Half a year has passed...

Zander is nearly 7 months old!!! Where did more then half a year disappear to!? He's getting so big - just got this photo from his mum and dad.

If that happy little face doesn't make the surrogacy process worth it, I don't know what does!!

Lets talk about Surrogacy

In the last week or so the topic of surrogacy has exploded in the media here in Australia due to a horrifying story from Thailand. When the story broke last week it was claimed that an Australian couple had employed the services of a Thai surrogate to carry their twins, but that when one twin was born with Downs Syndrome, he was left behind while the healthy twin sister was taken home to Australia.

At the core - this very scenario invokes intense emotional reactions in pretty much everyone who hears about it. I think everyone with a reasonably developed sense of 'right and wrong' can see that there is something horribly wrong with what has happened. Then, as tends to happen with these stories, each day more and more details have emerged. It is claimed that the surrogate is only 21, and went into the surrogacy completely unaware of what was involved (she had no idea about IVF and embyro creating, and probably had no idea what an embryo transfer was going to be like). She has apparently stated that she agreed to be a surrogate so that she and her husband could pay off some debts. She is now caring for the baby boy as her own son, again stating that he is hers because he was in her tummy.

To me, as a fellow surrogate, these don't sound like the words of someone who had a full grasp of what she was getting into. I don't know her, and can only base my opinions on what I've seen her say herself (on heavily edited TV), and the limited knowledge I have of the commercial surrogacy process in Thailand... but my heart goes out to her. This is the crux of the anti-surrogacy arguement: weathly western couples taking advantage of under educated, naive and desperate women. This is when the system fails. This is when a third party 'agent' gets to line his/her pockets at the expense of other people's desperation and with complete disregard for the lives being created.

We live in 2014 for goodness sake! It really makes me wonder at the state of humanity that we are STILL exploiting women and children. And I also think this is where most people are getting confused in directing their horror and frustration at this story. It's easiest to throw up our arms and say 'surrogacy is morally corrupt', 'there should be a blanket ban worldwide' and that people seeking surrogates are 'horrible human beings'. But that isn't the case and it doesn't solve anything. That doesn't deal with the fundamental problems of infertility or the exploitation of women, it simply tarnishes everyone with the same soiled brush.


I honestly don't know what the answer is.

I have been contacted by a number of media outlets to state my opinion, but have declined out of respect for Zander's parent's and the privacy of his family. But it has certainly got me thinking about the process of surrogacy in Australia versus other countries around the world. At one point I probably would have pushed for surrogacy in Australia to become commercial like many other countries, as it seems like in Australia the surrogate is the one doing all the work and taking all the risk, but the only one NOT to benefit financially! But I think I've done a backflip on that opinion this week.

I don't know that there can be a system where a surrogate is paid for her 'services', that doesn't open itself up for exploitation? Would it then become those with means seeking out those without? Women may be coerced into becoming a surrogate by the prospect of a 'payout' when maybe they otherwise wouldn't have offered? I honestly don't believe this would be the situation everytime - there will always be women willing to be a surrogate regardless of financial gain (strange but true - they do exist!), but it does feel like a bit of a moral minefield. Money has a long history of corrupting otherwise innocent scenarios...

The way the Australian system works at present has the surrogate volunteering her service. She gets no financial benefit (and often times ends up out of pocket herself as Intended Parents can't possibly pay for every pregnancy-related cost as some are quite obscure!). She does what she does simply because she wants to help. Both parties undergo counselling to cover the full medical process as well as the social and psychological impact of the pregnancy/creating another human being - so there is no confusion as to what is going to happen. And the most important factor is that both parties are entering into the arrangement as equals. There is no 'employer/empolyee' roles to play, and therefore no feeling of ownership or power. If anything the IPs put themselves in a vulnerable position as the law in Australia states that the surrogate has full control of her pregnancy.

This process is by no means foolproof, and it doesn't always go to plan. People say one thing, then do another. People make promises that they may not be able to fulfill. Emotions run hot. Miscommunication happens. Hormones wreck havoc and lives can be put in jeopardy. And at the end of the process the surrogate is left with nothing but a few more stretch marks, and in the worst scenarios possible irreparable physical damage.

Despite this, without surrogacy, a sweet little boy would not exist.

There will always be couples seeking the assistance of a surrogate to help them have a child. Just as there will always be women willing to carry for another person. The discrepancy lies in the amount of couples needing a surrogate, versus the number of women willing to carry for no payment. Which is how commercial surrogacy becomes a booming business.

