There will be a lot of swearing. You see, I’m not a big fan of hospitals, needles or blood. Which was totally fine until I was told that I needed to have a Cesarean section to safely delivery my baby (more about that here). I pushed it out (geddit?) of my mind until my obstetrician asked:
“So, how does Friday week sound to you?”
He was talking about locking in the birth. He was talking about deciding which day my daughter’s birthday would be. It felt weird.
Until I sat in the car. That’s when I thought, F*ck, I’m having a baby. Forward “Friday week” and this, my friends, is what a caesarean really feels like:
10:05am Order the largest breakfast that you can fit on the table. I won’t be allowed to eat for the next 24 hours (2 hours is the longest time imaginable for a pregnant woman not to eat, 24 hours sounds like hell).
10:10am “Our last meal without a baby.” That’s my husband. Sounds like I’m on death row.
Avi and her daughter. Image supplied.
Noon Answer phone call from mum talking about what I'm up to today. You see, only my obstetrician and husband knew I was having a C-section. I just didn't need anyone reminding me I was about to give birth. "Not much... no, I don't think I will come to the shops with you this afternoon... yeah, best to rest... okay bye."
12:30pm Respond to second text message from considerate friends asking if I've given birth yet. They don't know about the C-Section. Just asking in general. As you do.
3:00pm Leave for hospital. Hyperventilate. Breath deeply. Tell husband not to touch me.
4:15pm Midwife comes to get me dressed. Realise she is also trained as a beautician as she offers to give me a Brazilian, unfortunately I already spent the $40. She insists on checking the work of my beautician. Number of people who have seen my vagina: 1.