Mili-Flyn turns 2 today (well yesterday since we had no electricity last night and I couldn’t post this blog entry)! For those of you that don’t know the tale of how this little Mouse got to be part of our lives, let me give you a quick briefing.
2010 was a bitter sweet year for me. It saw us settling in Cape-Town to an exciting year of work and news friends, it also however saw me losing my precious Pops. October and November are somewhat of a haze for me. December rolled on and I remember Evert being away with his annual ScooterThon trip and me literally getting home from work for that week, feeding the kids and heading off to bed. I put it down to it being run down, perhaps even slightly depressed. December rolls on with the usual festivities, jeans feeling slightly snug and the reminder that I had not had my monthly curse when the daily tab’s go into the RED zone.
Shock, horror. Off to the pharmacy for a home pregnancy test! Home we go and I decide to wait a day and then pee on the stick, it turns blue before I can even bring it up to eye-level. More shock, horror. Now the search for a gynaecologist *sigh*. After chatting to a few friends I settle on one that I am sure will be suitable only to find out I can only see him at the end of January. So we wait.
January 26 rolls on and off we go to the gynae. After some prodding, poking and scanning it is established that baby Ferreira is due 26 June and it will be a Miss Ferreira. Now that the confirmation has hit home (as if the fact that my jeans weren’t zipping closed wasn’t enough) I start preparing myself for this unexpected surprise. Kids are happy, husband is happy, Mom is still shocked.
Being 39 and onto pregnancy number 4 does not come without it’s problems. Gestational diabetes seemed to have joined into this surprise party. All in all things were the same as the other pregnancies, beside the fact I felt like a tiny elephant from the minute I shared the news of this baba with everyone. Tummy literally popped out!
Saturday morning, 14 May, 5:30am…. I wake up with a desperate urge to pee, which is not unusual when pregnant. I get to the loo and entry into an Austin Power type pee that takes forever. Head off to the kitchen and realise I am still dripping (sorry for the graphics). You would think the penny would drop for me here after this being the 4th pregnancy but I was induced on the previous 3 accounts so going into natural labour is a novelty for me. After making a cup of coffee and noticing I was standing in a puddle I thought it might be a plan to wake Ev up.
After waking Ev up and calling the hospital I realise that this is not the perfect day to deliver baby 4. Tayla has a hockey match in Somerset West she needs to get to and Ella has a birthday party to attend. Also a tiny footnote to be added here is that I prefer to be on my own when dealing with pain and being in labour. Half the reason is that Ev is not handy around the delivery room, he goes pale and gets very quiet and that sends me into stress mode.
I pack a bag and we head off to the hospital. I get Ev to drop me off and go and do all the Daddy duties. I get checked out and there are no signs of active labour, in fact I feel absolutely fine (besides the drip, drip situation). So I kick back, walk a little, chat a little and generally still believe I will be going home soon. After all Miss Ferreira is only due 26 June and this is still 6 weeks away. Around 2;30pm the gynae does a scan on me and a few checks (use your imagination here). I am told there are still no active signs of labour but due to my waters breaking they will induce labour tomorrow. Bummer! I get hold of Ev, fill him on the news and ask him to bring me a few more goodies.
Once I am back in the ward I decide a shower is definately in order. I end up missing Ev who has come to drop off my other stuff, as he has all the kids with him and they aren’t all allowed into the ward. So off he goes home to make dinner for the kids and visit later, with the idea that tomorrow is the day. While showering I am suddenly greeted with the all to familiar pangs of pain. Not taking their time at all, full on pain, full on labour. I waddle out the shower, head to my room, ring the bell. A nurse strolls in and I inform her that I need to get to the labour ward as this baby is not waiting for anyone. She clearly thinks I am overacting and I as fine less then half an hour ago and chatting to her about all kinds of things. Eventually I have to use my cross voice (reserved for very special occasions) and tell her to get me the hell to the labour ward as this was 4th time around and I knew what I was talking about.
Onto the bed I get and off I get wheeled. Arrive at the labour ward, midwife tries to make small talk, says she will call gynae and husband, I tell her no time, she checks, says No TIME, I move onto very thin labour bed and start pushing! Enter into the world Miss Mili-Flyn Ferreira, at 5:30pm, Saturday 14 May 2011.
Clearly no time to call Dad. So thanks to technology and the wonders of BBM the below photo was sent to Dad, which he received while taking a chicken out the oven.
So that is how Miss Mili-Flyn entered the world. Doing things in her own fashion from the start.