And then a baby (additional info)

Wow!  Just re-read my last blog post and realised all the bits I missed and things that make little sense.  Not beating myself up as wrote it in that insanity that is the first week post baby but thought I'd catch you up on some things:

1) The reason I mentioned the 'accidents' is because I think they were my labour indicators.  My body was just so over being pregnant it decided to stop.  I'm super glad.  I was over being pregnant, and knew the likelihood was that my baby was big enough (given my large measurements) to be born so feel no guilt about that.

2) I may have aided baby coming when it did if you believe in old wives tales.  I had been eating induction cookies.  In part because I found the recipe and it looked amazing.  In part because I really wanted the baby to come and I was over it.  The cookies were fucking amazing.  I shared them with friends and family.  Seriously, they are tasty.  I made mine slightly spicier than the recipe (a little extra cayenne) and they were fab.

And the night before I went into labour we did have Indian food.  This wasn't to hurry the baby, but merely because it was our four year Civil Unionersary and we wanted to do something nice, but cheap (cos poor) so picked one of those dealio website deals at the closest restaurant in the cuisine we liked most and went for it.  We ended up at a place called Shor Bazaar in Lynfield which looked nice from their website but on arrival were a bit terrified (sandwiched between a KFC, a TAB and a Wendy's) but OMG it was awesome!  Although the deal was for a regular course, we ended up ordering starters and desserts and ate all things we'd never tried before - which is an achievement as I used to work in Indian restaurants and love and eat a LOT of Indian food.  I didn't order a spice level any higher than I normally would as wanted to enjoy the meal.  And no, I don't think eating curry made me go into labour.

3) Yes, I had a drug free birth (besides Panadol taken earlier that day for hip pain) but believe me, I was begging for drugs - there was just no time!  I had started going into transition before we even left for the hospital (hence my urgency) and because everything happened so fast I was not well pleased.  Because I could get into the water fairly quickly once at hospital though, I soon felt ok without drugs as had gotten over the shock of being in labour and found my groove.

4) I didn't realise or know how much blood I'd lost until a few days after having Abby.  I did know I was lying in a pool of my own blood, but had no idea how normal/abnormal that was as had never had a vaginal delivery before.  And I couldn't actually see how much blood there was - I just knew it was there.  I later found out I was very close to the amount of blood loss where you have to sound all the bells and whistles and get the Drs and people into the room - I am so glad I did not.  It was very nice having just me, Murray and Vanessa (my brilliant Midwife) in our little, private feeling delivery suite feeling awesome.

The only ill effects I noticed from this blood loss was that I was a bit shaky when I did get up for a shower (a couple of hours after having Abby), and was having some difficulty breathing (like when I was anaemic).  Luckily, I had a bag of treats and a few fistfuls of chocolate coated raisins and a cup of tea remedied this fairly quickly.

5) Murray freaked out a bit when Abby was born because she didn't cry (like on TV).  She was fine - it was just because of the delayed cord clamping.  She was also extremely chill for her first couple of days on this earth, and still is (touch wood) most of the time.  Whilst Murray had discussed cutting the cord, in the end he decided not to having done it with Etta and found it a little 'barbaric' after his last experience cutting the cord in the C Section, which we all decided was fair enough.

6) Abby was eleven days early - a week later exactly than Etta who was eighteen days early.  Abby weighed 7lb 8oz - Etta weighed 6lb 15oz - so had they been born at similar times I think they would have been similar weights.  However, Abby was/is SO FAT.  Like, she looks as though you could poke her tummy and she'd pop like a balloon.  Stark contrast to Etta who was a very skinny wee thing.  Abby is also super tall.  51cm at birth, and now 52cm just over a week on.

7) While we would have loved to go to the Helensville Birthing Units from Waitakere unfortunately, the inn was full.  April is a very popular month to give birth, so I wasn't surprised.  Retrospectively, it was great coming straight home as injected some normalcy into this whole thing for Etta.  She only had one night without Mummy and her routines haven't changed.  We figure the easier we can make the transition for her the easier she will make it for us.

8) We took a couple of days to name Abby as when she was born none of the names we'd had seemed quite right.  We did end up going back to a name we'd had in mind - one that Murray had chosen - but after we'd gotten to know her a bit better.  While Etta made her personality clear from before birth, Abby has been a little quieter so we needed a little time to get to know her better.  And while people grow into their monikers, they do have them for life (unless they hate it so much they change it) so it's nice to at least try to get it right.

