As many of you know, I am currently at the very start of planning my wedding. I am completely overwhelmed, terrified, nauseated, and literally sleepless with all the options, costs and ways it could all go very very wrong. To make matters worse, while I am shortlisting venues and finalising budgets, I have had every bride there has even been tell me “Oh it’s all so fabulous! I wish I was planning my wedding day again! It’s the BEST!”
Which does nothing except make me feel like I am missing something. Didn’t anyone else feel the pain of wedding-planning-crazy-land?
Interestingly, as I grapple with the “is it all really worth it – why can’t I just elope” question, it seems one mother in the sorella-hood has also felt a similar confusion when it came to the experience of the birth of her first baby.
Does time heal old wounds? Here’s her story….
I can recall the painful day after the birth of my daughter… As a result, I was determined she was to be an only child – I had done childbirth, there and then. Finished. Complete!
I few days passed, and I was able to venture from my hospital room to bath my baby and I thought:
‘Yes, I think I will get through this experience.’
I wasn’t quite at the, ‘If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger’ stage, but I got out of bed and I saw that as a major achievement.
On day 4 the walk to the car was the longest I had ventured since I sent my best-friend the text ‘There’s movement at the station’ when I was going into labour. Whatever possessed me to quote Banjo Paterson at that time is beyond me – similar to the post birth text that I sent to my entire address book, which included the words:
‘I have a sore fanny.’
Both my mother and mother-in-law had 4 children each. Prior to giving birth, I saw them as great, strong women. Post birth I was confused. Why could they be so stupid to go back for more? In that first week out of hospital, when visited by mothers young and old, I also found myself reflecting on their sanity… I looked on in disbelief as they held my newborn, expecting to see the pangs of pain as they remembered their long labour, their first pee or the exploding pain in their boobs when your milk comes in… Nothing.
Clearly, I found labour distressing. For 3 weeks I almost blurted out information about the state of my sore fanny to strangers.
When I was twelve, my mother told me I had broad ‘child-bearing hips’. Until recently I believed everything she said. To add to my false sense of ease, my obstetrician thought little B was a smallish 7 pounder. So, I believed with my broad, child bearing hips and my sporty background I was sure to pop this kid out in no time. Sixteen hours into the longest day of my life, my obstetrician said to my midwife:
‘That baby’s not coming out of there.’
And that’s when I knew… we have a problem. Subsequently, bar a caesarean, I have experienced every intervention in the book.
But, you wouldn’t believe it. As my daughter is approaching her first birthday, I have that creeping feeling in my loins. Not the ‘movement at the station’ kind, but the feeling that I would love my gorgeous daughter to have a sibling.
It’s seems time does heal wounds. And all those mothers who have been there and done that, and then headed back for more – they’re right and their sanity is again unquestionable.
You do forget the pain of birth – it’s only one day (or part there of) and before I know it I hope to be back in the throes of it, doing what comes (almost) naturally!
And anyway, I’m now far more stretched in that region, so what a waste if I don’t have just one more try?! (Note to self – no text messages regarding fanny soreness this time!)
We thank Ms M for sharing her (very funny) story and wish her the best for plans for no. 2! As for me, it’s on to colour schemes and dress designers with new-found hope that I, like those brave brides that have gone before me, will look back on this time as a wonderful moment in my life….(wish me luck!)