You can find the first part of this story here.

I had decided pretty early on in this pregnancy that I’d like to give birth at home - everything had gone smoothly last time and I figured I’d be just as safe at home as in hospital since I’d have 2 midwives dedicated to me and me alone. So at 38weeks I was officially ‘on call’ for my midwife team to come out to me when needed. I really can’t fault their care, it was brilliant! I had all my appointments at home which was a godsend as there’s no way I’d have been able to get to the doctor’s surgery with Zack in tow in those last couple of months.

My official due date of Sept 28th went by, so did the 1st of Oct, still no baby. I’d had a sweep at 39wks,40wks, and again at 41wks, apparently I’d progressed to ‘a good’ 3cm dilated by that point. Each time I had a sweep the signs were promising. I’d have a show the next day and cramps on and off for a good couple of days, but nothing that ever went into full blown labour.

By 41wks and my 3rd sweep my MW mentioned that she’d booked me in for an induction on the 12th of Oct, but she didn’t expect me to need it, and of course it was up to me to decide wether I wanted to do that or carry on being monitored to go naturally (she was a star of a MW, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better!).

On the monday (the 8th) I had a call saying she’d managed to get it moved to that wed, the 10th. By this point I was so sick of being pregnant that I just wanted him out, regardless of how or where it happened. I was to call up at 8am to see if they had a bed available… and guess what, they didn’t. The person on the phone said to call back at around noon to see if there was any space then. Again they were really sorry but still no beds available *sigh*. I was asked to call back at 6pm.

I felt awful - was so jealous of all these women who were going into labour naturally when for one reason or another, even though all the signs were there that I *should* be in labour, I was stuck being 12 days over due and looking at another night of hell trying to sleep and crying cause it was just so damn sore. 6pm came and there were still no beds. They asked if they had a spot late evening then would I be able to come in? Luckily by this point my parents had booked into a local hotel to look after Zack and help out at home and while J and I were at hospital for this induction that seemed was never going to happen. I said yes, to call me at any point, and we could be there within the hour.

We got Zack into bed at his usual time and I decided to have a bath to try to relax. I had resigned myself to thinking that it wasn’t going to happen that day and I wouldn’t be meeting my son for at least another day or more. I had my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t be born on the 13th, not because of the superstitions related to it, but because it’s my my brother-in-law’s birthday, someone we really don’t get on with, but that’s a whole other story for another day!

I was suffering from constantly needing to go to the toilet but being unable to pass anything, but then this wasn’t exactly anything new, so I didn’t think anything of it. By 8pm though I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t sit down, I kept feeling like I was going to pee myself, but when I went to the loo I couldn’t do a damn thing. I had a very tight tummy by this point but had had this on and off constanly for the past 2-3 weeks, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up that something might actually be happening. I decided that if I still felt so crappy by 9pm I’d call my MW and ask her to come check me over.

At 8.30pm I had a call from the hospital, they had a bed for me now if I was able to come in. I had to say yes… the thought of this being a false alarm and things not actually kicking off was just too much to deal with, so I said we’d be there within the hour.
I called my parents and they came over straight away, my dad driving us to the hospital…

Kinda nicked this idea from Veronica… sorry honey hope you don’t mind!

This time last year I decided on one New Year’s Resolution… just one, because I knew that if i achieved it it’d take up too much time for me to concentrate on any other goals.

It was this time last year that J and I decided to try for another baby, a sibling for Zack. I had thought it would take at least a couple of months after coming off the pill, sorting out periods etc, so was hoping that we’d at least have another on the way by the end of the year if not actually here.

So my pill-induced period came on Christmas day - lucky me eh? At least this way I could guarantee I’d remember it for figuring out when my next was due etc. Luckily for me, that period never came. I had fallen pregnant in the first 2 weeks of the new year and initially had a due date of the 1st of October, give or take a few days. I think J was a bit miffed that he didn’t get the chance for us to practice at making a baby though, poor sod
By the end of January my morning sickness had already started - I was so worried that I would get as sick as I did last time around with the HG, but luckily for me it seemed that I was lucky to just have ‘normal’ morning sickness this time around.

At the 12 week scan the sonographer decided that my due date should be changed to Sept 28th because of the sizes. I knew that this baby would be late though, so I wasn’t expecting any arrival til October, especially since Zack had been 5 days late.

By the 20 weeks scan we found out that’it’ was actually a ‘he’ (hooray!! ), and the morning sickness had completely gone, but in it’s place I could already feel the very start of SPD. Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction basically meant the joint in the pelvis had widened too much in readiness for the birth and was causing problems. At this stage it was just a niggle but I mentioned it to my midwife as I’d had it last time around but not so early on, and there was no way I could afford for it to get as bad as before because I had Zack in my care.

I had an appointment at around 27 weeks to see a physiotherapist to check out the SPD, I was right, it was back again, and by this time it was already getting pretty sore. She gave me a support to wear that fitted from under my boobs right down over my hips and said that I could come back at any point if I felt I needed more help than the support was giving me. She warned me that there’s only so much they would be able to do, either crutches or a wheelchair if it got that bad, and a lot of pain medication from the doctor’s was as far as they could go. I hoped it wouldn’t get that far.

