Before having my son Francis I did not foresee anything in particular for my future family. In fact I was possibly too wrapped up in not quite finishing deadlines with Uni work and getting caught up in the challenges of being a mature student with little to no direction.
When I found out I was pregnant with scamp I was over the moon. Although it was not part of the plan, we had managed to slip away from real life for a while and submerge into this pregnancy bubble. It was about this time I filled my thoughts with everything baby and very soon my future was mapped out in my mind with every fine detail planned in some sort of organised dream. The temptation to talk about babies was all too much at any occasion – I became my friends worst nightmare I am sure!
The first thing I imaged was the way it would feel to hold my baby for the first time, the warmth my heart would feel when our hands met and the sheer joy we would all feel at that very moment. I’m a dreamer, what can I say.
My expectations of delivery were judged on t.v shows I had seen. These were mostly tame, exposing women feeling empowered with their personal birth experiences. Happy smiley faces after they had just birthed their child, the blood was no big deal either because everyone was focused on the new life and the mother that had just blossomed as she nursed her new born with such ease.
Wonderful I thought as I watched another birth story. I couldn’t wait for my journey to begin.
Unfortunately my dreams were temporary, kidnapped too soon by my fast approaching reality. I liked my dream world it was far more happy. But the reality of my birth was so far from the picture I had painted in my mind. I felt deflated.
Luckily I accepted this quickly managing to put all my energy into living in the now capturing my babies first moments.
I was happy, petrified, in love and a little shocked all at once. The pain was leaving my body as if someone was kindly unburdening me allowing me to focus entirely on this time. For that I was grateful.
No details are needed as I learnt very soon after, that we all have our own experiences and each are so different. We go through similar journeys with paths that collide but not one story is exactly the same. We have a unique tale to tell and not all are pleasant like I imaged.
I am now almost 22 weeks pregnant with baby 2 – it was at this point with Francis that I was super excited with so much to think about and imagine. But this time round I feel like a wise old owl with a story to tell. I have walked this path only this time I have discovered it has a short cut. The short cut is my own reality and I have made it there already.
I have an open mind that is ready to take on the good bits and the bad bits. I am just bloody scared.
There is a safety in your dreams. Untouched. Unique and uncontrolled. Don’t let reality kidnap your dreams.