There’s not a mother alive in this modern age that hasn’t shared her birth story with her nearest and dearest. In fact I’m pretty sure a lot of us have shared it with complete strangers from time to time. These stories are our right’s of passage into motherhood and we recite them like the folklore of Irish history. I know I tend to flesh mine out and I could give the Children of Lir a run for their money.
I will tell each birth story in turn but I’m going to start with my most recent birth just because I can remember it with greater ease. I can say with conviction that I am finished having children so I can reminisce fondly, safe in the knowledge that I will never have to go through it again.
This time two years ago I was waiting patiently for the birth of my third child. Having split with my partner I had to return home to my mother and it was a stressful time to say the least. Moving back home is hard regardless of the circumstances but I arrived not only with sacks of clothes but with two young boys and a bun in the oven (a pink bun by the way but ssssssshhhhhhh you’ll ruin the end of the story). Not ones to dwell on the negative we just got on with things and tried to look forward to the new arrival as best we could. Continue reading “Birth Story Numero Trois”