Week 1

Here we are. Week 1 and update number 1. I firstly want to give a huge thankyou to everyone who has donated so generously so far, it has warmed my heart.

Today is June 7 and was the first official run of my 18 week training plan leading into race day in October. We’ve got a long way to go, figuratively and literally and I hope you come along the ride with me, and stay the course.

I’m going to use these updates not to just share my experiences with training but to also share some of my story of why I’m crazy enough to want to do it.

So, the best place to start is the birth.
// “I didn’t expect to feel so upset that I didn’t get the birth I had envisioned” //
This was a quote from a woman featured on today’s episode of Survive and Thrive: PANDA’s monthly podcast for expecting and new parents. Unexpected birth experiences are very common. For me it is easy to pinpoint that as the beginning of my trauma.

They tell you that you’ll never feel love like that when you see your child for the first time. Not me. All I felt was fear, then relief. Immense relief. I was in shock, and there began my trauma.

My son was born at home in a planned homebirth, but not everything went to plan. Shoulder Dystocia. Words that have come with a lot of weight in our household before it ever happened with the delivery of our own son. Now even more so. I was expecting to birth my son myself, to catch him as midwives say, that was our plan. But things don’t always go to plan. I knew something was wrong when our ever calming and composed midwife looked me directly in the eye, stone faced, and said: “Damo. I’m going to get your baby out now, I promise.”

The next short period of time I’ll never forget, and I’ll never remember how long it went for, because it was all a blur. Jumping from position to position in an instant, using professionally crafted midwifery maneuvers, something clicked for these four women and they were all doing this without even having to speak. That afternoon there was over 50 years of combined midwifery experience congregated in the confined space of my bedroom. Between them all, my partner included who is herself a decade long successful midwife, it was an incredible sight to see.

I had no idea what was happening, so I wasn’t scared, yet.
// “Damo! call an ambulance, call an ambulance”// is the switch that flicked. This is where the fear set in. I fumbled around for what felt like an eternity looking for my phone and trying to press a touch screen becoming soaked in my own tears. While I was on the phone not knowing what to say, one of the midwives dislodged a shoulder, and forcibly pulled my son earthside while we all waited to see if he would cry.

Immense relief was the emotion that flooded me when I heard him cry. He made it out. But this wasn’t what we had envisioned. Far from it. I didn’t know how to process this.

THANK YOU if you read this far. As the weeks go on I’ll continue to tell my story. How my post natal depression developed. How I suffered in silence. How I found the help I needed.

Stay tuned.