(Dear Men ad Quesy People, This is still talking about Baby Boys birth so look away now. Not that much gore. Just a lot of “high-ness”).
The ever friendly midwife had just agreed that I could go into hospital so we rushed around gathering up notes and snacks (couldn’t go without snacks) and hobbled back into the car. This time I didnt feel much like I was being a good pregnant lady, I just felt like I wanted to scream my head off!
By the time we reached the hospital, TENS machine still strapped to me and wires poking out everywhere, I was starting to get a bit out of control with the amount of pain I was in. I kept trying to holding onto what someone had advised about trying to stay in control and it definitely helped me stay in control a bit longer! It was around 03:00am and absolutely freezing by the time I made it to hospital, I was in agony and would have grabbed the midwife by the shoulders if I wasn’t clutching my own back and bump. The first thing that came out of my mouth to the first midwife I laid eyes on was “YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME SOMETHING FOR THE PAIN!”.
My poor other half was having his hands crushed every time a contraction came (as well as having his jacket, jumper and general body yanked very hard!). It was in sharp contrast to the first time we’d been and I realise now that, on my first visit, as soon as I skipped in through the door the midwife was thinking “ahh, silly moo, she’ll be going straight home again in a bit!”.
I must have been really out of control as one of the midwives gently but firmly held both my hands, looked me straight in the eye and told me she’d get me pain relief as soon as they’d checked both me and the baby. All strapped up and another (not fun) internal later and the midwife told me the good news. I was 9cm!!!! She’d got me some gas and air by now and I was starting to enjoy it very much. I was also asking for an epidural and was denied it because I was too far gone. Dammit! She also gave me a shot of Diamorphine in my leg which had me feeling very floaty once it kicked in. I then started spontaneously shouting at the midwife about various things and instantly apologising as soon as they came out of my mouth. I’d also started feeling a bit like a cow, what with all the internal examinations. I fell asleep for bits after that as I can’t remember about 3 hours of my labour.
It was around 06.30am and the midwife was getting was concerned about the baby’s heartbeat which had been dipping for a while during my contractions. She kept frowning at the monitor every so often and then asking if I had the urge to push. I didn’t but offered every time “if it helped”. She must have thought I was out of my mind. I think I was. They doctor took some blood from the baby for some tests to check whether the baby was getting distressed. Whilst we waited for the results the midwife told me they would most likely have to give me an assisted delivery with forceps / ventouse and I wasn’t overly keen but thought ok, as long as the baby is safe. Although I was still getting contractions, my labour didn’t seem to be progressing any further. Damn you 9cm, it hurt like hell and it felt so close but so far!
She kept assuring me I didn’t have to push…which I think means I kept offering to try to push!
About 2 minutes after that, about 10 people started running into the room and I could hear an alarm going off. I was still woozy with the Diarmorphine but alert enough to know lots of people flapping in the room wasn’t a good sign. The doctor was gesturing quite a lot by now and saying the news from the blood result and monitor wasn’t good. The only option was an emergency caesarean section and they were running out of time. A man suddenly appeared by my side thrusting a piece of paper in my face and was rapidly explaining the procedure for me asking for my consent. At the same time the midwife was explaining that it would need to be done ASAP meaning I had to go under a general anaesthetic rather than an epidural. It all happened in a bit of a blur and as soon as I signed the form they wheeled me out and into the operating theatre. I was still clutching my gas and air pipe and we went at full speed into the Operating Theatre. Once in there I was instantly surrounded by about 6 different people, each calling my name and telling me something different.
“Please drink this” ..Ok. Yuk. It was disgusting.
“We’re going to make an incision and get the baby out like that”…ok
“Hold out your hand please”…Ok..
“We’re going to put a tube down your throat”..Really? Oh crap.
“Could you lie down. You’ll be out soon”..Ok
It was around 07:15am as I lay down on the table, I looked up at the operating theatre lights and remember thinking “Ooh, those 3 big round lights, I’ve never seen them before!” And also, that I could very well die. I quickly said a silent prayer just as I went out like a light.
Apparently they got the baby out very quickly and he was officially born at 7.32am and was handed to my hubby who had been instructed to wait in family room next to the Operating Theatre. He told me later that baby had been looking around with his big eyes and just looked a bit confused more than anything. I’d read in my own notes later that baby had needed inflation breaths and that my c section was Grade 1 (Defined as risk of death to mother or baby).
I woke up 2 hours later at 09.30am ish. I was still very groggy but coherent enough. I looked around and there were still a bunch of people flapping around waiting for me to wake up and monitoring me. I caught the eye of my hubby who gave me a massive smile, of mainly relief, and mouthed “It’s a Boy”.
“It’s a Boy????!!” My voice came out all high pitched and shrieky. Partly from the wooziness and partly from my shock. After all, I’d been convinced for 2 days out of my whole pregnancy that it was a girl. I was certain! Ah well!!
They placed him next to me on the bed and I was absolutely amazed at this tiny perfect thing. For some reason, I didn’t cry like I’d expected to. I was just very excited and delighted he (and I) were alive and safe. And that he was so perfect (Did I already say that?). I looked back at my hubby and shrieked “ITS A BABY!!”. I was so thrilled; and that was whilst I was still coming out of the effects of a general anaesthetic! I probably would have run down the corridors hysterically waving my arms above my head otherwise.
“Hello!!!! Are you my baby??” I was beaming through my wooziness and still very shrieky and loud. I knew I was screaming but it was a bit like I was drunk. I couldn’t help myself. My poor baby had both his fists up near his ears (probably to block out the noise) and just looked back at the mad woman talking to him whilst they wheeled us to the maternity ward. Thankfully my shrieks died down quickly. I was a mummy. Absolutely knackered in more ways than one but we had a gorgeous little thing.