On Thursday, this cute little poppet will be nine weeks old! Unbelievable.

It's probably been the hardest nine weeks that I've been through for a long long time. Only now are we emerging from the haze of it all, and wondering what hit us. Haha. We obviously had it way too good with the past few post-births, and just assumed it would be that easy this time around too. Not so, my friend, not so! Bethie has been one of a kind, right from the beginning of the pregnancy.

When I was newly pregnant with Beth, I knew that I wanted a home-birth. I'd had that with my previous two births, and it just seemed the right way to go. I asked around and did alot of research, and came across the surprising fact that there were no homebirth midwives in Rocky. Infact, there were none within 5 hours of us! It was quite a shock, since they are plenty in abundance in New Zealand! I had the privilege of having the most wonderful midwife for Christian and Rachel's births. She was so gentle and kind, and took such good care of me, all the while instilling in me the confidence for what I was going to end up doing in Australia. I really was blessed beyond measure with her, and the Lord used her so greatly in my life.

So. There were no midwives over here, except the ones at the hospital. Who were lovely, but oh so different from what I was used to. I had my first visit with a doctor (you have to go to the doctors first (says the Aussies) who will confirm you are pregnant, and will send you a referral to the hospital). Well. This doctor didn't believe I was pregnant. She made me do a urine test, because she didn't think I knew what I was talking about. *ahem*. And I had all four kiddies with me at the time too. Obviously I knew what I was talking about. So I did the test, and suuuurprise, I was pregnant. She read the result and came hesitantly up to me. 

 "I'm afraid it's bad news"

My heart sank. I thought I'd lost the baby.

"You're pregnant".

You didn't quite know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh in relief at the sheer joy of expecting another baby in our family, or cry at the fact that she thought it was awful.

She then grudgingly sent my referral to the hospital. Not without booking me in for a "dating" scan, because I couldn't possibly be 15 weeks along. Who am I?! A doctor?! No no no, must go for the scan.

Turns out I was right. Hah!

Of course, then all the floods and drama happened, so I didn't get to see a midwife till I was about 23 weeks along. Of course, they freaked because I hadn't yet done another scan to make sure Bubby had two arms, two legs, a skull, and a heart.

So again I got to say hello to my baby via a tv screen. She was pretty unfazed by the whole event, but she posed for a picture and showed all the necessary bits to the tv man.

I told myself that that would be my last scan. I didn't even want to have one, but was playing "good girl" for the professionals, and hoping it would set me in good steed for future events.

So the pregnancy progressed, and my tummy grew. Slowly. I went to all my appointments with the hospital midwives, but also spent alot of time studying what the Australians call "freebirth". That is, birthing on your own, without professional help. I brought many books and studied them, learning how to cope with and manage many different complications that a birth can possibly have. Such as shoulder dystocia, a slow to start breathing baby, hemmoraging, "slow progress" in dilating (flunked that one though. Never even looked at a clock! haha), a prolapsed cord, and so on. I talked James' ear off each night, and made sure he knew exactly what to do when/if any complications occurred.

Now, before anyone freaks out... we weren't going to be silly about this. If something happed outside of our comfort zone, then we would have been straight up to the hospital (We live a five minute drive away). No doubt about it. We just wanted to be prepared. And, in saying this, I think every expecting couple should study that kind of stuff. Many many babies are born in the car, or unexpectedly at home without a midwife, and you never know what kind of knowledge you'll need to manage it. I just happened to remember that when I get to serious "Yup, this is labour" stuff, then it's all on, and there is no moving me. There was no way on God's green earth that James was going to get me down all those stairs and into a car, while I was contracting...and then up on a hard bed at the hospital with a moniter on. Nah ah. No way. I'm a spoilt girl, used to my candles, soft music, and warm pool. ;-)

So, my due date came. And went. The days dragged on and on, and still no sign of baby. At about day...ohhhh, what was it? Day 14? Anyway, many many days over my due date, and stink!! my lovely support/babysitter had to go home. Boo! Now we were really on our own. Fervent prayers were going up in abundance that labour would happen at night time and that the kids would sleep through it all. We didn't have a babysitter! If I had to go to hospital for any reason, then they were all coming with us! haha. I prayed over and over again that labour would start early evening nice'n'easy, get intense after the kiddies were in bed and fast asleep, and deliver in time to have a good nights sleep. Some people thought I was asking too much (Hi Al!), but the Lord knew. And He knew the desires of my heart. He was holding me and Beth in His hands, and He made what happened into the most wonderful birth ever. It takes my breath away thinking about it. Now, I can hear you laughing saying "Yeah, I'll bet it took your breath away!", but seriously... the Lord did a wonderful work that night, and I just look back in awe at the gift of labour that He gave me.

The morning of the 16th of July, I went up to the hospital for my daily hear-moniter checky-thingy for Beth. They hooked me up and left me for half an hour, tracing her heart beat. Sound relaxing? It would have been, if I didn't have to entertain four little children (yup, I'd given Jimmy the day off school, just for kicks) whilst being strapped to a bed. We sang every Sunday School song we knew, and laughed ourselves silly for the entire 30 minutes. I was quite chipper that morning, actually! After getting my stern warning from the midwife to have the baby that night, (as I had to meet with the doctors the next morning to get an induction date...which I was going to refuse, and then get in a whole lotta trouble...), I took the kiddies to the park! Isn't that what most 43week pregnant women do?! Haha. We had a lovely morning at the park. The sun was shining, and I was just walking around rubbing my belly and talking to little Beth. I felt so at peace, it was incredible! I finally packed the kiddies back into the car, and headed for home.

And then I lost my plug.

... to be continued.