I think as a society we like someone else to tell us how to feel, and we like to view things dichotomously. It's easier for our brains if we can just categorise something as 'good' or 'bad'. It means we don't have to think about all of the variations inbetween because that requires way too much effort (and way too much empathy!).

Surrogacy, however, is not a black and white topic. It is complicated, and emotional, and important - oh so important. It quite literally involves life and death. And I think if nothing else it's a good thing that people are talking about it at the moment. What happens from here I do not know. But I only wish the best for the poor twins caught up in the current scandal.

Officially not mine

Today was the court hearing to officially and legally transfer the parentage of Zander from my husband and I to his actual parents. None of us had any idea what to really expect never having found ourselves in a position where we were required to present at the Supreme and District Courts of Brisbane before... but we all survived!

We paid for an extra day of kindy for our own kids so they didn't have to tag along as well, but Zander's parents were told that it would look better if they had the boys with them on the day.

The whole proceedure was VERY formal. We had to wait to be told to sit. We had to wait to be asked a question before we could speak, and we had to say 'your honour' after every response. Mark and I attended un-represented, but Zander's parents had their lawyer there and he pretty muchly ran the show. He explained what documents had been submitted to the court, and how both parties involved had satisfied the requirements of the Surrogacy Act. The Judge then read through EVERY document.

We all just sat there in silence and waited. It took him nearly 30mins to do so. I found it hard to stop from fidgeting, so I must say I was pretty impressed by the behaviour of Zander and his brother. Zander pretty much just slept through the whole thing, only waking up at the end with a little cry for a bottle. And his 2yr old brother sat and read books and only attempted to run through the court room once or twice!

Then the Judge looked up from his reading and stated that he felt satisfied that this wasn't a commercial surrogacy situation and that it was in the best interests of the child to transfer parentage. He congratulated us all and reiterated that in his 16 years of experience as a judge he had seen just how important it was for children to know where they came from, and encouraged us to keep things open and honest with Zander (all of which we had explained we would do in the court-submitted paperwork anyways).

We gathered outside of the court room after it was over and we all immediately relaxed. The process was finished. Properly, legally finished! We took some photos, Zander needed a nappy change (pooing in court will be his claim to fame!) and then we all escaped the formality of the building and went to lunch to celebrate!

I honestly think the worst bit about the legal side of things was just not knowing what to expect. The reality of it was far less daunting then I'd imagined it would be. I also found it really surreal to see Zander again after a few months. He looked just the same as before, but had obviously grown and changed a fair bit at the same time. He is way more alert and gives away smiles to whoever happens to take his fancy, and is just such a happy, content little guy.

And so the Aussie Surrogacy Journey is officially finished. Obviously this doesn't mark the end of the relationship between our family and Zanders family at all, but it does feel like a significant and celebratory-worthy milestone!

Congratulations Mr Zander, you are now officially your parent's son!

Life goes on.

Zander will be 7wks old tomorrow, and is out of hospital and doing much better. Time is such a strange, relative thing. It simultaneously feels like an eternity since I was pregnant with him and worrying about having to give birth, yet just yesterday that he was pushing and shoving against my insides. I have plunged myself back into our family business after taking a bit of time off to recover, and have a dozen orders/projects that I'm trying to work on at the same time. This is all great, and very normal - but it means that I don't actually spend a great deal of my day thinking about surrogacy stuff anymore. It kind of feels like that was simply 'something I did', a part of my story, but not something that I'm living and breathing so much anymore.

I think when you're pregnant with your own child there's a tendancy to become totally absorbed with all things baby. I think the same thing happens when you're pregnant with a surrogate baby, only the absorption is with all things surrogacy and the exciting unknowns of the journey.

I remember the taxi ride home following the embryo transfer back in July last year, and wanting to tell the driver what had just happened. That I was quite possibly pregnant with someone elses child. It's a similar feeling on the flip side. I get about doing the daily errands, and at times I just want to tell people 'I was a surrogate. I gave birth 7wks ago. I gave a family a baby'. But I don't. Slipping a birth story into small talk with a cashier is not something I'm great at!

