Rookie mistake #1:
Not planning enough time in advance to make sure I could hop into the shower before my husband went to work.
Rookie mistake #2:
Thinking it was a good idea to bring the toddler into the shower with me. Cue a five minute shower becoming a 15 minute one followed by an extra 10 minutes chasing the toddler around trying to towel dry his hair.
Rookie mistake #3:
Letting the toddler run around naked for two minutes – just TWO minutes – while I quickly threw my clothes on.
Cue me running topless across the landing shouting “nooooooo” with my hands out fruitlessly trying to catch the falling poo as the toddler squatted while throwing all the clothes from the laundry basket and simultaneously peeing on the wicker.
(Incidentally, you know you’re a mother when you reach out to catch someone else’s poo without giving it a second thought.)
Rookie mistake #4:
Attending to the carpet before the toddler who tries to stick his hands in it then runs to our cream carpeted bedroom leaving little gifts as he goes before taking a seat on the bathroom floor and giving his bum a good wipe on the tiles.
4 rookie mistakes = some serious carpet scrubbing + a disgraceful amount of wipes + an impromptu load of washing + 40 minutes late for work.
I’ll know better next time.
So my birth story and my post on TMI, leads me nicely on to this catchy headline!
There was poo.
Look, I’m cringing writing this but we need to talk about poo. It happens all the time in labour apparently. Tracy Donegan has a lovely paragraph in her Gentlebirth guide about how midwives love to see poo because it means your baby is nearly here. They see it all the time and usually just whisk it away before you even know its happened. I remember reading that when I was pregnant and taking a small bit of comfort from it but really being mortified by the thoughts of it. I also remember having a conversation with the only close friend of mine who had had a baby about how she had been a puker during labour but didnt land a number 2. I confessed that I feared that I might be a puker too because I tend to be anyway but secretly in my head I was thinking that I might be the horror of all horrors, a puker and a pooer.
I was right, I was!
In fairness, my labour was very fast. There was very little time for my body to do anything other than to purge itself really quickly to prepare for the arrival of my little man.
The puking started once my active labour kicked off. Suspecting this might happen, I had cunningly purchased a Tesco value white basin in advance for 99 cent and boy was I glad I did. The nutritional lunch I had just eaten to give my body energy for the labour, thinking that I would be at this for hours, violently came back up and nothing else passed my lips except for small sips of water through a straw which was generously proffered by my husband between contractions as I hung over the side of the birth pool.
The pooing came at the end when I was close to delivery. I won’t lie and say I’m totally fine about it. My scientific brain knows that it was perfectly natural and that it happens etc etc. But my emotional brain reminds me that it happened in front of my husband. The man I practice making babies with. Who has never even seen me pee. But he was and is ridiculously mature about it and totally unphased which is very cool. We laugh about it sometimes. But still I wish it didn’t happen but hey, what are you going to do? I have a beautiful baby boy who’s the best thing that every happened to me and has changed my life forever. A little poo is a happy trade off.
My birth story
Music for the soul