It's about time I introduced the newest member of Team Sainsbury... Emilia Lilly.
Isn't she lovely?
Of course I think that, I'm her Mother; therefore I am biased. But she is. Anyway.
Emilia was born on the 18th of July. 9 days overdue. Exactly a year after my Grandad passed away (Grandad I know that you had it planned all along, such a meddler). I had gotten pretty fed up of being so humongous and if I'm completely honest, if it was up to me I would have locked myself in the house and not seen anyone until it was time for her to come out. But not a chance of that happening as I had the pre-school run to do for William, and, you know, it's quite unsociable to lock yourself away.
We were in the middle of a heatwave over here in the UK, so I made the most of William's paddling pool and the in-laws swimming pool. I was only allowed to dip my feet in at Kev & Sue's as Kev was worried that my waters might break in his pool. I'll let your imaginations create that picture for you. Yum. Look at that cute boyo though...
So, the morning of the 18th of July arrived. The one day I really didn't want to give birth on, and I was awoken by the dreaded c word. Contractions. It was around 05:15, and I thought I'd wait a bit and see if they progressed or not. Boy did they.
Tony woke up, and when I told him what was happening his response was - can I just pop to work to sort something out quick? You can imagine my response, especially those of you who know Tony's 'sort something out' and 'quick' *cough*Tony Time*cough*. I'm very lucky that my Mum lives a ten minute drive away, as she was in charge of looking after the boyo, and the contractions were definitely coming on a lot quicker than they did when I had Will. They don't kid around when they say that the second baby comes along a lot quicker.
The second time I called the hospital they agreed that I was allowed to make my way in. I didn't give them a choice the second time. I think my words were something along the lines of 'I may not sound like I am in labour, but I am a very quiet labourer and you WILL let me come in now!!'. Sorry to whichever midwife answered that call. It all happened pretty quick from there. I'll save the gorey details but it basically went: assessment, being told I was high risk (news to me as I had been told that I was low risk the WHOLE way through my pregnancy), this meant I was unable to give birth in the birthing centre and had to go to the labour ward (yay), waters GUSHING not breaking, me realising that baby was distressed as she had done a poop, definitely going to labour ward once they realised that she had done a poo inside, gas and air being handed to me (wahey), being carted downstairs to labour ward, lots of pain, meeting lots of midwives and doctors and anaesthetists, lots more pain, demanding pain relief, not being allowed to eat or drink (fabulous), more pain, being told that there wasn't time for any more pain relief apart from the gas and air, even more pain, legs in stirrups, what felt like twenty people in the room (slight exaggeration), a hell of a lot more pain, pushing, pain, pushing, burning, BABY GIRL.
It makes my tummy feel funny and cross my legs just typing that. Never again, thank you very much.
Tony was the one to tell me that we had a baby girl. A baby girl! I didn't believe him after months and months of being utterly convinced that I was cooking another boy. So I asked the midwife to confirm. Sorry for not believing you Antwa.
There I am with my baby girl minutes after she was born. No glamorous shot, just pure love and some shock mixed in there too!
I just realised I haven't given you the all important stats - she was born at 10:49 weighing 8 lbs 12.5 oz's. Little chunker.
So there we have it, the newest member of the Team. Welcome girly, you have made our Team complete.
xxx