When there was a baby-bump it was obvious I was pregnant and I was able to choose how much information to disclose to curious strangers. Now I just have a slighty-flabbier-than-usual-belly, but there's nothing outwardly obvious to say 'I gave birth'. There's no newborn in a pram, or packets of nappies in the trolley... It's just my story. A piece of the puzzle that is my life, that is now a narrative told in past-tense. Its a curious thing really... how a life-changing, life-giving scenario becomes 'just a little something that I once did'!

I suppose I could look at it in a different light though... that I've simply passed the baton of this story onto Zander himself. This isn't my story anymore. This is his story. This is the start of his life and everything that he will become. I am the opening sentence in the novel of his life and it is up to him to write the rest.

Unwell baby boy

Poor little Zander ended up in the hospital this week. He's still there, and is likely to be there for at least another week yet. He has RSV, a respiratory virus that is making it very hard for him to breathe/eat. His poor parents are beside themselves, and his mum is torn between needing to be in hospital with him and needing to be there for her 2yr old as well.

He's been tested for whooping cough, and that has come back negative. So that's one positive at least. The doctors are a little concerned by how long it is taking his body to fight the virus, and there has been talk of needing to go to ICU if things get any worse - but for now he seems stable.

I can only imagine what this must be like for his family. Having such a young baby so sick. Even just getting to the point where you realise you need to take your baby back to the hospital because things have gotten that bad... I can imagine, but I've never been there so I don't really *know*. It's a strange position for a surrogate, and not something I thought about as a possible scenario post-surrogacy journey. How would I feel if my surro bub got seriously ill?

There's physically nothing I can do for him. I toyed with the idea of asking if his parents wanted me to courier some expressed milk up there for him to try and help with his immune system, but I stopped pumping a few days ago and have gone from getting 80mls a session to 8mls. My body has finished its task now, and is letting me know. I still feel this inexplicable need to 'help' in some way though. I don't know if I've just become addicted to helping, or if it's because he was born from my body? I honestly don't know how I would feel if this was a friend's baby in this position... I assume I would feel much the same in my desire to want to do something to assist?

But as my thoughts just go around and around, I come back to the same conclusion - there is nothing I can do. He is with his mum and dad and they are doing everything for him. He's getting the best medical care and monitoring, and literally all we can do now is wait and give his little body time to heal itself.

What's it like?

Throughout this whole surrogacy journey there was always one question that I couldn't answer - what would it be like after the baby is born?

I've lived the immediate version of this; the push-baby-out-and-hand-him-over bit. And that was totally fine, a relief really. 

I've lived the recovery-period version of this; the go-home-and-lick-my-wounds/hug-my-kids-and-be-thankful-to-be-unpregnant bit. And while that was pretty intense and emotional for me, it was survivable. Once the hormones died down and my hemoglobin levels increased, once I had a few full nights of sleep and got to see everyone loving on that baby - I felt great. I got that 'surro high' that the surrogate support group talk about. I had been an integral part of giving life to that little baby and I was damn proud of myself. 

I've even lived the good-bye version of this; the 'see-you-at-some-unspecified-time-in-the-future-when-baby-will-be-so-much-more-grown-up bit. And this was ok too. It felt a little anticlimactic actually. I don't know what I was expecting from myself, but it literally was just a hug and a 'see you later' and then back to my life. 

So what's it like now, one month post delivery? 

It actually feels surreal. It feels like it happened to someone else. Even my memories of the birth and the pain and the days in hospital have faded and blurred a little already. I find myself thinking 'birth isn't THAT painful!'... it must be some kind of motherhood-induced anmesia that helps ensure the population continues to grow! 

It's not quite like it happened to someone else, but maybe more like it happened to me many years ago. Not one month ago. I still have no feelings of claim or possessiveness towards Zander at all - which has surprised me a little. I thought I'd feel something at some stage, but no. I am completely non-clucky. I can appreciate photos of babies, and don't mind holding them, but there's none of that 'must protect and nuture' instinct that happened with my own kids. 

I kind of feel like more should have happened emotionally, and like I'm still waiting for that to hit me. I think the worst bit is the continuation of that feeling of not having any significant importance in this 'story' anymore. I've been made redundant, and that's probably going to be the emotion/feeling that hangs on for the longest I'd say. And one I didn't foresee being so significant. 

All in a week.

This week has been a rather mixed bag of emotions.

