My 100th Blog Post.

This here, is my 100th blog post.

Don't expect too much. No blog party in sight. I wanted virtual chamagne and party poppers; instead I had to settle for a blast to the past. Enjoy.

In the early days, my blogging journey began as an outlay for my thoughts, worries and ideas during my pregnancy with F. I wanted somewhere to document my journey, a pregnancy diary, so to speak.

When it comes to mummy blogs, I have lots to be thankful for. Being one of lifes 'nosey parkers', I found that reading about women's personal experiences made me laugh, cry and sometimes wonder what the bloody hell I'd let myself in for! I had no idea what motherhood would mean except what was portrayed in a text book. Mummy blogs opened my eyes and prepared me for a whirlwind life of sh*tty nappies, night feeds and the wonders of projectile vomit! Thank you mummies!

In celebration of reaching the 100 mark, here is a re-cap of a few of my favourite posts so far.

By far one of my favourite posts was 'Where the Journey Began.' One of my first posts; short and concise, I talked about the moment I told Mr C I was pregnant. Shattering every illusion of any romantic ideal I ever hold, it turned out I told him in a pub car park. Not as I imagined but reading the post, it feels like yesterday and has made me emotional already. (That is without the virtual champagne!)

The next few posts followed in quick sucsession and were also pregnancy related with 'For the First Time' and '20 Week Scan... Half Way There!' . Initally, I felt that i'd not really found my blogging feet. I was stuck for ideas as to what to write about and lacked inspiration, worried that my writing was boring and that I didn't use 'big words.'

Soon after came an all time favourite of mine; 'How Important is Marriage?' in which I discussed my fears of being Miss B once Freddie came along. You'll be sad to know, I am still Miss B and he's still not put a ring on it, or even attempted. These days we are too busy to even contemplate planning (and funding) a wedding. Mr C has assured me that 2013 is the year of the diamond; I await with baited breath. This post also gained my first ever blog comment.

With my confidence growing and my first blog comment under my belt, I felt like i'd found my blogging feet and I was no longer sinking. At this point, I took the opportunity to introduce myself properly with the help of a blog challenge: '#1 Introduction & Recent Photo'. This post was shortly followed by more testing questions such as 'Should Men be present at the birth of their child? and 'Is it time to give us Women a break?'

I went on to blog about NHS Parentcraft Classes and my Baby Shower. During this time, I had taken reduced hours at work prior to my maternity leave starting so I felt that I had more time to immerse myself in the blogging community. I wrote weekly pregnancy updates that are lovely to read and reflect on. My only regret during this stage was not taking more pictures of my pregnant bump. I miss it greatly and have made a pact with myself that I will take weekly snaps during my next pregnancy.

The next few months, saw the arrival of F, juggling night feeds and nappies. There was no better way to celebrate than with a commemorative post; Welcome to the World!,
This was shortly followed by an occasion to divulage too much information about bowel habits, episiotomy and 'plugs' (and not the electrical sorts.) These posts were' My Labour Story Pt. 1, then followed by even more gorey details in 'Part 2'.

These were my all time favourite blog posts that I thoroughly enjoyed writing. Blogging allows you the opportunity to write about things you may not necesserily speak about in day to day life; afterall, my Grandad didn't want to know about my episiotomy but through 'A Whole 9 Months', I could document the whole occasion, even the grotesque.

More recently, my posts have revolved around Freddie. I have been writing monthly letters to him; usually written on a night fuelled by a glass of Rose, they are often emotional! I love the thought of having these to look back on and remember when he's a horrible smelly teenager who 'hates me!' Only a few days, I spoke about how I've become an emotional wreck since having F. I worried that it wasn't normal but since blogging about it, other mummies have been able to put my mind at rest and reassure me that, we're all softies!

I love the fact that I have somewhere in this huge world of cyber space to write about me and my F.

A place where I can reflect; somewhere I can be me, whatever mood I am in.

Sometimes I want to write a piece that is hilarious; sometimes I want to be emotional and I may write a raw post. Sometimes it may contain too much information, others it may be about the mundane occurances of day-to-day life. Whether I get a million readers or just those few that stumble here by pure coincidence, | am enjoying continuing to blog.

Here's to another 100 posts.

