The last two weeks have been a blur to say the least. I keep looking at the calendar thinking this little person should still be inside, and yet here we are- navigating newborn life again with coffee in one hand, the other warding off the toddler and his non gentle hands, and very little sleep in between.
Two weeks before she arrived I was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, so monitoring increased and everything became a “let’s see how long we can stretch this” type situation. By 34 weeks I’d already been put on light duties, trying to get past the point Rudy arrived, and then even more so once the preeclampsia kicked in to keep my blood pressure under control. I also now know what a good blood pressure reading is without having to remind myself with the help of google- small mercies.
Then on the Sunday night, after “accidentally” running after the dog who was chasing the chooks (because motherhood and animal husbandry is nothing if not glamorous), I started to feel like my waters had broken around 9pm. I wasn’t convinced at first, but something didn’t feel right, so I called the hospital. I had hoped they would say wait until your appointment tomorrow morning.. but they told me to come in for monitoring, so I drove myself in at 11pm while the boys stayed asleep at home. Mum happened to be in Perth for my sister’s birthday, so I picked her up on the way, still in denial I was in labour.
I spent the car ride complaining about a sore back and crampy pain, and Mum said she thought I was having contractions. I told her she was being dramatic and that it was just sore muscles from chasing chooks. She then said she’d been timing them, and suddenly it all made more sense- I really shouldn’t have run after that fucking chook.
Once I was hooked up to the monitors, the midwife asked how fast my husband could get there. One quick phone call later, Mum and Ricky swapped so the toddler could keep sleeping, and what is normally a 40-minute drive took Ricky closer to 25… He walked in as they were preparing to put in the spinal for the cesarean and we were reliving our first borns birth all over again.
Raya arrived shortly after and was taken straight to NICU. I saw her briefly over the sheet, but there was no photo, no cuddle, and no moment where time stopped and everything clicked into place like you imagine. You suddenly go from being heavily pregnant to lying in recovery with an empty belly while your baby is somewhere else being supported, and your brain just needs a minute to catch up.
Once I was back from recovery, my health took a little tumble. My blood pressure was rather high and a medical emergency was called. My room suddenly filled with the ICU team telling me “not to panic” but if we can’t lower your blood pressure soon you’ll be going to ICU. I just felt sweaty and shaky and didn’t really realise the magnitude of the situation until the nurses a few days later kept saying- “gee you’re looking well after we saw you last on Monday, what a morning that was”. So I really feel for those who get preeclampsia earlier in their pregnancy and have complications during birth- it wasn’t a nice feeling at all.
I met our baby properly 12 hours later in NICU, and seeing her on CPAP was the moment that finally caught me off guard. I’d stayed calm through labour and surgery, but that sight brought back a lot of memories from Rudy’s early arrival. I’d been quietly proud of myself for getting past 34 weeks and genuinely believed that even at 37 weeks she wouldn’t need breathing support, so it took me a moment to gather myself after apologising to the nurses for crying and realising what we might be up against for the second time.
The doctors reassured me that this NICU stay would likely be shorter, and we held onto that with all the energy we had left after almost 40 hours without sleep. All we wanted was for her to be strong enough to join us on the ward before I was discharged, and she did exactly that. She made it up to our room before the end of the week, which felt healing in a way I didn’t expect.
I was able to breastfeed without a shield, and she has been ticking boxes that our first found really difficult at the same age. It has been emotional, tiring, and strangely comforting- a reminder that every baby writes their own story, even if the beginning feels familiar.
We’re now settling into the newborn haze again, unpredictable nights, lots of baby holding and wearing, and the constant juggle of caring for a toddler who has suddenly discovered very big feelings. I’ve definitely had a few moments of mum-guilt, wondering if I’ve disrupted Rudy’s whole world, but I know deep down that one day he won’t remember life without her and their bond will make this stage feel far away.
I’m sure there will be more challenges to come and many more tears, but I’m comforted by the fact I have built a like minded community and my expectations of early motherhood are far lower than the first time.
Thank you for reading and being part of this chapter with us 🤎
If you’ve had a preterm birth, NICU stay or postpartum experience and would like to share, you can submit your story to the Beige Mum Community- anonymously or with your name. You never know who your words might help.