On Sunday Zander's parents put on a BBQ and invited myself, hubby and our two kids, Zander's egg donor, her hubby and four kids, my mum, step-dad, youngest brother and sister and my grandmother. It was a full afternoon of gorgeousness. We'd never had everyone together in the same space before, but it was so comfortable and natural and everyone got on beautifully. The kids played, Zander's mum did an easter egg hunt, his dad cooked the steak and we enjoyed the beautiful weather.

I got to hold Zander for the first 20mins or so as people arrived. He fell asleep in my arms and snuggled in like a little koala. It was so nice to have that time with him. I wondered if I'd feel strange watching everyone at the BBQ hold him, but I honestly didn't. I handed him over to my mum when she arrived, and she got her first cuddle. Then he went to his egg-donor's hubby for a cuddle, then got held by her kids, then fed his bottle by his egg donor, then cuddles with my daughter, cuddles with my little sister and finally cuddles with my grandmother as well!!

I actually think that it was incredibly important for my family to have been there for the BBQ. They watched my belly grow... and then all of a sudden it was gone and the baby was with his parents. That afternoon gave them a chance to interact with his parents, hold the baby and see first hand how much he meant to his mum and dad. Something I could have talked about until I was blue in the face, but still wouldn't have had the same impact as actually being there.

(my daughter holding Zander after his nappy change)

 (My youngest sister having her cuddles with bub)

(My grandmother and Zander)

On Monday I had a doctors appointment to check my hemoglobin levels again (my lowest reading was 76 in hospital the day after Zander was born. They'd hit 78 by the saturday we left hospital, and on Monday they were up to 97! Slowly getting there! {the normal range is 115-160}). I met up with my student midwife for the appointment and we popped in to visit Zander and his parents briefly as well. 

It was actually really theraputic to be able to talk through the birth and all the associated drama with my student midwife. I think it was especially important to get her validation of how well I'd handled the labour, how well my body had done getting Zander out safely, but also how serious things had become following the retained placenta drama. She spoke about watching the bed get wheeled out of the room and noticing that I'd gone into shock and not knowing if she should stay with the baby or go with me. The conversation gave me the space to revisit some of the emotions I was still holding onto from the birth, and allowed me to process through them over the course of the next few days. 

On Tuesday baby's parents popped over briefly to drop in some groceries that they couldn't take back home with them, and to say our goodbyes before they flew home the next day. I didn't want a big deal made out of the goodbye, and I don't think they did either. So we kept it short and sweet. 

(Zander and his big brother leaving our place on Tuesday)

On Wednesday Zander's dad drove their car and all their belongings the 1000km+ back home, and Zander's mum, brother and grandma flew home. I kept busy with household chores, but still felt a little melancholy that the time with them living so close and being so accessable had come to an end. We would still be catching up on facebook and through txt messages each day though, so it was by no means 'THE END'! I think I was just feeling a little dramatic that day. 

On Thursday an article I had written about the surrogacy process was published on the online media page 'Mamamia'. This was huge, and I got a lot of messages of support and lots of positive feedback. I had been bracing myself for some negativity/trolls (there's usually always SOMEONE), but the overwhelming response was amazing. I was plesantly surprised, and feeling quite chuffed. 

So all in all, it was a full week, but a positive one. Zander is home with his family (his mum sent me these photos recently. It looks so lovely up there. And now we continue on with our lives as we wait for a court date to complete the parentage order. I'm really looking forward to watching Zander change through the photos his mum sends me... and hanging out for that first smile captured on camera!

1 week post birth

It's been one week since the big day. Zander is doing really well, and I am getting photos from his parents each day. We had our final counselling session to complete the legal requirements for the surrogacy process yesterday. I will admit I was a little anxious about it. The pre-surrogacy counselling was pretty intense so I was expecting much the same. I was worried that I would burst into tears/not be able to control my emotions, and it would be misunderstood as regret. But I did really well - no tears.

My trigger topics at present seem to be when anyone says how amazing the process is/being a surrogate is, or when they ask about my kids. Obviously these things were touched on during the counselling, and I did feel myself getting a little emotional - but maintained control. If I'm honest, I'm quite proud of myself considering I'm only a week post-birth!

I'm feeling a lot better with the dizziness/wooziness when I'm walking around too. I've either adjusted to a lower blood level or my body has replenished enough to get me across the line of feeling normal again. I definitely don't have the stamina I did pre-pregnancy when I was walking 10km treks with the dog, but I'm sure I'll get there again in time.