9) I am so lucky to have had the Midwife I had.  I am glad that I trusted her decisions even in times I was a little anxious about them.  I am so grateful that I laboured under the current system (midwives) rather than the system my Mum laboured under (GP's).  There is no way a GP could have had the level of knowledge Vanessa had to get me comfortably through my pregnancy, labour and these early days with a new baby.  We are so, so lucky to have this in New Zealand.  I do think it's all about finding the right person for you, so if you are not happy, or at all uncomfortable with your Midwife, and have time do shop around.  It will make a trying time so much easier if you have the support that works for you and a good relationship with those giving it.  Especially if you are looking at having a VBAC.

10) I cannot express enough the difference between my emergency C Section and this natural labour.  Again, while I wasn't at all upset or anything by Etta's delivery, Abby's was just so much simpler even if her delivery was in some ways more hands on.  Recovering from a natural birth - even with a small tear and difficult delivery - has been so much faster and simpler than recovering from my C Section.  And with a full on toddler I was so grateful to have the opportunity for a natural birth.  Again, I was very low risk to try for a VBAC, so this choice will not be best for everyone.

For me even had this labour had resulted in another emergency C Section I would have been glad to have tried as because I had done the 'labour' thing before, this time I felt more comfortable with it - I wasn't at all scared.  And while labour is 'labour' and hard and sore, I managed to get to that place they talk about in hypnobirthing - mostly because I knew I would be ok, and I knew this was only for a short period of my life.

While Abby was not in the best of positions (head funny angle, shoulders around the wrong way, cord over shoulder) she was not face first or posterior which made for a much easier delivery.  While I'm sure it would have been possible to birth Etta naturally, it would have been very difficult and traumatic for both of us to have done so.  And while I am glad to have managed a natural birth this time (mostly so I am able to look after my busy toddler easier) I am so grateful to have had the option of a C Section with Etta.

and then a Baby!

Excuse the bad photos - we totally forgot the camera with all the rush but here is our new, bigger family.

So after what felt like a really long pregnancy, but was actually not very long at all, we got to meet that very active person who was living inside me at 11.34pm on Friday night.

In the days preceding labour I had two accidents. 

Wednesday was the only day I had home alone with Etta.  That morning she had been quite tantrummy, so despite being sore decided it best for us both to venture out on the bus to Henderson.  This went very well until just before home time where I tripped backward over one of those electric cable pole things that was inconveniently sticking out of the footpath in a bus stop.  Thankfully I fell onto the cushion of my butt, and besides being embarrassed, shaken and glad the pram didn't roll into the busy thoroughfare, pretty much unscathed.*

On Thursday after hanging out some washing Etta (unsurprisingly) decided she wanted some more outside play time.  Me, not being someone who likes to waste time, decided I could maybe pull some of the overgrown grass off the footpath so Etta would stop injuring herself attempting to wade through that jungle.  I got a few pavers uncovered when I experienced some of the sharpest pain I ever randomly had. 

The whole of the left side of my abdomen was on fire - it hurt to walk and breathe.  I called my Midwife to check it out and it was just muscular, but still ridiculously sore.  I had a fun time coercing Etta into the safety of inside the house without picking her up (as couldn't) and then she pooed at exactly the least convenient moment ever - the most painful nappy change of my life.  I couldn't rest or get myself better so had Etta's Nana come and get her early (she was gonna hang with her later anyway as it was Murray and my 4th Civil Union Anniversary) so I could rest.  After 15 minutes of being able to actually sit down with a wheat pack on my side I felt like a fully functional human again.**  Which was great as meant we could go out and celebrate our anniversary with some amazingly good curry (and still be home for bed by 9pm).

Phew!  Then on Friday I just felt crampy and generally crappy.  But having felt like that many days over the last few weeks I didn't think anything of it.  Mum was over to help out with Etta and we had a pretty relaxed day.  We got another grocery shop done and had a little tidy.  I had home-made pizza premade in the freezer so we had that for dinner.  All was pretty normal really apart from having smashed my body in the two days before and being much more uncoordinated than usual.

Now before I share the nitty gritty of labour I want to preface it by saying:
1) I bitch and moan but I actually had a complications free pregnancy
2) I am generally (besides my guts and brain) a very healthy person
3) My last emergency C Section was due to baby's positioning
4) I have an extremely supportive Midwife that I have a great relationship with

What I'm trying to say is, I was really very low risk for anything going badly wrong with a VBAC.

