The story of Benjamin Luca

Being a mother for the third time does not make much difference.  You will still be a new mother, navigating new hurdles, learning new things.

It is so amazing really.

Benjamin Luca is different in so many ways.  The choice of names given by the children themselves.

My own choice is still quite apt- Malachi meaning my messenger and my angel.

Starting with pregnancy, I was the most stable hormonally, I ate reasonably and a combination of healthy/unhealthy alternatives, I tired easily and felt nauseous for the first time ever.  I learnt to listen more to my body and my instinct.  I learnt that I can do things I do not normally approve of because later I will still have the opportunity to reset it all. I learnt how good it is to communicate and how it is now helping us move more harmoniously as a family.

Birth….it was wonderful as I practically ticked off all on my wish list for the birth.  That is no interventions what so ever.  A lovely midwife to assist. A husband I could count on. And best of all I caught my own baby.  Yet emotionally I had to give my all.  My projected fears intensified after the last hospital appt and I could not shake them off- which made this birth my longest.  The contractions were harder than any of the others and I had to use strength which I never needed before and my projection of breathing the baby out rather than pushing him made laughing stock of me as I had to push incredibly hard to truly bring him earth side.  The intensity of it made me feel like a caged animal at times- not sure how or where to go.  I could not find a position for the longest time ever and in the end stayed mostly on all fours.  While I still believe I had a lovely birth, I now understand more the mother who says it was horrible and painful and wouldn’t do it again or would take all the drugs available.  There in that moment I could see why so many mothers tell horror stories and project unknowingly further fears to other mothers to be.  Yet, it was not pain, it was growing pains because I was growing and learning and he is my messenger in all of this.  It was lovely in every sense and I wouldn’t trade it differently.  Yet my heart still aches for what I felt was meant to be and what actually meant to be.  I was also afraid I wouldn’t get through it.  I was so hungry, yet when I tried to snack I got so nauseous I could not dream of trying again.  So with waning strength I knew I had to birth him now and I pushed like I never pushed before and with a strength I found I caught him without any assistance and that was the most magical experience.  Suddenly I could collapse in my husband’s arms and cradle my baby boy whom I waited for so long.

Even the placenta which normally births on its own in my case, I needed to give it a helpful couple of pushes.  The tree of life was thick and big and amazing.

The day after birth – I discharged myself because my other babies where longing to see me and their baby brother.  I also found no use in staying there doing nothing – at least I could do nothing in my own home.  I felt weak (still hadn’t managed to eat) and so tired I admit I could have used a wheelchair to get out of there.  And today I am clear and focused.  I do not feel tired but I am still weak and tiring quickly.  Also all those muscles I used for birthing this little man are claiming there place in protesting on over usage.

And to add to the learning curve, I am experiencing sore nipples.  Ironic being a breastfeeding counsellor! Yet it’s another tool for me to use in my work.

I still feel sad and in need of processing what happened and why this particular sadness for being so different from what I anticipated.  Yet I still claim this was the most amazing experience and that the real regret is not negotiating for a photographer to be present.


The Doctor forgot he has a client and human being by his side

The anger and upset still bubbles under the surface.

I try to formulate a complaint but the words that come to mind would only rate me as an insane woman probably.

The tension I am feeling is of big consequence for my own well-being and my child’s.

I was expecting more or less what happened.  I was not expecting how it was happening.  It was more then unethical to me.

My only regret?  I did not get up from that couch, opened the door and made a scene for all the people waiting in ante-natal to hear and see.

I am still thinking in anger while hearing that I should let go of fear.  A fear that since the birth of Maya it seems to have intensified and the reality of it become even more so.

I decide to wait, wait till the embers cool down, but by no means this is going to be let go.

I was treated as a transaction, like I was not there, as if I did not matter, as if my thoughts did not matter, as if they did not need MY CONSENT for anything, as if I NEEDED to be managed.  He was just closing another chapter with another pregnant woman.  I wonder how many have gone this path with him, how many more will.

I will not rest.  While I was well aware of all this, I experienced it so dimly with my previous births that my commitment probably wasn’t complete.  With this, I am irrevocably committed and the war has been waged.

I still shake with tears, I still need to come to terms with it.

I’ve been told many times that doctors have studied for this and I need to trust them, but the more time pass the less I trust them and unless they start proving otherwise I will not be trusting one very soon.

So utterly disappointed.

The waiting game is on

I was never a fan of waiting, although I got a good education in learning to wait.

This time round waiting for my little one to make a move is becoming quite a challenge at times.

Sometimes I get overly anxious and I wonder if this is truly my third pregnancy or should it be my first!  Things that never crossed my mind before run around the mill getting me to over think and wonder and worry.  Then my support reminds me of things that for some reason I seem to have forgotten and am reassured.

I remember to enjoy this moment and live in the now.  But I am being picky lately on many things and the now is just too much.  I can’t live now if baby is not born 🙂

I meditate and hear my birthing CD and take time to relax and nap and do mostly nothing.  The kids sense my retreat and leave me be most of the time even if I can see it in their eyes the longing to come near, to play……it breaks my heart but at the same time I need to separate from them for a little bit.

So in between the chaos that has taken hold of my house, I breathe and remember that my body and baby know best.  I visibly relax and wait- and live the waiting game.  IT is soon, very soon, I can feel it in every fibre of my being but the when eludes me yet.  So I breathe and let go of everything because later I will have time to keep the house and play and laugh.  Now is the time to sit still and reflect and wait.

I am snappy and withdrawn but that is OK, because I am soon to bring earthside this little baby and I am needed more to live within rather then on the outside.

I was never good at going against my nature and instinct.  So expectations are flown out of the window.  I try to keep commitments but I know I am failing miserably because my instinct tells me to forget it all and I trust my inner voice.  It’s exciting and tiring and the waiting- well it gives me time to reflect on a whole lot of things which are making more sense and are helping me change more into the woman I want to be- I am already but still in its budding state.

The mother goddess is awaiting eagerly because every wait, is worth it!