forward to holding my son. Because I just knew that was what it was going to be: A Boy! I would’ve liked to have the sex of the baby revealed during the pregnancy, but as Dad-To-Be didn’t want to know, I decided to keep myself in the dark as well, as I was sure I was not going to be able to shut up about it. And besides: I didn’t really need confirmation, as I already knew, it was going to be a boy, right? Whenever I had envisioned myself being a Mum, it was always to a boy. There was no doubt about it: I am a boy-Mom and that was what I was going to have. The Dad-To-Be had a fairly different expectation though. He was convinced we were going to have a girl… Ha! Sod… *rolls eyes*. I just had 2 words for him: Female Intuition!
At the beginning of the afternoon I called my Mom and my sister, to tell them things were moving along and that it was for sure going to happen today. That today they would become a grandma and aunt for the first time. Outside the wind started picking up and a storm was about to move into Dutchyland. Typical… my child would be born on a stormy night, gah!
Beginning of the evening, the midwife had arrived and, after checking me over, was taking a much needed nap on our couch, when things reaaaallly started moving along. It’s a good thing it was a stormy night, because I remember letting out a fair amount of loud primal “sounds” and cursing the whole effing world, when my 54 cm (1’7”) / 4720 grams (10.4 lbs) boy … well… when he came out (to say he “popped” out would be a lie… OMG!). And then, on Tuesday December 16 at 8.15 p.m., he was there, while the wind was howling around the apartment building, on my chest, all mucky and bloody, but he was there: my firstborn child!
After minutes and minutes of gushing over our newborn child, the midwife hovered over us and asked: “Ummm… so… do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”. I muttered: “Umm… Yeah, I guess, pfff”. She looked at us and said: “It’s a boy” and smiled at me.
I will never forget the look on his Dad’s face, while he let out a heartfelt “What!? A boy!?!”. I just looked at him with my best “Told You So” smirk and that was that… We were parents to a boy. A boy who incidentally is turning 14 in a few months (Eeek!)
Jess, I hope the birth of your 2nd child will go well and we can welcome a beautiful new healthy baby into the world!
DutchBitch – mother of a teen – signing off!