You were due Christmas Day, although we had a few separate due dates from the obstetrician, the midwives, the scans, it was all very confusing, no one could pin you down.
It was a beautiful easy pregnancy. I would talk to you lots, ask you to come out easily, tell you I couldn’t wait to meet you. You heard us reading stories to matilda every night, heard some of her tantrums, heard all the noises of our home. The last weeks with you inside me, I felt heavy, sprained my hip and it was so hard to walk up and down the big hills in balman. Matilda has turned 3 a couple of months ago and wanted lots of love and attention. She knew things were changing. We tried to do lots of fun stuff together but I was weak and heavy and sore.
In the last few weekends Matilda and Jason and I would do fun things, Jason carrying Matilda, me hobbling besides them. I finished work the week before you arrived,
We were preparing for Christmas, picking out a turnkey and brandy butter, preparing for Santa, wrapping presents. On 23rdDecember we all went to bed. We had lots of plans for Christmas eve – the petting zoo, the Children’s mass at St Augustine’s.
I woke up Christmas Eve morning about 12.30pm. At 1am I felt something funny and thought my waters broke. I went downstairs to wrap some more presents – it was Christmas Eve! Santa and the reindeers would be coming soon.
I called the birth centre to have a chat. They said ‘call us again later’.
At 2am I was having contractions and they felt magical and colourful. I was so happy. Were you coming tonight? In the morning?? Jason woke up at 230 and saw me kneeling beside the bed.
What’s happening?
I’m in labour.
He sat upright, jumped out of bed and started putting together his things.
We’re going to the hospital
I don’t think we need to. I called them, they said to wait.
Are you sure?
No. I’ll call again.
The birth centre told me they were full, but they could put me in the Delivery Ward and to come in if I wanted.
We called and Uber and hopped n at 2.45, off to RPA, holding the hands, Jason carrying the hospital bag.
When we got there they midwife put us in a room, gave me a mat and a ball and said she would be back.
You’re 3cm. Usually at 3cm we might tell you to go home for a while, but you can stay.
We hung out in there together, with more contractions happening. At 315 I popped out to reception.
I thought the rooms had showers and baths? There’s no shower in our room.
Oh. We forgot about you! Sorry! Someone will be there to check you in soon.
The put us in a more serious room. The junior midwife took your heartbeat a couple of times, did some paperwork. Soon she couldn’t find the heartbeat. The contractions were becoming full body vibrations. I wanted to have a bath or shower. She tried to strap a heartbeat monitor on and there was no heartbeat.
That’s not good.
The contractions were crazier. Still no heartbeat.
Jason, can you press that red button over there and get some help?
The senior midwife came in.
What happens if you can’t find a heartbeat??
Well, then you have an emergency C section.
If you have to cut it out please do it now! DO IT NOW!!!
One more contraction howled through my body and suddenly I knew you were ready.
I looked here and here but can’t pick up the beat. What do I do?
Caitlin, stay still, we need to find the heartbeat. After the next contraction I need you to stay still.
I can’t! It’s coming!!!
It can’t be. She was only 3cm 45 minutes ago
ITS COMING!!
A mother knows. On the bed. Put your leg up. There. Hold it like that. Yes! Now breathe! I need you to breathe this baby out.
I breathed quickly and hard like she said, in a trance, the flicker of moonlight streaming through the window. Breathe breathe breathje breathe breath peace peace peace calm Breath breath breath. Calm calm calm.
Here’s the baby. More breaths now please. Breathe your baby out.
Breathe breath breath. Calm calm calm peace still. Breeeeeeeeaaath breaaaath.
Jason and the midwives erupted into audible smiles, and they plonked you warm and slimy on my chest, wrapped a warm blanket around you.
Hallo!
You were so small. So very tiny, like a nude little baby rabbit. Your head was little and your eyes were opening and closing. Your mouth was little a tiny strawberry. You looked around with big open blue peepers and found my face.
There you are. It me, mummy!
It was 4.01am We held you like that for half n hour while the midwives tagged you and filled in their paper work. You fed a little and nuzzled into me and took in the scene with your calm eyes. Jason held you.
It was Patricia Dooley’s last ever night as a midwife and the retirement party for her was raging on next door. She was old school, a white witch, had seen good births and bad births over 40 years of practice. As she returned to her party the baby midwife said What a great birth to go out on! You’ve made her night.
She caught her with one hand said Jason.
I had a shower and they wrapped you up in blankets like a little gumnut I wandered down the hall, made a tea and a coffee, listening to the howling of other women birthing in surrounding rooms. They brought some breakfast. You were weighted and tested. Finally, we were sent up to our room, the same one I stayed in with Matilda 3 years ago.
and I slept and fed and lay there together. I had some more terrible hospital tea. Jason left around 8 and came back later in the day with Matilda. She brought you a little bunny.
It was Christmas Eve and not much was happening in the hospital, no breastfeeding classes or anything. The private health insurance lady came to visit me with some forms to sign, as did the psychiatrist. The midwives were wonderful.
I didn’t want to miss Christmas lunch after all the preparations and II hadn’t had Christmas with my mum in years.
We checked out on Christmas day. Jason and Matilda came to bring us home. We got the bus through the city and saw the Tree in Martin Place, all the lights and decorations of the CBD.
You were my little Christmas blessing and you have stayed that way. Chilled out, warm, kind, sweet and gentle. We called you Parker Phoenix because you are the new birth of me, and my rebirth as a mum and a sober person and a partner and daughter. I wanted to call you rainbow also, because I saw a rainbow at the end of a hail storm just before you came, bright and radiant and peaceful at the same time.