I'm also amazed by the changes in my body. My belly is by no means 'flat' (it never has been!), but i just feels so little at the moment in comparison to the last few months! I'm enjoying being able to wear my old clothes again, being able to bend over and lay on my belly to sleep.

I honestly have no regrets, and feel like people expect me to be more upset, or to be pining for Zander. But this just isn't the case, and it has kind of put me in an odd mind-set over the last few days as I've been interacting with people and getting these kind of responses, feeling like I need to justify or explain myself. I knew I'd be ok to hand the surro bub over at the end of the pregnancy - I wouldn't have volunteered for this process if I had any doubts. It's really quite black and white in my mind: he's just not my baby! Simple as that. I could no longer take him from his family then I could take my friend's newborn or my cousin's newborn. I have no claim to him in my mind, even though legally in Australia I do. The legal stuff is just a formality. He is with his family.

I look at all of these gorgeous photos of him and just feel proud. I wondered if it would be similar to how I feel about my neice, or my friend's kids, or even maybe what a grandma might feel - but I think it's different still. I mostly just feel really proud of my body for growing him so well, and delivering him safely. I can't take any credit for his genetics, but feel like those chubby cheeks and squishy thighs are thanks to me. I enjoy watching his mum and dad feed him and change him and hold him while he sleeps - but I honestly don't have any major desire to hold him myself.

I kind of feel like my job is done now, and it's time for me to step back. Which is probably the only thing that makes me feel a little sad. For so long my life has been focused on this huge event, and now it's happened. I don't have anything else that I need to do here, and for someone who likes to always be busy... this is a strange feeling. It's like having to re-adjust into my own life again!

He's here!

It feels like this blog post has been forever in the making. Everything has been leading to the moment this baby boy would enter the world... and now he is here!

Tuesday night was a bit restless for me knowing I had to be up at 4am to get ready to head into the hospital for induction. I actually think it was the most pain-free night I'd had in a while though - no cramping or tightening or braxton hicks. But my mind would not shut off as I went through everything that was still to come with the induction the next day.

I got up, had a shower, made some toast and double checked I'd packed what I needed in the hospital bag again. Baby's parents arrived just after 5am. They'd both had a crappy night too. Dad had what he thought was a tummy bug and mum had been up with their 2yr old. So we all started the adventure a little wiped out, but excited nonetheless.

We got to the hospital at 6am, and were taken through to a birth suite. I had kind of expected things would happen quite quickly, but we actually spent the first hour just on the monitor. They took some bloods and eventually put in a cannula (it took a few attempts).

I think it was around 8am before the midwife had the first go at breaking my waters. I was apparently about 3-4cm at this stage and soft and stretchy. But the membranes were too tough for her to get the hook through. So we waited a little longer. Shortly after a doctor came in and had an attempt as well. But by this stage baby had moved back a little and was sitting too high to break the waters safely (they didn't want to risk a cord prolapse). So she asked for the theatre to be put on standby before she did it. But we were then told that they'd just started a c-section. So we had to wait another hour or so.

By 10am they did the third attempt. I felt the incredibly warm trickle pooling under my legs. It's a crazy feeling. And the smell!!! Oh my goodness - I remember my hubby talking about the smell of the amniotic waters with the birth of our first baby, but I never paid attention to it. It actually reminded me of the smell of 'sex' - very hard to describe, but very distinctive.

They didn't want to wait to see if my body would start contracting on it's own, so they then attempted to start the syntocin drip - but the fluid started dripping back down my fingers. The cannula had tissued, probably when they asked me to put my fists under my butt to lift my pelvis for the breaking of the waters. So that cannula was removed  and another one was attempted on the side of my wrist on the other hand (as they'd already attempted on the top earlier in the morning!). The drip was set up by 10:30am, and contractions had begun.

I set myself up on the exercise ball with a towel under me to catch the constant fluid. My student midwife Alex was INCREDIBLE! She just seemed to know where to be and what to do without my having to say anything. Baby's dad was sent off to the chemist to buy a larger heat pack for my back as the heat was really helping too. I was actually pleasantly surprised by the contractions for the first 3hrs or so. I was getting breaks between them where it was just the achey back, then I'd get the wave of pain right down low in the front of my pelvis, and if I kept moving/rocking on the ball I was able to keep on top of it.

