Looking back over a few years of Reluctant Mom ….. a quick stroll, not a delayed walk

I have been blogging under the name Reluctant Mom since AUGUST 21, 2009.  It’s been a while, I thought I would reflect on a few things.  I know that there are many readers who have known me for all the years, whilst there are new blog followers who have recently joined.

So allow me a few posts to look back over the years and the journey that brought me here.  I will not delay you too long.

I had my third child in June 2009.

It was a planned pregnancy.

I was prepared – I had two children already.  I wanted this baby to be the one where I got it all right.

Baby one and two, I put down to learning exercises.

But Baby Three was going to be the one where I got it all right.  All of the stuff I got so wrong before, I was going to have sorted

I was hardly surprised at how this worked.  I knew all about post natal depression, cracked and bleeding nipples.

I knew what being tired really meant.

I read it all, I knew it all.  {thumbs nose at the What to Expect books, because I have this taped ….. ha ha ha ….}

I went in to this with a bit of a swagger in my step, and a glint in my eye.  Because I was so damn sure of myself.

My third child was the gorgeous blue eyed, blonde haired girl that I had dreamt about.

Planned c-section, everything went as one would expect.  Nothing bad.

Other than the usual being cut up on the operating table, with someone up to their elbows in your abdomen.  But other than that, sort of a normal day out in the delivery ward at Medi Clinic.

In my dreams my daughter Isabelle slept with that serene expression on her face as only a newborn baby can.  And that little bit of milk caught on her rosebud lips, to convey the sense that she was well fed and content.

That is how I pictured it in my dreams.  No doubt fuelled by every image I had ever seen in Living and Loving.

Reality I am afraid was very different.

This was my third c-section, and it appeared to get more painful with each one.

No doubt due to the fact that I was older, fatter and they had to cut out huge hunks of scar tissue from the earlier c-sections.

I had my daughter on the Wednesday. Kennith collected me from the Panorama Medi-Clinic on Saturday morning at 10h00.

Then he told me at about 15h00 just as I was suckling my three day old child, that we were expected at dinner that evening and I should get myself ready.

After checking that he was not trying to play a practical joke on me/really fucking serious – I realised that he was being quite serious.

I tried to indicate with the huge cut in my uterus and my blood soaked sanitary pads that I was in no state to sit around a dinner table with 5 other couples.

His rationale was that I had done this twice before, and really what was the big deal.

And so the rapid drop into madness began.

To be continued ……

CN-87

 

CN-95

 

CN-121

 

CN-132

Advertisements