Thank You! x

My Labour Story (Part 2)

Once I'd moved across to the delivery room, it suddenly hit me that I was going to have a baby! Much to my dismay though, I still wasn't in that much pain and Mr C was incredibly calm and composed. My first mistake however was getting onto the bed; once there, I didn't move!

As many people had told me prior to labour; my birth plan went well and truely out of the window. The midwife didn't even look at it and it was the last thing on my mind! Originally, I wanted an active labour where I birthed on bean bags on the floor and used a birthing ball to encourage baby to move down. At one point, I laughed at the sheer rediculous-ness of that & told the midwife that there was no way on God's Earth I was leaving the comfort of that bed!

I changed into my 'birthing outfit'; a beach dress from Primark, and the midwife asked me what I wanted in terms of pain relief. I opted for gas & air however, to be honest, I don't think it worked! I didn't really feel any different but the action of using and holding it in my hands during a contraction was a real comfort. Mr C even had a sneaky go but said that he felt no different! Further on into my labour when the midwife suggested giving the gas & air up, I laughed in her face and refused to let go! I was saying 'someone's turned my gas off!' and 'tell the woman in the room next door to stop using my gas & air because I can't taste it!'. Madness!

At 11pm, as well as gas & air, the midwife gave me an injection of diamorphine. Originally, I felt reserved towards using this as it can pass through to baby and make them drowsy once born however the midwife assured me that I had time to let the diamorphine pass before baby was going to be delivered therefore it would be out of my system by then. I started to have all of my pain in my back (exactly the same as my mum's labour with me!) and it felt like someone was twisting a knife in it, causing me to writhe around the bed in pain so the diamorphine was a welcome relief from the pain! It was still there but somehow, I didn't really care that much about it and at points, I even fell asleep during contractions which meant I could re-fuel my energy before pushing. On occasions, I was that relaxed that I thought we were on holiday! Apparantly I asked Mr C if we were going to the water park and whether he was enjoying his holiday in the sun!

During the night, I dozed and chatted with Mr C whilst he ate Greggs pasties all chilled! I vividly recall looking over at him and he'd reclined his seat back and was fast asleep like he was at home!

I kept focussing on the fact that I could have another shot of diamorphine at 3am so watched the clock on count down mode. The midwife had turned the lights down and the whole atmosphere was strangely serene and peaceful. I remember thinking 'this isn't so bad afterall' whilst in a lovely diamorphine fuelled haze! As it wore off, I was asking for more so at 3am, the midwife performed another examination before she was to give me another injection. She asked us how far dilated we thought I was and myself and Mr C agreed on 7cm. We were overjoyed when she told us I was 10cm dilated! She informed us that baby C wasn't quite in optimum position yet but to get myself ready because it wouldn't be long before I was to push!

At that point, I proceeded to absolutely shit myself (not literally!) and begged her for an epidural even though I wasn't in that much pain! The midwife simply laughed and said I'd coped with the pain amazingly and there was no way I needed an epidural and besides, it was way too late! I'd convinced myself that I was going to have a shoulder distocia because of his predicted size and I was resigned to the fact that he was going to get stuck. Mr C was an absolute star at this point and calmed me right down whilst massaging my feet and spraying my face with a cooling water spray.

At around 3.45am, our lovely midwife came in accompanied by another midwife and told me that my baby was going to be born! I started to push at around 4am although I never actaully got that urge. I'd been told prior to labour that i'd feel an overwhelming urge to push but that never came. Pushing was hard, hard, hard work! At times I felt like it was never going to end and giving up was the only option. It seemed like he didn't want to arrive and even though his head kepy peeking out, he'd quickly retreat back inside, much to my frustration.

Mr C was such an encouragement and when I felt like I could do no more, seeing the excitement on his face made me summon up strength from somewhere I never knew existed. He kept telling me that we were going to meet our baby soon and our family would be complete which somehow made things easier. With a little help from an episiotomy (ouch!), I managed to give birth to my (not so little) 10lbs 1/2 ozbundle of joy at 4.55am on 2.9.12.

The midwife passed him straight up onto my chest and I remember saying 'hello Freddie, you're so beautiful Freddie!' The midwife said "don't you want to double check he's a boy first?" jokingly however I panicked and said to Mr C "I don't want a girl, I want my Freddie!"

I was elated to find that I did indeed have my Freddie and what I joy he is!