They kept asking if I'd like the gas and air, but I knew from my trial with that in my first labour that I didn't want it. It makes me feel like I've lost control. And I managed to do my son's labour without gas - so I was pretty sure I'd be ok. It was at about the 1:30pm mark that I started to loose it a bit. The pain was becoming overwhelmingly intense and the pressure in my back/bottom was increasing. All things I knew had to happen for this baby to come out, but I was just so tired, and so overwhelmed and feeling like I was never going to be pain-free again. I was getting told how well I was doing from baby's parents and the midwives... but that just served to make me cry more! I felt totally helpless and I think the fear took over a bit at that stage too. Just how much worse was the pain going to get?

I managed to explain about the pressure, and how my body felt like it was bearing down a little with each contraction already. So by about 2pm they asked me to hop back up onto the bed to be checked. I was 7cm. I lost it a bit. I felt like there was still so far to go and that my body couldn't possibly cope any more. I asked for an epidural. The midwife said she didn't think there would be time for that, but said to 'think about it for a few contractions'. I was still on my back on the bed at this stage - but surprisingly the pain had changed. I was actually now pain free between contractions and felt really peaceful. I was actually drifing off between them. Then one would hit and it was like I just wanted to escape my body.

My body was pushing spontaneously again but the midwife didn't seem worried - she said to just go with what my body wanted to do. With one contraction/push I felt a gush of fluid - but I think it was wee. They told me I needed to empty my bladder, and once that happened baby would probably come. So they helped me off the bed, and I made an agonising waddle the few steps to the toilet and dropped myself over it. INSTANTLY I was in agony. I was pushing, pooeing and weeing all at once. I have never felt so much pain in my life. I felt like I was going to split in half. The midwives got a little worried at this stage as they tried to look into the toilet bowl - and I was quickly moved back to the bed. Once there I could feel them trying to clean me up a bit (it's totally motifying to think I pooed myself in front of everyone, but at the time I totally didn't care at all).

My body really started pushing at this stage. I could feel baby's head working it's way down - which actually felt like it was moving up - I think because of the angle of my pelvis. It literally felt like a rock-hard bowling ball that I was trying to pass. It didn't feel like it took very long, and I could feel the burning of my perineum and thought he must be crowning. But with the next round of pushes the burning got way worse. I had my eyes closed so couldn't see what was going on, but I felt the widest part of his head make its way out, then pause at his neck. With what seemed like a hell of a lot of effort/pushing his body made it's way out in a gush of fluid and was placed up on my belly. The pain stopped immediately. Zander Michael was born at 2:40pm on Wednesday the 26th March 2014, weighing in at 4.33kg (9lb, 9oz), 57cm long (22") and had a head circumference of 37.5cm (a good 1.5cm bigger then my son's!)

I opened my eyes and looked down to see him all covered in vernix and looking just like his big brother, but with slightly gingery hair! He felt so warm and wriggly on my belly. We waited for his cord to stop pulsing, then his dad cut it and I held him up for them to see and he was handed to his mum. I felt the sting of the injection in my leg to help release the placenta, and we waited for a contraction to get it out. But it just didn't want to come away. The midwife said it could take up to an hour. So we just waited. She turned the syntocin drip back up, massaged my belly and asked me to push if I could... but nothing. Then I started to feel the warmth of more liquid between my legs. I never looked down there, but knew what it was. After about half an hour they laid the bed back flatter and were scooping out the bedding/mats from under me and weighing them. Numbers were being thrown around and added up, and with each new gush, added to again.

Eventually someone made the decision that the placenta wasn't coming away on it's own and a few new faces entered the room. I can only imagine what the scene would have looked like with my laying there totally naked from the belly down and blood everywhere - something that probably wouldn't have even fazed them though. The midwife said that someone needed to call my husband to let him know what was happening, so baby's mum made the call. I think she was trying to stay calm and explain that I was still ok, but the midwife yelled across the room that it wasn't ok at all (and my poor hubby heard that!). I was spoken to very calmly and gently by a few doctors who explained what was happening and what they needed to do. Another doctor was setting up yet another cannula on my other hand, someone else was inserting a catheter, and I was asked if I would prefer a general anesthetic or an epidural (NOW they offer me one! lol). I was in so much pain at this stage that I explained that I would have prefered the epidural because I don't wake up very well from generals, but that there was no way I could sit up for it.

So I was wrapped up and the bed was pushed out of the room. I just remember wanting the pain to stop and the ride to the theatre seemed to take so long. I had to shuffle from the birth suite bed over to the theatre one which took all of my effort. A mask was put over my face and someone leaned in beside me and said 'don't worry honey, you've got babies at home to get back to. We'll look after you'.

