Thursday 20 August 2015

Date Night: Our First Night Without Baby

"You have to make time for 'you' and remember you were a married couple first."

The wise words of my Mum.

Of course she is absolutely right, but at six weeks after giving birth to my baby, this just didn't seem natural at all. However, I knew I needed to get out of the house and Granny was desperate for some alone time with her 'wee angel.'

Pregnancy was an incredible experience for me. Despite the morning sickness, the painful stretch marks covering about 99.9% of my body and the 'fanny daggers' (those uncomfortable shooting pains down below from baby sitting on a nerve. Her head was so low in my pelvis from 34 weeks I actually sometimes wondered if I'd go to the toilet and find a leg hanging out. Googled it: not possible), I will always look back on those nine months fondly.

Crazy 41-weeks pregnant lady building flat pack furniture in our new house the day before induction.


I spent almost ten months knowing I was never alone. I had a little heart beating inside me, a tiny human that could already recognise my voice and would kick whenever I sang 'My Girl' or played her 'Aqueous Transmission' by Incubus. It  was a constant comfort knowing she was there and I would talk to her all the time. I even had a book by Dr. Seuss that was specifically written to be read to bump: "Oh Baby, the Places You'll Go- A Book to be Read in Utero." Kris read it to her almost every night.

But as much of a blessing and miracle as pregnancy was, when I reached 42 weeks, I was fed up of feeling like Sigourney effing Weaver in 'Alien' and wanted my little ET out of me. The kicks stopped being cute when I could see actual human toes under my skin. But she wasn't coming out of there fast- she was quite happy on her little All Inclusive Babymoon- food and drink on tap. Why would she want to come out? So I ended up stuck in hospital for a week of inductions. I tell you what- my foof has never seen so much action; the world and it's cousin were down there having a good old prod and poke at one point or another. I wouldn't be surprised if the caretaker had popped in for a nosey. It was like some really shit orgy.

The family have their last rub of the bump before the fourth and final induction.

Four days, four inductions and fifty million internals later, my girl arrived in all her beautiful ginger glory. The moment I saw her face, I said: "Of course- that's what you look like, little one!" (shortly followed by asking the registrar, Dr Will, if I could have sushi again now, explaining the uncanny similarities between my placenta and rare steak and asking him on a scale of one to ten how gross my fanny looked. Gas & Air- I love you.)

I felt like I'd known her face my whole life. 

Granny holding her first born grandchild minutes after she was born.

Freya Ivy Rose

Suddenly I had my body back. I forgot how it felt to bend in the middle and nearly rejoiced when I realised I could lean down and put some socks on. Oh and lying on my front in bed- the most blissful feeling in the world. But that moment of freedom wasn't to last-  Freya still totally owned my ass. I was a walking milk bar- every hour was happy hour and my little cluster feeding guzzler just couldn't get enough of the stuff. A total milk drunk. (It does taste amazing though, like the milk leftover at the bottom of a bowl of Frosties. So I get it.) 

Six weeks passed by and our friend's band 'Radar Test Target' were playing a gig at a local venue where there would also be a street food festival going on just around the corner. This was the perfect opportunity to get out and have a break- have some couple time. But the day arrived and the feeling of excitement I had been anticipating didn't seem to happen. The bond between Freya and I after spending the last eleven months together was so strong that being apart from her felt unnatural.
              I had spent the days leading up to the event pumping milk ready for my night out. I felt so sorry for Kris- there really is nothing sexy about watching your wife with an electric pump fixed to her udders and being milked like a cow. [As an aside it really annoyed me that he wouldn't try it- so you'll drink milk from a cows tit but not from your wife? Also, who actually figured out you could even drink it? *picture in head of prehistoric man lying underneath a cow and milking it straight into his mouth for the first time and thinking, 'Yeah, it's good that.'* I majorly digress.]

The hours before we went out I was desperate to get some more milk pumped just in case, but nothing seemed to be happening. The stress and anxiety of leaving her had clearly affected my milk supply and even Freya was picking up on my nerves and getting really naggy. My outfit didn't even occur to me until an hour before leaving when I realised I had nothing that would fit, resulting in my whole wardrobe on the floor and me sitting in a nest of maternity wear and size 40 clothes covered in baby sick absolutely sobbing.

It didn't help that earlier that day I had gone to get my hair cut so that I looked like some kind of super hot MILF on my first night out in months. I had internal slo-mo montages of me walking into the pub, hair blowing in the wind a la Beyonce, passers by totally awe-struck by how flipping fantastic this brand new mum looked.  Not to mention skinny. But the really lovely stylist made a major mistake and cut the front of my long hair into a bob on one side. I looked like some kind of asymmetric German lesbian from the 80's- mullets weren't sexy then and they aren't sexy now. So that was the shitty cherry on the shitty cake. Oh and then it rained.

