Monday, July 27, 2009
It was the 22nd of July in 1993 when I experienced the most excruciating lower back pain. I looked like some errant spider: all abdomen and legs. My mother assured me it was the first signs of labour. Sure enough at midnight, I experienced my first contraction: a sensation not to dissimilar to having your insides ripped out with a red hot poker. I woke my husband to inform him of the necessity to leg it to the hospital. He grunted something like ‘can’t it wait?’ to which I responded viciously with my very best Linda Blair impersonation ‘no it bloody well can’t!’ and the next thing you know I was whisked away and promptly ensconced in a birthing suite at the Mater Mother’s. It was 3am. Nothing ever prepares a first time mother for when her waters break. A flood of amniotic fluid literally douses all within a five metre radius. I rejected the idea of an epidural and instead opted for pethidine and nitrous. Bad move. The pain was so severe I clung to that nitrous mask with all my might and sucked enough of it to warrant blacking out. Apparently I delivered several deft side-piercing kicks to the midwife who was not at all impressed with me when I came to. Like most mothers I’ve spoken to I remember bellowing several times ‘would you get this damned thing out of me!!!’ That ‘damned thing’ was my girl Samantha Jade who turned sixteen last Thursday. I held a party for her last weekend and it was so good to see my surly girl finally come out of her shell, acting gracious and enjoying herself. She invited a few girlfriends and also present were a family who are friendly with my housemate and happen to have three teenaged children. They had a rogue game of croquet on the lawn, watched scary movies, stalked each other in the dark and tossed all matter of flammable materials into the open fire. So much better than watching your kid’s arm permanently attached to a phone keypad and game console. The evening ended with lap-dancing. Yup. You read that right. Daniel (sixteen, sober and sinewy) stripped down to his singlet (in front of his cacking parents!) and proceeded to give me (shriveled up forty year old!) and my daughter a bit of a harmless touch-up. To think I had to wait forty years for that and Sammy’s lap is defiled at sixteen. So not fair!