Now I can continue.

Straight after large pizza dinner while sitting on the couch I felt and heard a 'pop'.  I was pretty sure my waters had broken, but after mad dash to the bathroom there was only a little discharge.  After a second little 'flow' thingee I put my incontinence pants on as knew something was up but wasn't really sure as it was completely different from the dam bust that was my waters with Etta.  Then the contractions started.

That was a shock.

With Etta I had a 17 hour labour which started with fairly mild contractions following my waters breaking (very obviously) - so I didn't experience strong contractions until after almost 7 hours of smaller ones building up.  This time it was just strong contractions lasting 1 - 2 minutes 3 - 5 minutes apart straight off the bat.  I got Murray to call our Midwife to let her know, and my Mum to come to our place.  This was for sure labour, and despite wanting to labour at home as long as possible, I felt we were pretty much there - this was more consistent than my contractions ever were when I was in labour with Etta.  Despite being advised to re-examine things when Mum arrived after half an hour I was like nope, hospital now.***

I was right.  We were 5cm dilated when we arrived at Waitakere and I was not happy.  I was begging for drugs but needed a little fetal monitoring before we could do anything.  The bath had been running before we got there and my fab Midwife did the monitoring and internal exam ASAP when we arrived and for as little time as possible - I think probably less than 20 minutes.  I didn't have an IV inserted - I didn't even think about it as was going into transition.  As soon as possible I hopped into the birthing pool (it wasn't full enough yet) and continued labouring there.

Oh dear lord I love birthing pools!  It took me a little bit, but I managed to get into a far more zen state than I had with Etta.  I just breathed through the contractions kneeling in the bath resting my chin on top of the bath and told myself this wouldn't take long - this wasn't forever and did the whole 'each contraction brings me closer to my baby' bollocks (secretly followed by the 'I just need to get through this and I won't be pregnant ever again' mantra).  And it helped.  I was seriously only in the pool about half an hour when I started feeling the urge to push and had the go ahead to go for it.

It would be lovely if I could tell you it was like all those labours where they're like 'and I did three big pushes and then we had a baby', but that wasn't the case.  The pushing part of this labour was as long as the previous part, so it was hard slog.  We pushed in the bath for about half an hour, then decided to move positions to see if we could get some more stuff going on.  So moved to the bed and did like a rested squat pushing thing.  This did get some movement happening, but again, it was slow, so then we moved into that awful position people are in in the movies.  This was initially uncomfortable, but was obviously progressing things so I just focused on the job at hand.

There was a period of worry.  With Etta we got to 'the corner' and she just kept slipping back.  When we got to that point this time it seemed like it might happen again - only it didn't.  While this baby slipped back a little both Murray and my Midwife reassured me pretty much every push was getting a little more traction which helped keep me on track.  My Midwife said we were so progressed this baby was going to be a vaginal delivery no matter what so I did what I could to make that happen.

It still took time.  It got to the point where I could see the baby's head too (via a mirror) and was so like 'it MUST be going to be some time in the next few pushes!' and it still wasn't.  Eventually it got to the point where the baby was out to the eyebrows and then team Murray/Midwife were like 'just give it all the weetbix you've got!' so I figured something might happen.

In the birthing videos and movies I've seen this is the part where the Mum gives a really epic screamy push and the head slowly pops out, and then the body kinda slithers out like a worm - so that's kinda what I thought would happen.  It didn't.  The baby's head came out on a slight angle, and then her shoulders were around the wrong way and her cord was looped over one shoulder and was being compressed.  So my Midwife did some serious crazy quick handwork (whilst also trying to keep a thumb on a vaginal tear that was just opening up and dealing with a woman with a head coming out of her vagina), which, while it took some time and was quite scary (and fucking sore) from where I was sitting was the magic that got us a healthy baby in the end.

So out she popped covered in vernix and slime and slopped onto my chest and promptly shat meconium everywhere.  She was soooo ugly!  She was quite battered from the birth with a fair few bruises and an actually black nose and very cold from the shoulder/cord issues.  We waited for the cord to stop pulsing, but were on a bit of a timer as my Midwife wanted the placenta out quickly as I was bleeding quite a bit and she wasn't sure how bad the tear I'd had was.  So we did have some delay on clamping, but then all systems go with an injection to bring out the placenta (like birthing a giant steak - simple compared to what came prior) so she could make sure I was ok.