I managed pretty well with just the support until I hit 34 weeks, and from then on the pain became unbearable so I went to the doctor’s and was prescribed some stronger pain meds that were safe to use during the last trimester. They helped to take the edge off but I knew I’d have to eek them out as it was going to get much worse before it got better…

The doc had suggested me going back to physio but we chatted and came to the conclusion that there wouldn’t be much point - it wasn’t going to make life any easier if i had to hobble around on crutches with a 2 yr old, and a wheelchair was out of the question - I could still walk, it was just tear-jerkingly painful.

I was pretty much housebound from this point out. I could just about manage walking around our flat as there were plenty of things to lean on throughout the house, and it all being on one level definitely helped.

By 38 weeks I was in so much pain I could barely get in and out of bed, to the point that J had to book special leave to take care of me and Zack as I was in no position to be able to look after a 2 year old on my own. I Hated this part of pregnancy so much. Why me? J ended up having to cancel his time off that he’d booked for Christmas and New Year so that he could look after us. I was gutted but I knew I had to admit defeat and accept that I needed him to be there from then on until our lil one arrived.

Oh my god… surely not? I checked the test, rechecked it, and did the second one just to be sure, yep that blue line was most definitely there… I was pregnant and that was that.

I should be excited right? We’d been trying for about three months by this point. I should be happy and ecstatic and so looking forward to being a mummy like we’d planned. So why was my first feeling about this fear? I was scared out of my wits and had so many questions zooming around my head I felt suffocated. It didn’t help that J had such a happy look on his face. I mean, I’m glad he did because I knew it meant he was happy about it too, but in that moment I felt my life change forever and I didn’t know how to take it.

What if it was too soon? I was only 19 after all, I’d be 20 when I had this baby. What would our family and friends think? We’d only been engaged for a few months, not even together for a full year and I was already pregnant… I knew we’d get it in the neck from both sets of parents. What if I couldn’t cope? What about those drinks I’d had the weekend before - could they have harmed my baby? The questions buzzing around my head were never ending and I couldn’t think properly… I needed a stiff drink, but I couldn’t have one now, I wanted a cigarette to calm my nerves, but there was no way I could justify that either. So the cigarettes went in the bin, J had the drink and I sat there in a stupor trying to let this life-changing news sink in… I was going to be a Mummy.

It probably wasn’t the best of times to decide to try for a baby. Ok it definitely wasn’t the best of times to try for a baby. We were both at university and in the middle of our degrees, mine in Pharmacology and his in Computing. How on earth would we manage this? J had been thinking of chucking it in for a while and had started a full time job by this point. I on the other hand, didn’t have a clue what I’d do with my life other than what I’d always planned - I’d get my degree, then a PhD, then go into research. How could I possibly do that now? I’d have to take a break from uni and then decide whether I could go back or not.

The pregnancy had its ups and downs.
I ended up hospitalized on Christmas Eve due to Hyperemesis Gravadarum (severe morning sickness that just goes on and on and on). That didn’t go away till over halfway through it.
I managed to get symphysis pubis dysfunction, where the ligaments and tendons between the joints become too loose in the pelvis and cause immense pain. The SPD was worse because I’m hyper-mobile as it is. As my doctor put it, I’m as flexible normally as your average pregnant woman is, so when I actually am pregnant and have the hormone relaxin released in me to ‘open up’ the pelvis for a baby to fit through… well, you get the drift, and it’s really not fun.
I also just happened to be heavily pregnant in what was the hottest summer in Dundee to date, and to top it off there was a heatwave when I went into labour.

Ah labour… that was fun - not. It was by far the most painful experience I’ve ever been through. I’ll spare the details. On second thought, no I won’t! I was 5 days overdue when I woke up to go for my usual 5am loo trip when I had a show (snot-looking blob of jelly… glamorous business this pregnancy and birth stuff). I thought finally something might be happening but didn’t want to get too excited so off I waddled back to bed. By 6am I was having sore and regular contractions. By 9am I was in the hospital being told there weren’t enough beds in the labour suite but that I could stay up in the wards if I wanted. Go home and deal with pain on my own or stay in hospital and have Entonox (gas & air) on tap… difficult decision eh?
By about 3pm I was in a LOT of pain and wanted more pain relief which I got in the form or diamorphine. I’d also been told to be quiet by one of the midwives as I was disturbing the other women… now I look back on it I think I would have been a lot ruder if it hadn’t been my first labour! Finally got down to the labour ward at around 4pm, waters went around 5pm, I started pushing at about 5.10pm and Zack was born at 5.18pm. As soon as he was out the pain stopped. He’d pooped himself while he was still inside and had to be taken to the resuscitation unit just outside to give him a little oxygen and luckily he was back in the room just a couple of minutes later.

I looked down at my beautiful little boy and fell so deeply in love with him it felt unreal. His big blue eyes opened and he looked right in my eyes and I knew I’d never ever want to be parted from this beautiful little being that I’d grown inside me.