Emotional Ramblings · pregnancy

Alfie’s Birth Story – Part 1

As I write this I’m 30 weeks pregnant with baby number two and I have absolutely loved recording this pregnancy – something I really regret not doing with Alfie’s. Before the memories fade or become hazy, I wanted to write down his birth story, because despite it being four years ago, I do remember an awful lot about it…

 I’d finished work on 31 July 2012, 6 weeks before my due date, which whilst welcomed, wasn’t my original plan. I’d been made redundant when I was four months pregnant from the place Michael and I worked together (it was the place we met) and I had been lucky enough to get a temporary job on a three month contract where my Dad worked. Once I finished work, I’d realised how much I needed to rest. I’d been suffering with SPD and the early mornings and long days, combined with sitting behind a desk all day had begun to take its toll. Towards the final couple of weeks, I’d felt ready to meet the baby, but I was still quite enjoying being pregnant. I didn’t feel like I was suffering too much or too fed up. My official due date was the 14 September, and I didn’t for one minute think the baby would arrive early…

Thursday 6 September

Michael got up and went to work as normal and when I got up, I just felt….odd. I couldn’t really put my finger on it, but I felt different to the day before. As the morning progressed, I found I couldn’t settle. I was up and down like a yo-yo. I’d been on my birthing ball, I’d been sat on the couch, the rocking chair – nothing was easing the discomfort I was feeling and I couldn’t concentrate on watching tv or reading either.

Around lunch time, I started to feel really strange. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but that feeling of just not feeling right when I got up had continued. I’d started to get very mild cramps – nothing too serious but just enough to make me go ‘ooh’ when it happened. It kind of felt like really big movements, so I didn’t think too much of it in all honesty. Michael came home at lunch time and could see that something was different in me and wanted to know if he should stay home. I told him no. I remember sitting on my birthing ball whilst he had his dinner and just trying to find a position that was comfortable, to no avail. I sent Michael back to work, telling him I would phone him if anything changed, but for now I was ok, just very uncomfortable.

 An hour after he’d gone, I still couldn’t settle, so took myself off for a bath. Whilst it was running, I sat on my bed and happened to catch a glimpse of my belly in the mirror and it was the most bizarre shape – very egg like and my bump looked so much bigger! I snapped this picture and I’m so glad I did as it’s the last picture I’ve got of my bump (the quality is extremely poor as they were taken on a very old phone in a dark room, but I will treasure them as my last photos of Alfie in my belly – also, I am wearing underwear, you just can’t see it).


After my bath, I tried to have a little sleep. By now it was around 3pm and the day just felt like it would be never ending. The cramps had gotten stronger, but were still very, very far apart. I sent my Mum a quick text telling her and instantly she was on the phone telling me to time them! At that stage, there was nothing to time, they were very sporadic, some would be sharp pains, whilst others would last longer but there was definitely no kind of pattern or consistency to them.

The afternoon progressed and the cramps did get more intense, so I phoned Michael as I just felt like I needed him there. We agreed he would come home early and arrived just after 4pm. I was still a week away from due date and was actually really worried about it just being a false alarm and him having to go back to work the next day and me wasting his time. Never the less, with the way I felt, I didn’t really want to be alone. The next few hours seemed to pass so slowly with me pacing up and down, being on and off the birthing ball. Mum came round about 9.30pm after work and was pretty certain that I was having contractions. By this point, I had to agree. We were in the kitchen having a drink and I remember getting one and being doubled over the island unit. I think that was the first time I’d really actually admitted that there was no denying that I was having contractions. I’d lost my plug a couple of days before, so I kind of knew it wouldn’t be too long. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Around 10.30pm Mum left and we took ourselves off to bed. Michael fell asleep pretty much right away. I dozed in and out of sleep but the contractions were getting more severe. I hoped to at least get some rest…


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