I was.  I didn't need any stitches.  When I saw the bloodbath a while later I could understand the concern, and I could understand why Murray had moved to the head end of things.  He has subsequently said the manipulations required down there to get our new one born was the goriest thing he'd ever seen, and basically I have props for life for going through that.  I was fine though.  I had my new baby and was no longer pregnant and it only took about four hours to get through that whole thing!

And then we had some chill time in the delivery suite.  Because it was all so fast, none of the other hospital staff had any idea we'd even had a baby.  At some point out in the corridor we heard a nurse ask our Midwife how progressed I was, and she was like 'we had a baby about an hour ago'.  It was really nice.  Whilst I was totally happy with Etta's birth, this was a very different experience.  I guess it felt more personal - I don't really know how else to put it.  It was just us three (and our baby) for all the things you don't really want other people to see.  Nothing was medicalised.  I had one needle prick.  The only drugs I had had were Panadol, and within a couple of hours I was walking around and had a shower and peed and it was quite surreal.

I was home proper after about 13 hours after going in to hospital.

There is much more to say about this, but I will continue on another day.  Our toddler is playing with Mum outside in the sun, Murray's gone out to have some well deserved time to himself and our new little girl, Abby, is just waking up after a deliciously long nap.

*It did make my bad hip a bit worse, so from then until post labour I had a bit of a limp and was a bit sore.  

** The BIG difference between being pregnant with children, and being pregnant without.  The big difference between life with and without children in general!

*** Again, our fantastic neighbour saved the day as our stop gap.  Sooo lucky to have the neighbours we have.

On Labour Part 2: Labouring in water

                     What labouring in water looks like when not in a contraction...

It felt like forever until my contractions got regular enough, and close enough together for us to head in to hospital.  While we waited, we half heartedly watched Batman and Batman Returns - our equivalent of 'listening to soothing music' I guess.  Having contractions in the car was horrible, but knowing the trip only took 10 minutes made things ok.  We didn't arrive at hospital until 3pm, and Murray and I were still unsure if I would be dilated enough to get into the birthing pool, or even stay at hospital as my contractions had stayed quite irregular - we lied about how contractions to get into hospital early.  Murray had no choice in the issue.  Things hurt.  I needed help.  Our Midwife was slightly late, and I was at a loose end finding places to get through painful contractions until she arrived.  After an internal exam we found out I was 4cm dilated - just enough to stay at hospital and get into the pool.  Thank the lord!

In prep for labour, with all the problems with my hips, I had always felt that just as long as I could get into that birthing pool I'd be ok.  I was so mistaken.  Getting into the pool did help marginally, but it didn't magically make the contractions not sore.  It did seem to make the contractions more regular though, which was both a blessing and a curse.  It took less than a half hour in the pool before I was begging my Midwife for the gas.  The gas was not my friend.  It was really loud to inhale and just made me feel shaky and distracted from the task at hand.

Sadly, my Midwife Justine had to leave around 5pm and pass me on to her birthing partner Vanessa.  I was supposed to have my first appointment with Vanessa on Monday, so I was very glad that despite having not met her, I felt totally fine with her during an embarrassing, personal and intense time.  I felt so bad for Murray.  I didn't feel like being touched, and all his helpful talk, the 'just focus on this contraction and your breathing' just earned him a grumpier wife.  I found Vanessa a good distraction as we could talk deadlines, statistics, facts and other things that calmed me down.  We did find a job for Murray though, which was 'get Hannah a cool flannel and feed her water'.  Once that job was established, he seemed a lot less at a loose end.

Things very quickly got to the point where I was begging for an epidural.  My labour team were saying 'be logical' and I said that I was - there was no way I could cope with the pain of natural birth any more therefore an epidural was a logical solution.  I was exhausted by the contractions and lack of sleep over the previous few days, and was losing the plot.  Vanessa said we could do an internal to see how far along I was to determine if an epidural was a good option.  I said yes please.  Getting out of the birthing pool was absolute agony, but if I had some sort of time-frame then I knew I'd be able to cope better.  I was 9cm dilated - only 1cm away from being able to push.  I had managed to dilate from 4cm to 9cm in just an hour and a half.  Bloody awesome work.  I knew that pool would work!

