This blog has sat in my drafts for a good long time. As we’re now 2 years since night 2 and day 3, I think it is high time I shared it!

So after writing all about the beautiful day Sophia was born, and how wonderful it was, and how I never thought I’d be unhappy again, I have to tell you… it didn’t last.

We spent the day after she was born watching the ward around us slowly fill up with Mums, babies, their partners, their parents and visitors and when the midwife asked me if I wanted to have another night in hospital or go home, I opted to go home. The hospital midwife assured me that our community midwife would be with us in the morning, so I thought ‘why not, let’s get home and crack on!’ I don’t think it was a mistake as such, but if we’d have chosen to stay in hospital for the infamous night 2 and day 3, we would have had a very different experience.

But as it was, we arrived home at 8pm the day after Sophia was born. I showed her around the house and took her to the nursery to get her ready for bed. I don’t know exactly what happened when from then on in, but I do know that I got less than two hours sleep and Nathan got less than three.

Apparently, babies usually have a good first night because they’re so tired from birth and the sensory onslaught that is entering the world. But during night two they cluster feed and barely sleep. That was certainly our experience. This, combined with the fact that we had no idea what we were doing, meant that it was a pretty rough few hours overnight.

At one point, I took Sophia downstairs because she was crying so much. To avoid the risk of tripping with her on the stairs, I turned all the lights on. I didn’t consider that this would wake her up even more, but it did.

At another point, Sophia just wouldn’t be put down and I needed a wee, so I decided to take her into the toilet with me. The light is very bright in there. I thought she would hate it and that she might decide she wanted to sleep after being under the bright light. Oh no, not so. Sophia looked scathingly around the loo as if to say ‘what do you call this? Why isn’t there even a window in here? And why is the toilet so far away from the bathroom?’ I agree, but though Sophia, please, go to sleep!

The next morning, it being Monday, we wandered over to St Giles first thing to give thanks for our new bundle and to say hello to Nathan’s team. The curate and wardens, I seem to remember. I look back and think how strange it was that we took her to church before she’d even met her grandparents.

When we got home, the infamous day three blues were starting to kick in for me and I have never known anything like it. It was like going through the whole of puberty in one morning! I’d had a text from our community midwife to say that she would be coming on Thursday, not today (Monday), and I just sobbed. Feeding was hurting, I felt sore from the op, I had gone from having morphine to paracetamol in the space of 18 hours and I felt horrendous.

Nathan came with the phone and said ‘call the maternity ward at Chester, they said you can talk to them any time’. ‘But… I… can’t… speak’ I spluttered between sobs.

We had already invited our family over that afternoon, and at one point I called my Dad to see if they had set off yet. In the course of the conversation, Dad asked if I was alright. ‘No!’ I said as I started crying again. Poor Dad, being 100 miles away and me just losing it like that.

Nathan stood on watching, looking helpless. We had a conversation along these lines:

Me: ‘If I never feel any better than this ever again, I don’t have to go back to work, do I?’

Nathan: ‘Poppy, you will feel better than this again’.

Me: ‘But if I never feel better again?!’

Nathan: ‘Then no, you don’t have to go back to work’.

At some point our community midwife texted to say that she would be coming that day after all. I was so relieved I cried. Again.

Shortly afterwards, Polly, Martin and Daniel arrived and as Sophia was having a cuddle with Martin, he said ‘oh, I think she wants Mummy’. I was dreading her next feed already and so I started to try to feed her, tears in my eyes and wincing. ‘Boys, go and help Nathan in the kitchen please’ said Polly. She got me the privacy I needed, asked if she could help and she showed me a couple of other positions to try. I will always be so grateful for that.

At some point Carol, our community midwife, came. She was as patient and understanding as ever, focusing on me and Soph and trying to help me get a better latch. It still hurt. She promised to come back soon and said that my milk hadn’t come in yet, but it would do. 

By 5pm, Sophia had met all 4 grandparents; Granny, Bubba, Nanny and Grandad. She had also had cuddles with Uncle Dan and Aunty Tiz and Bingley dog was very interested in her!

I had patiently waited for the baby to be born to try out the pram. We had set it all up but we hadn’t wheeled it outside at all and the wheels were all shiny and black. We went for a walk, a very little walk given that I’d just had major surgery. I only got just past St Giles and a few houses before I decided to come home. It was slowly dawning on me just how limited I had become, albeit temporarily.

It sounds like I’m moaning and that it was the worst day ever. Don’t get me wrong, it was brutal. But there were nice moments too. I remember leaning against the doorframe, doubled over at something Dad had said. I remember thinking that if I was ever pregnant again, I wouldn’t need surgery or labour, all I’d need was Dad to make me laugh and the baby would come straight out through my scar! And I remember Nathan walking in with the most spectacular bunch of flowers for me.

When evening came, everybody went home again. Mum promised to come back as soon as she could. She could see how much help we needed and she was not wrong.

That night, night three, was slightly better. We had a longer run up to bedtime because we weren’t fresh out of hospital. We had learned lots from that first night at home, but I remember feeling shocked that I was expected to do a night with a baby all over again!

One of the hardest things about that was having to sleep sat up because of the C Section. I was also somehow super tuned in to every sound and movement Sophia made. I would hear her breathe and it was like every cell in my body vibrated. It was all so very weird and completely consuming.

By the next morning, things seemed a tiny bit more settled as the hormones came back down to a slightly more reasonable level. We still had a long journey ahead with feeding (and with parenting in general!), but gradually we started to adapt to life with a small, loud human who we couldn’t understand, but who needed a lot of attention. I remain grateful for it all, but blimey, night 2 and day 3 were hard!