My eldest daughter is 10!

Ten. Oh. My. God.

Missy now 10 had her birthday a few days ago, but we’ve been a little bit in crisis mode with my fiance’s health issues, so Missy 10′s birth story is a little late…unlike her actual birth, which was rather on the early side.

Unfortunately I’m unable to share baby photos of Missy 10, unlike my two younger children. I’m pretty sure digital cameras hadn’t been invented just yet, so all those photos were taken on an old-fashioned camera, and because we got rid of our scanner… well, you get the idea.

Anyway, the story! I fell pregnant very quickly and easily with Missy 10, within 3 months of trying. I was 26 years old.

My fiance (then boyfriend) and I were planning to go out for dinner on Valentine’s Day, and the weekend before we went shopping for an outfit for me. I became quickly frustrated to find that everything I tried on that would’ve usually suited my slender frame, made me look decidedly thick-waisted. I ended up opting for a dress more on the stretchy side. We stopped for lunch, and I demanded a large bucket of KFC’s potato and gravy. You know, the one that’s meant to serve an entire family? Well, I greedily scarfed down the lot myself!

Fast forward to Valentine’s Day: I got a phone call that afternoon from my father, letting me know that my brother’s wife had just announced their pregnancy. I excitedly told my boss, and she said, ‘oh, you’ll be next!’ I laughed and raced home from work. I was late for our dinner!

Dinner that evening was at the Novotel at Brighton, and was a buffet style set-up. For the most part, I enjoyed it, except for one mystery white meat in particular. I thought it looked like chicken, but on eating it, found it tasted disturbingly like fish. I asked my (now) fiance if he thought it was fish or chicken. (I hope this isn’t making me sound like Jessica Simpson…) He looked at it, and said it was chicken. I forced him to taste it.

He did. ‘It’s chicken, sweety’. I demanded to speak to the staff, who also assured me the meat was chicken. ‘Then why the hell does it taste like fish?’ I replied testily.

The following weekend, I was feeling very delicate and teary. I was due that day, and began howling uncontrollably to my fiance: ‘why can’t I get pregnant? This is really bad PMS!’ And although I wasn’t convinced I’d be pregnant anytime soon, my fiance and I decided to buy a test, because I was so upset and hormonal, and needed something.

As soon as I’d finished setting up the test, the positive result rapidly came up before my disbelieving eyes. When my fiance heard the news, he put his arms around me and said, ‘your body is going to have a history now, and it’s a history I helped to create’. This of course made my bottom lip wobble for the umpteenth time that day.

Being pregnant for the first time, was so exciting and new to me. I enjoyed the morning sickness, the cravings, the tiredness, with all the zeal of a sadist. I went berserk buying baby things and maternity clothes yonks before I needed to. It was a very fun and carefree time.

Then on the exact day I hit three months into the pregnancy, I had a fall, and my waters broke. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew something was up, so I went straight to the nearest doctor. She casually told me, ‘Oh, it means you’re losing the baby. Or if it does survive, you shouldn’t be having it.’ She told me to go to the hospital, which was a 5-10 minute walk.

I sobbed my heart out during the entire walk, and tried to convince myself that I was going to have to accept that this was over and try to be ok with it. I knew deep down in my heart, that I couldn’t accept that, it just felt to me that this child was meant to be.

I reached the emergency ward, by now my dress was covered in blood all over the bottom half of it. The nurses kept asking me if I had any pain. I didn’t. One hinted to me, ‘usually when women miscarry, they are in a lot of pain’. I was sent to take a urine test, and as I entered the restroom to do so, I caught a glimpse in the mirror. My face was glowing, beaming almost, back at me. I don’t remember any other time in my life where I looked so healthy. Did I dare let myself see this as a sign?

I did. I was told by the end of the examination that I appeared to still be pregnant. Of course, they would bring me back for an ultrasound to check my baby in a few days. I was told to rest until my bleeding issues subsided. I was also told not to exert myself too much during the rest of the pregnancy, but I was fine to keep working.

I cannot describe the relief I felt to see my beautiful child on the ultrasound screen! She was bouncing all around in there as if there’d never been anything wrong. So, I spent the rest of my pregnancy working and trying to get rest when I could, and I did lots of shopping! I quit the bowling team I was on with my fiance and took things easy.

When I reached 8 months into my pregnancy, I was sure the baby’s head was engaged. Everyone else who’d had babies before told me I was dreaming and it was impossible. I got checked out by the doctor, and sure enough, it was engaged. I’d now left work and my fiance and I took a quick break in our hometown for the weekend. Thankfully, my fiance’s mum took some photos of my pregnant belly whilst we still had the chance!

I had a hairdresser’s appointment in this town (my mum’s shout) on the Monday, but we decided to head back to Sydney, then we’d take a second trip just for that. Except…

…on Monday morning, I rolled over in bed and my waters broke again! I told my mum that I wouldn’t be coming, because we had to go to hospital just to check if anything was wrong. I was sure it was nothing, and no, I wasn’t having the baby yet, because I was only 8 months along, right?

Wrong. I had no idea at home that my waters had broken, and once the staff found out, I was to stay and be induced. After a 12-hour labour, my work was done. We weren’t allowed near our baby girl at first, because the hospital staff were attending to her, but as they left to take her to the special care nursery, one nurse gave us a glimpse of her sweet face over her shoulder.

She was so precious. Her lips were pursed in surprise, and I ached to hold her. After I showered, the nurses let my fiance and I go meet her in her humidicrib. We were allowed to touch her, but couldn’t yet hold her. After I’d had a long nap, a nurse woke me to give me a cuddle of our new little girl. She was so pretty, and still had the cute pursed lips!

Now she is ten years old, and showing no evidence of ever having been an underweight, little premmy baby. She’s pretty, smart and funny, and has always brought a world of joy into our lives. Happy birthday, princess! We love you, and we are more amazed by everything about you with every passing year.