You didn't tell me it was going to be hard.
No one did.
My mother said it would be easy - 'Ishy I had three drug free births, hell with my first all I remember was three short sharp pains, one push, and BAM baby out'.
All the doctors and midwives - 'You have youth, health, and physical strength on your side. Big fit girl with big hips - birth will be a breeze'.
My boss at work - ' I had my first baby when I was 36. You are 22, it will be sooo easy. Women are meant to have babies young, its science. You have SCIENCE on your side'.
Me - 'Okay Aisha you can do this. You have genetics, youth, health, science and the medical opinions of many on your side. Birth will be a walk in the park'.
Well, my birth was not a walk in the park. In fact it was far from it. It was a slow aching crawl across the biggest, widest, deepest park you could find.
In order to tell my birth story I have to wind back to pregnancy. Pregnancy for me was easy. Really easy. I had no morning sickness. Thank god. The only symptoms I had was the intense pain you feel in the early stages as your uterus is stretching. Pain which by the way, no one, and I mean no one, tells you about. That shit hurt almost as bad as my early contractions.
I also had, in my third trimester, pretty bad swelling in my ankles and legs, and although that was uncomfortable and required mum to massage my feet every night, it was manageable.
I had huge cravings for cereal. In particular museli with yoghurt and blueberries. I would have this almost every meal time. Oddly, now I can't go near the stuff without cringing.
I had pregnancy acne, but it was only noticeable to me, I would get comments everywhere I went about how I radiated the 'pregnancy glow' (thankfully, I mean whats the point of being pregnant if you ain't glowing, right?).
The hardest part of my pregnancy would have to have been my fatigue. Boy oh boy was I tired. Like allll the time. I would nap for 3 hours every day. Although looking back I think that my fatigue was more of a depressive slump. I had been put through an incredibly rough time with my daughter's father and his family and I think this attributed to my need to sleep often, more so than the general fatigue that comes with growing a human in your belly. I also studied at university full time and worked. So I did have a lot going on that would have made any non pregnant person tired. But still for me I have always been active and alert. So sleeping this often was not a normality for me.
The weeks flew. For me it seemed to go by a lot quicker because I didn't really start to show until the 30 week mark. People who would see me everyday, eg the local baker, mailman, neighbours even, were shocked when all of a sudden I was walking around with this big round pregnant belly. It was like I became pregnant overnight. I always thought I didn't show until late because I was tall. But now I see tall women who show really early, so I guess it really just depends on the person doesn't it?
I loved my belly. When I finally popped I wore my belly proudly wherever I went. Those first kicks. The first ultrasound where you see your baby moving about. The emotions, the feelings - the best word to describe it all is surreal. Absolutely amazingly surreal.
I would talk to my belly everyday.
I would dance with my belly.
Cry to my belly.
Study with my belly.
Dream with my belly.
My belly had a name by the time I was 24 weeks - Zaria. I did want to name her Aria but decided that such a name was more suited to a quiet, white girl with blonde curly locks and a sweet placid nature. I knew that my baby was not an Aria. No child of mine would ever be an Aria. It's not in my blood. So whack a Z in front of that and there you have a fierce name with a beautiful meaning - blossoming flower (in Arabic).
My belly ended up being a 58cm, 9 pound 10 oz bundle of pure light born at 5.02am on Friday 13th November 2015.
A day that I will never forget.
A day that I grew as a person.
A day my heart felt so much overwhelming love I felt like I could have exploded there and then.
And a day that brought immediate fear. Fear that I would not be good enough, strong enough, smart enough, hard working enough, to be the mother that this little girl, MY little girl deserved.
But motherhood is a funny thing. All these emotions, all these hormones, are racing through your body right from conception to birth. And even though these emotions can be so powerful that sometimes you feel like you could drown in them, they are instantly alleviated when your baby looks up at you for the very first time.
Zaria's eyes trusted me. She looked at me with soul wrenching love and adoration when she was just seconds old. And it was in that moment that my fear was replaced with courage. My body which felt on the brink of collapsing, opened up and absorbed the love and healing that Zaria emanated from her tiny (albeit slimy) body. The burning between my legs had disappeared. The past 5 days of labour felt like a distant memory. And just as I was ready to latch her onto my breast and share those magical first moments of true bonding, my midwife looks up from between my legs and yells 'Doctor, we need to get this patient to the theatre urgently'. The look of fear in her eyes suddenly brought back the memories of the last 5 days, the unbearable burning between my legs, the worry I felt, the doubts I had on my body to do the very thing it was born to do. Zaria was whisked off my chest and my bed started rolling away. Fluroesent hospital lights flashed, blinding me. Doctors and nurses surrounding my bed, yelling at patrons to clear the hallway as I was wheeled off at a fast pace towards the theatre room.
Where is my baby? Where is my baby? I remember trying to speak but nothing would come out. I felt like I was in a nightmare where I could't talk. I couldn't control where I was going, what I was doing. Everything was happening so fast. And in that moment I thought that perhaps death was not 70 years down the track, but it fact moments away. Death couldn't take me yet, I thought. Please God no. My Zaria, I need to be here for my Zaria. And then, everything went black.
To be continued...
A
xx
