I knew my ideal birth-plan probably wasn't going to happen. I'd been warned about that part.
I knew to expect labour and birth to be long and tricky and unpredictable, and it was. My birth, like most births, didn't pan out as I expected.
I was induced just shy of 38 weeks after I turned up at the hospital with leaking. Turns out my waters had been broken for the last 24 hours and I just hadn't realised.
I also broke my tailbone during birth after spending more than two hours pushing. That was certainly unexpected.
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But I'd readied my brain for things out of my control happening to me during childbirth. What I hadn't prepared for was the possibility that my son and I would be separated at birth. That something out of my control would happen to us, our bond and our experience together after he was here.
I'd had a pretty uneventful pregnancy. Normal symptoms and completely healthy tests and checkups. I'd assumed I would likely be in and out of the hospital in a matter of days.