10 Days with a Newborn - Day 2 - Home Again
Warning: This content includes references to miscarriage and baby loss. I am in no way a medical professional or a mothering guru. Everything I write is in relation to my journey as a mother experiencing mother-like things. If you need any kind of help/guidance, please seek the assistance of a professional.
Day 2 – Home Again
The night blended into morning and every now and then I would check the transparent cot next to me. Yep, there was a baby in there. My baby. My baby slept next to me. How weird.
Chris hadn’t really got much more sleep than I had, as he lay out on the uncomfortably narrow bench seat with those holey, cotton blankets hospitals have that offer absolutely no warmth at all. He looked rough and eager to get the hell out of there and go pick up Evie from my brother’s house. We were both excited for her to meet her little sister. The plan was Chris would get Evie, and my brother and his family would follow 30 minutes later so we could have our intimate family moment before the visitors rolled in, but just after Chris left the midwife told me we would be discharged in an hour. What? It was 8am. I had just had a baby the night before and they were already kicking us out? I guess this is what happens the second time around. But I had people coming. Text messages were flying at me from all sides of the city, wanting to know when they could come and visit.
I asked the midwife if we could delay us leaving a bit. She didn’t look thrilled by the idea but caved, granting me an extra hour in a public hospital bed. I called Chris. “Tell my brother to come to our place instead, they want us out of here already. Just grab Evie and come straight back”. I sent messages to everyone telling them not to come to the hospital, then waddled to the bathroom to try and squeeze in a shower, being extra careful down below, changing my blood-soaked pad and treating myself to a new ice-pack for my nethers.
When Chris came with Evie, it was the best ever. Evie walked into the room shyly with the ‘big sister’ t-shirt we gave her when we told her I was pregnant. She has such a sweet, caring and even maternal nature, that I never had to worry too much about jealousy, she was just so happy to have a baby in her arms and commenting on how tiny her hands were. One of the midwives sweetly took lots of photos for us, but all while she packed up our documentation and showed us the door. We were gone by 10:30. I hadn’t even been in that room 12 hours. We left tired but happy, my privates swollen, my bulging tummy wobbling, my heart full, my eyes gritty, my two girls by my side. We clicked Sammy’s capsule into the car and headed home.
It was on the drive back that I realised my husband had been such a space cadet when he got Evie, and likely offended my brother’s family, simply telling them not to come to the hospital and not explaining why. I called to do damage control and organised another time for them to meet little Samantha. That’s something you don’t realise you’ll have to deal with when you’re pregnant; mobile phones means everyone expects instant knowledge of what is going on. From the moment that baby pops out, you’re sending out messages telling people everything went ok, they all respond, so then you need to reply. All you want to do is rest, but everyone wants to know the name, ask if I’m doing ok, when can they visit. Within moments you take on the role of new mum, you also become press secretary and event planner, all while on no sleep and breastfeeding every 2 hours.
As dizzying as it was to get shoved out the door by the hospital, it was nice being home. We settled on the couch and cuddled Sammy non-stop. Best thing about that super early newborn stage is that getting the baby to sleep is not an issue. She’d feed, open her eyes for a minute, then fall back asleep. Too easy, I got this parenting thing. Oh wait, what’s a tog again? What will she sleep in tonight? Where’s that old breast pump? And should I have charged the new cordless ones I got. We had a bottle steriliser, didn’t we? Should I get that out in case we need bottles? Hmm, how long can you keep bottle teats for before you should buy new ones? Six years is probably too long, right?
My parents came over; my mum absolutely thrilled for me as she knew of the long struggles we’d had to get this baby. My dad doesn’t know what to do with babies but was forced to at least hold her until we could get the obligatory photograph before he promptly gave her back.
Evie was helpful and sweet, offering to get up and do whatever I needed. Love billowed from me, but so did fear. There had been too many losses in between my first-born and my second. I would look at Sammy and think, ‘what if I lose you too’. Like that was how it was for me since Evie, I start to have babies and then they don’t survive. Sammy just made it further than the others, she just got lucky. My heart kept trying to protect itself and wouldn’t let me 100% rest in ease. I found myself googling SIDS. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I wanted to prepare myself for losing Sammy too. I was uneasy for my entire pregnancy, waiting for things to fall apart. Then the labour came, and I waited for it to go horribly wrong. Now I had my baby in my arms, and I still waited for the worst. I never shared my fears.
Sammy slept pretty great that night. I woke up more than she did—checking to make sure she was still breathing.
Read Day 1 - The Hospital