Murray and I were both expecting Vanessa to tell us that I was only 5cm dilated and I would cry and ask for an epidural again, so we were both so relieved.  She said I could probably start pushing in about 20 minutes.  She said there was no point in an epidural at this stage, and I agreed - I knew it would just extend the labour.  Less than 15 minutes later I felt this huge pressure on my tailbone area, and the urge to push - like when you have a really bad stomach bug and have no control over your bowels cramping.  This meant I could start pushing.

Even though I'd imagined that pushing would be the worst, most painful part, like everyone had told me, it's not.  The part I'd experienced just before (transition), was.  Pushing hurts, but you have a focal point throughout - trying to get the baby out.  Pushing is also the most embarrassing part of labour - it's usually the part where you shit yourself.  Even though I'm not a prude, I couldn't even labour nude (I mostly laboured as pictured above) - the idea of shitting myself was terrifying.  And what's worse, is that for me, I could feel it happening.  I apologised when the two very small pieces of faecal matter came out.  It was scooped out with a small net so I never saw it, but I knew it had happened, and that two people had just witnessed me defecating at close range.  Why people want a big labour 'team' I'll never understand.

After almost an hour of pushing I could (this is gross) put my finger one knuckle into my vagina and feel the baby's head.  At this stage, I was sure there wasn't much further to go.  Vanessa said it can be tough getting the baby's head 'around the corner' (the pubic bone), so we might have a way to go yet.  After a while of pushing, they could see the top of the head, and that head then getting 'sucked' back in.  She had lots of dark hair!  What an inspiration to push!  But every time I got close our hopes were dashed as her head went back to where it was.  During this, I was squatting with my head leaned against the edge of the bath.  Murray was cooling my forehead and feeding me water.  It was like the grossest team sport ever.  I was so glad we had really low lighting in that room.   At this stage I named our baby.  I had wanted to wait until she was born to name her, but given how stubborn she was proving, I knew exactly which of our favourite names suited her best.

Soon Vanessa said we should move from the pool to another position/place as the water might actually be slowing the progress of the labour down.  It took a while to convince me of this.  Moving when in labour is a terrifying idea, but eventually I caved after it became apparent nothing was progressing in the water.  I laboured standing up leaned against a bench until it was determined that wasn't helping.  Then I was told I should try the 'optimal' position for this part of labour - lying on the bed on my back with my feet in stirrups.  I had horrible back and hip pain and hadn't lain on my back for any period of time in months so this seemed like the worst position imaginable.  But I wanted to get the job done, so I got up on that bed and gave it a shot.

Soon, my contractions started getting less strong, so someone else was called in to see what to do next.  I was in agony at this point, and begging for an epidural or anything to help me get through it.  The biggest problem was that I was exhausted.  Every contraction I put in a token effort of pushing, but I was just losing the stamina (and motivation) to do the larger pushes of earlier.  The head Midwifey lady thing put me on a drip - the theory being that hydrating me might help strengthen the contractions.  It didn't strengthen them enough.  I was still pushing as much as I could with the contractions, and they were still seeing her head, and then it would disappear again.

Things were escalated again and the Dr was to be called in.  When Vanessa found out who the Dr on call was she was not very happy - apparently he's a very conservative Dr.  More direct foetal monitoring would need to be done before he'd even see me as my heart rate was interfering with the standard fetal monitoring.  So a monitor was attached to baby's head via my vagina.  Monitoring proved baby to be perfectly fine: 'The baby isn't in distress, so our options will be to give you a drug to help strengthen your contractions, or give you an epidural'.  I told her I was very glad the baby wasn't distressed, but that I was, and I just didn't have the strength to go on pushing so to please please let me have the epidural.

It wasn't too long until the Dr turned up.  Given they had told me he was a 'conservative' Dr, I expected the worst (which to me was 'just keep on pushing honey!')  After an extremely painful internal exam he told me he had some bad news.  Even though the baby wasn't in distress it was clear her head was becoming misshapen from being stuck in the birth canal.  To ensure the baby stayed safe in labour I needed to have a C Section.  At this point I was just filled with joy.  There was a solution.  It wouldn't take long.  My baby would be ok and I'd get to meet her soon.  I told him that was fine, and I just hoped we could get it done soon.

*            *            *           *          *

There will be a Part 3 and then no more on labour I promise (except maybe a 'tips' list).  Sorry!  Lots happened, so writing in parts helps now I have a new little baby to look after and little time and brain.  I will try and get it up in the next few days so stay tuned...

