TAKE NOTES!

Ihad October babies and their due date was the same. Both girls. But wow, the two pregnancies could not have been more different. With the first, I’d moved to Germany three months before my due date. My gynae was a really old man who could barely speak English. He looked like Einstein. I felt quite alien and a little lonely. When I had to provide a urine sample on my first visit, I peed on my hand and that set the tone for the whole experience. He did an internal check from his fullfrontal position between the stirrups. Every. Single. Time.

It wasn’t all bad though. The German government paid me a royal R700 for bringing another citizen into the world and everything was free… even the midwife visits and the industrial breast pump they sent home with me after the birth. What I remember most clearly though, is that it was still summer when I went in to have her, but when we drove home with our new baby a week later the world had transformed itself into autumn. Beautiful!

With my second I was back in sunny SA. I felt empowered. I chose my own gynae – a no-nonsense women my own age. Only one internal check, discreetly done from the side of the examination table with my knees drawn up. She didn’t even weigh me. Ever. The c-section was over in a flash and I was sent home with my spring baby on day three, in time to organise her big sister’s birthday party a few days later. Looking back, I must have been on amazing pain meds!

My only regret is that I should have kept a journal. It’s weird how we forget details, given that pregnancy and birth are the biggest experiences a women is likely to have. So, take it from me – write it all down, document everything. When my children celebrate their birthdays this month (14 and 17 years old!) I’ll be telling them their birth stories, just as I do every year, revealing a few more details as they grow older.

Love