Dear Baby Girl

Today they want to evict you from your nice cosy womb, we’re not ready for this, I’m not ready, and I know you’re not ready.

So we may be ready on the outside in the physical world, as I lay here at 3 am writing this, I have your Moses basket set up next to me and three bags ready packed at the end of the bed.

But we’re not ready to end our inner physical journey together yet.

There’s just something not right with them wanting you to come out right now at 38 weeks before you’re ready to do so. They’re worried about your growth. But that’s them, not me. What do I think? I think you’re growing just perfectly and I liked the line you were carving for yourself on my growth chart.

I knew the moment I saw that you had dropped slightly off that line exactly what the consultant was going to say. The moment the sonographer had shown me what she had plotted, I was in tears. Which has pretty much been happening ever since. I even tried to stay strong in the consultant’s room but still the tears flow. Us women and our hormones, they have a lot to answer for.

Of course, she said exactly what I knew was going to be said and just like a couple of weeks before at the last growth scan; she started with the opening lines of ‘you’re not going to like what I have to say’. Which of course was that she wanted me to go into hospital ASAP, to be induced and to get you out of me right now. Yeah, apparently some ‘guidelines’ say you’re better out than in. I felt like throwing my pregnancy notes at her head when she muttered that very word ‘guidelines’.

She wanted to sweep me there and then to try and get things moving, I declined. Just like I declined the induction and just as I went against her advice to continue my homebirth plans. I want to trust my body instead to do what nature best intended it to do. It’s produced two healthy babies before, why shouldn’t it do so this time?

There is nothing whatsoever wrong with either of us in any way. All of our stats are perfect. I’m healthy, and you are healthy. The only thing they don’t like is that you’re not bouncing around on some lines.

Lines which you’re plotted on based on some machines working outs. Those growth scans you never stay still for, my wiggly bum, already as bad as your older brother. He just can’t stay still longer than a few minutes either. I swear yesterday’s one where which got them huffing & puffing was done by someone who was rushing. It certainly all felt rushed and knowing that they were busy, it just doesn’t scream of accuracy to me. One of the reasons I bought up when asked why I was going against them, was about these scans and how they can never be accurate. I don’t think she liked me saying that, especially when I hinted that the scan seemed rushed, I was told about how the sonographer was a professional, doing it for a while etc.. Etc.. Yeah because none of us has ever rushed our jobs before.

Every appointment I’ve come away from them feeling so very deflated. That was happening again but on a completely different level. So far I’ve been feeling like a naughty little school girl for going against them, this time around I felt like an actual criminal committing some illegal act. What kinda way is that to feel? There’s only so much I can stand before I’m broken.

Which will be the first lesson I teach you as you grow up, never back down. You want something? Then you reach for it baby girl of mine, you already have my stubborn streak and I know it will cause me grief over the years but then I know I’m just going to look into your eyes and see me staring straight back at me. Knowing that I’m carrying you right now and knowing that you might go on yourself to carry children, our grandchildren is the most magical of thoughts. It does take becoming a parent to understand what being a parent truly is all about.

Once we had got home and after a tearful txt to our midwife Louise, we had her coming straight out to visit us. We like Louise, she was the midwife who delivered Dylan at home almost two years ago. So she does feel like a huge part of our lives. Again I knew what she would say and knew she would want to go along with the consultant. I gave in. Through teary eyes, I listened as she booked me for an induction on the delivery suite and gave me a rather delightful sweep. If you’re reading this as a teenager, I urge you to google ‘sweeps’ I’ll never have to give you ‘the talk’ just yet as hopefully that will horrify you enough to stay away from boys.

She said I was favourable and that she could have easily broken my waters. So here’s hoping no matter what happens that that means it will happen quickly. Well here’s hoping anyway! Oli was 5 hours, and Dylan was 4 hours of labour. If there’s one thing I can pass on to you, I hope it’s my short-ish labours.

I want to fight our corner, as long as your movements are all well I should keep you in there until you’re ready to come out in your own time. We were doing ok weren’t we just the two of us, well it was just the other day you had me craving watermelon, and just recently I’ve had the delights of experiencing braxton hicks for the first time.

I’m sorry baby girl that I wasn’t strong enough to stand my ground. I feel so deflated and broken right now. And it’s not even about my plans to have you at home, yes I’m mourning that in such a strong way and right now I’ve not even wrapped myself around the concept of this change of plan with a hospital birth. I’m hoping that will suddenly click over breakfast once I get up. It’s the fact they’re going to make you come before either of us are ready, it just feels so unnatural. Maybe if that didn’t feel so wrong then maybe I could be joyous about the fact I’m going to be holding you in my arms finally. Don’t take it personally any of this. I do look forward to the day we can sit and read back through our pregnancy diary together.

Though having either a February or March birth date is all in your corner right now. It would be nice for you to come tomorrow as soon as they attempt to kick things off, but you have to admit a 1st March birth date is rather memorable.

Your Daddy is led next to me snoring his head off; I should try joining him, He’s not quite sure what to do with himself, bless him. Think he sees me as some ticking bomb, the wrong words and I’m a crying mess. He mentioned the words ‘being induced tomorrow” to someone at the supermarket this evening; I flipped out on him.

Well, I’ve got to the end of this blog post and still nothing, part of me wants to run downstairs and blow up the gymball we bought yesterday and bounce for England while sipping at a raspberry tea. But I know that would be rather silly right now, see I do have a sensible head baby girl. Let’s hope you agree in 13 years time.

I was hoping you would make a sudden appearance tonight, at home. That all would be ok and that you came out the most perfect of weights, so we could snuggle up in bed together and face this world together as mother & daughter. That’s not meant to be, but of course, it isn’t, you’re more than happy where you are right now, and that’s where you’re meant to be.

I love you so much baby girl.

Little sister to Oli & Dylan.

My Buffy Bump.

My Daughter.


Mummy x