And then I looked up and it was 5:30pm and I was in recovery and shivering like crazy. I actually didn't have as much trouble waking up this time and was pretty with it in a few minutes. A doctor came to speak with me and said that they'd managed to get the placenta out, that I didn't have any tears or grazes and my uterus was contracting back nicely now, but that I'd lost at least 2L of blood. They hadn't given me a transfusion, but said they'd keep an eye on my blood levels. They sat me up briefly and I wasn't too dizzy. Then someone came to push the bed back to the ward. I remember thinking 'oh, it's probably a good thing the kids aren't here to see this' - then we rounded the corner and they were standing there with my hubby. The looks on their little faces was heartbreaking. I must have looked a sight with the horrible purple hospital gown, oxygen cord under my nose, drips on each arm and a catheter bag hanging off the bed!

Baby's mum was there too, and bub was sleeping soundly. Apparently he'd gotten quite unsettled after all the drama as everyone was waiting to see what had happened with me, but he'd been fed some of the expressed colostrum and had finally settled. I got a cuddle and my kids jumped up on the bed with me to say hello and meet the baby. They asked lots of questions about the bed and about the tubes and cords and things, but seemed to take it all in without any worries. Kids are amazing like that! My 3yr old asked if I was broken, which made me laugh. I explained that I was just a little bit, but that I'd get better.

(Zander at 8hrs old later that night)

We ended up spending three nights in hospital. Baby's mum was able to stay the whole time too, and is seriously a natural with all this newborn stuff! In his first 24hrs, Zander was quite mucussy, and went blue a few times trying to cough it up from his lungs which was bloody scary. But he had stopped doing that by the time we went home on Saturday morning.  

(First bath with his mum and dad at approx 20hrs old)

He got expressed colostrum for the first 24hrs, and then went onto formula. He very quickly went from being satisfied with 10-20ml per feed, to taking nearly 150ml of formula in the space of a few hours on his third night!

(cuddles with his pop)

It was incredible to witness his big brother meeting him for the first time as well. He was so gentle and curious. And genuinely excited at the prospect of having 'bubba' come home with him! The three days in hospital must have seemed like an eternity for him. I know my kids and hubby were missing me as well, and the second visit they made to the hospital was quite emotional. My daughter didn't want to leave me and cried as her dad had to physically pull her away so they could leave. For an incredibly hormonal, over tired and low-on-blood mumma, this was almost too much to bare.

As good as I felt about the gift I'd just given, I also felt incredibly guilty for being away from my kids for so many days. And it's that feeling of guilt that is proving a little tricky to shake.

(Bubba and mumma)

(Proud surro-mum. Feeling quite good here, I think this was second day in hospital)

(look at those cheeks!!!!)

(More brother cuddles)

(My 4yr old got her first cuddle and was feeling very proud of herself for holding up his head - albeit a little awkwardly!).

(Eyes open)

(The delicious hopsital breakfast! lol. I actually didn't mind having my meals delivered to me three times a day at all, but was so greatful to go home and have access to my own food again).

We had all thought I'd be fine to go home on the Friday. I was feeling good, baby was fine - but my blood levels had dropped further (apparently they transfuse when you get to 80, and I had dropped to 76), and my liver results weren't great either. So we ended up in for that extra night because I didn't want the transfusion. I was so focused on getting out of there, and feeling quite well that I didn't realise how exhausted I'd feel once I did get home and was back on mummy-duty. I'm physically totally fine - I don't feel like I just pushed out a 9lb, 9oz baby at all - but just feel totally wiped of energy. A little like being hit by a truck and just having your whole body screaming out for rest.

My hubby has been fantastic. So attentive and caring and beautiful - so much so that everytime he does something lovely I burst into tears again. This morning he made toast for me and I found myself sitting there crying while I ate it! I'm crazy hormonal, and I think my milk has probably come in as I'm feeling very full and pendulous! I'm not terribly uncomfortable there yet though, so won't express until I need to for comfort. I'm just impatient to start feeling like me again. After the exhaustion of the last few months of pregnancy, I am just over feeling tired. But I know I have to be patient... I just don't do that very well!

We have counselling later this week as part of the legal process of having Zander's parantage transferred from us to his parents, and his mum is sending me photos of him each day which is lovely. I'll save a few and post them here the next time I log back on.