It’s almost the anniversary of this blog. A year ago tomorrow badmuthablogger was born. Last year seems like a lifetime ago. Someone else’s life. Who was I back then? What was I thinking? What was I doing? What was on my mind?

Bunny was in my belly, but I had no idea who he was, nor that I was  about to give birth 4 days later. I had no idea what a horrendous journey his birth story would be. I was full of hope for a nice fluffy home birth.  What a joke that turned out to be. I put so much energy into visualising the perfect natural birth, practising my breathing and birthing positions, attending birth classes, and building a birth altar in my bedroom. And in the end it all went totally tits up. There’s a lesson to be learned in there. Something about expectations, and remembering that life is what happens when you’re making other plans.

This is my bedroom birth altar, with all it’s hopes, dreams and intentions for a happy home birth. All that hippy shit has gone in the bin now.  

 birth_altar

Back then I was a mass of swirling hormones, back aches and fatigue. I had to pee every few seconds, and I ate like a horse. Pickles mostly. And burritos. Lots of cheese. No wonder I gained 55lbs. This is what I looked like a year ago today:

bunny_in_belly

A fat, pregnant cow, waddling along Stinson beach, swinging my legs out to the side in order to move forwards. I didn’t make it very far. It was exhausting just getting out of the car. Will you look at the effing size of that stomach! Talk about spine curvature. I don’t think my spine ever recovered from the trauma. And neither did my tummy muscles. They still bag into a saggy, wrinkly wad when I bend over.

bunny_in_belly2

Good grief, that baby is BIG. It looks like you could stick a pin in my belly and pop me. I can’t believe I was walking around with that enormous lump in front of me. But hey, the weather was fabulous and the ocean was calling.

I’ve got this annoying backache today, and a feeling that my old sciatica is about to rear it’s ugly head, in time for its anniversary. I can’t feel my toes, and there’s a numbness and tingling down the outside of my butt and thigh. It’s like my body remembers the trauma. It’s a biorhythm that’s gonna come back year after year.

The strange thing is, I’d suffer through it all again in a heartbeat – the birth trauma, the sciatica, being fat and hormonal – so long as I could hold my little bun-buns in my arms.

bunny_is_born

I’m ready to do it all again so that bun-buns can have a little brother or sister in his life. If the Gods are kind and the sperm donors willing, maybe next anniversary I’ll have another bun cooking in the oven.