On Plans for Labour and Birth Stuff

I thought I'd just pop a quick post up regarding our plans for labour - just so friends and whanau know what they are.

I really don't like other people seeing me in pain or unwell.  This is why when I have really severe anxiety or IBS, you will not see me out and about.  I will be camped out at home riding things out.  When I don't feel like I can put a 'face' on (happy, 'normal' me), it is unlikely that you'll see me.  Because of this, many people think I've 'got things together' - this is what I like people to think.  Sometimes when I say 'I have plans' it's because I plan on sitting home alone crying until everything feels normal again.  Even being around the people I love and know are ok with my crazy is difficult for me when I'm below par.  That's just how it's always been.

I've been to hospital a lot in the last few years - and I've been fine with having visitors.  What people won't know (cos carefully planned) is that I only have visitors once I know, roughly, what's going on.  And I'm also usually doped up on pain killers by the time anyone's allowed to visit - which makes coping with whatever 'hospital' situation I'm in much easier.  I can wash my face, and look slightly human - like a normal sick-in-hospital-person.  So it's fine for people to come visit me.   Because even normal, coping people get sick, or break their ankles trampolining, and end up in hospital sometimes.

And because I will not be doped up or in control or able to put a face on, I don't want ANYONE around when I am in labour.  Except for Murray.  He's seen crap Hannah plenty.  And he made me some promises in a deconsecrated church that mean it's basically his job.  He has been to the classes with me and is cool, calm and collected - the perfect person to help me through this insanity.  Having anyone else around, even my favourite people, will distract me from the job at hand - getting this baby out as calmly, easily and hopefully quickly as possible.  If it turns out to be a long labour, we might let a few people know in case we need someone to bring us supplies (like food, or fizzy pop or games or whatever), but we'll ask them to drop supplies and run.  I can't think of anything worse than someone on the sidelines saying: 'C'mon Hannah, you're doing awesome!'  I will just stress out, grit my teeth and secretly want to punch that person, no matter who it is.*

This may surprise some people because I am so frank with my blogs/social media/in person.  But there is a big difference between being frank about something and actually letting people witness the carnage firsthand.  I'm happy to report back, but I don't want anyone to actually see this stuff.  Plus, when I say gross things about me it's funny.  When you say the same things, it's not as funny.  Sometimes it might even make me cry.  Cos by the time I say those things about me, I've processed them.  If you say it, I might not have yet and might just feel stink.  Me saying 'Wow, I have a train wreck vagina' is different than you saying 'Wow!  You have a train wreck vagina' - even if it's true**.

We plan on delivering at Waitakere Hospital (only a 10 minute drive from our house) and then transferring up to the Helensville Birthing Units.  I've heard awesome things about the birthing units from most people who've stayed up there - plus it's close to Mum.  It's also a little further away from Auckland...  That's because I equally don't want to see people straight after I've given birth.  This isn't because of my potential vaginal mess.  This is because I really don't know how I'm going to cope with having a small baby.  I have never been clucky.  I am not a 'baby' person.  I'm not sure how this stuff works.  Me, Murray and the baby will all be new to this being-a-family thing.  So I want us to have the time and space to work this out for ourselves. 

Of course this part is subject to change - everything might feel awesome and exciting and we might want to show our baby off to the world.  Or labour/baby may have some issues and we need some support.  We just don't know.  And we don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, so we're putting it out there now so no-one gets upset later.  We do promise to let people know when the baby arrives, and whether things are ok or not.  But I won't be on Facebook (don't have a smart phone) and we there won't be a million photos up immediately.

Once we get home, I'm sure we'll be keen as to have human contact.  This baby is lucky to have so many people in the world to love it.  And we promise everyone will get a chance to meet it once we've had a chance to spend time together as a new little family.  Thanks everyone for the love and support through this pregnancy dealio - it truly is appreciated.  

* Back in my younger days, I actually did punch someone in the face (they asked me to do it - literally - don't ask me why).  I'm surprisingly good at it (didn't injure fist, procured black eye).  You really don't want this to accidentally happen to you.  So I definitely advise not being around while I'm in labour.  Just in case I let my 'face' go and smack you one.

** Unless we've had a conversation about it previously, and you know it's ok - this does apply to some people.  They know who they are.