At this point, the succession of disasters just became laughable and a feeling of SOD IT washed over me. I might be wearing a maternity top with sick on the sleeve cleverly concealed by my leather jacket (which has either shrunk in the wash or I've also put on weight on my shoulders), but I was going to go on this night out and bloody enjoy it of it killed me.  I ran out the door, making no eye contact with baby and we made our way, in the rain, into town. I absolutely felt like I'd left a part of me at home and unfortunately it wasn't my spare tyres of fat arse. It was like I couldn't get enough air in my lungs.

It was amazing to see all our friends. For the first time in six weeks I felt like young fun me again.  I'd even expressed enough milk that I could have four whole shandies, which went straight to my head after not drinking for over twelve months. I was a veritable party animal. 
At the start of the night, we bumped into another friend who had a baby not long before me. As I stood there chatting to her, her gorgeous baby started to cry in her pram and that oh-too familiar feeling of pins and needles covered my body. Total panic. Where is my baby and how could I have left her? But thankfully the feeling lasted for seconds and once that moment had passed, I realised that my boobs were indeed leaking. The sound of baby had actually made me leak milk- they weren't lying, it's a real thing. In true Holly style, I made a point of telling everyone that was in hearing range of this fact. In my head that meant I couldn't get embarrassed, not if I told them

The night was great and despite constantly checking my phone, it felt so good to watch the band play, dance with friends and catch up on what I'd been missing- which turned out to be, well, not much. Our social scene kind of carried on as it was whilst I was carrying a baby and being torn in two.  But the peak of night out piss-take was not long before we left. My boobs were at bursting point because I hadn't fed her for five hours and it was agonising; cut to me in the ladies bathroom, milking myself into the toilets. What have I become? The glamour was overwhelming.

The beautiful walk home along the River Severn.

At ten o'clock, I'd had just about enough of being the old me. I wanted my girl and was ready to go home. We left, letting everyone know that we 'had to get back to the baby'- I'm now that person on a night out. How times have changed. We walked home along the river and stopped to pick up a pizza en route just like the old days (only this one ended up in my mouth and not as a veggie supreme pillow and matching duvet. Oh those good old drunken days.) I burst through the front door to find my Mum gazing adoringly at our sleeping baby. She hadn't even noticed I'd gone.


We didn't venture out again for another ten weeks when we celebrated our three year wedding anniversary. We went for beautiful food at our friend's restaurant, Momonoki, and wandered around the town having drinks and enjoying each others company. At one point we realised that for about four hours, we hadn't uttered the words 'poo' or 'nappy.' It felt so good to be Kris and Holly the couple for a night.

Gorgeous anniversary food at 'Momonoki'

Date Night: celebrating three years of marriage.

So my wise Mum was right- couple time really is important. Whether it's once a month or every other month, remember your little human was born out of love and that is still a priority; happy parents means a happy baby. The wonderful thing about coming home now is that our little girl is there and the main challenge is not waking her up just to cuddle her cute little face off.

Mama La Rouge tips for venturing out for the first time after giving birth to your baby:

  • Make sure you feel ready to go out. It's quite an intense feeling of separation and you need to be certain you're ready for that. I know women that were totally ready just a month or so in and other's who couldn't leave their child until way after their first birthday. Both are just fine.
  • If you're breast feeding, make sure you start pumping a good few days in advance and freeze it/store in the fridge for up to five days. Don't make my mistake of leaving it until the last minute; the pressure to produce could be counter productive.
  • Depending on how long you are out for, be prepared that you may fill up with milk to bursting point. You may want to take a hand pump or hand express, especially in the early days.
  • Take it at your own pace- don't be pressured into staying out longer than you want to. This is a big step you're taking and you should feel proud of yourself for getting out there. Baby steps.
  • Get your OH to give you some pamper time. Have a bath, do your nails, spend time getting ready and picking out an outfit. You may feel self conscious wearing something you haven't for a year, but trust me you are rocking it. You just pushed out an entire person; you'd look like a rock star in a bin liner. 

2 comments:

  1. This is brilliant! I didn't do this for ages! Too long probably! Probably still don't! But like you I had the bursting boob issues! And it was just too painful! Xx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh those milking moments! The sound of the pump and the wincing looks from husband as your nip rivals the limbs of Stretch Armstrong! This made me giggle Holly, seems like ages ago for me now but you never forget! Xx

    ReplyDelete