Birth Story Second Time Round – Part 2

I think I was still in denial at this point, scared that if I acknowledged it I would scare it away.  So we got home and I sat bouncing on my ball whilst Hubby sorted Beans dinner and got her all tucked up in bed, whilst I, bored with bouncing got on with making dinner.

We watched a movie with dinner, what I cannot remember all I remember was eating through my contractions enjoying my Mexican food but not quite sure if it was the best choice as we all know sometimes you gotta go during labour. Ah well!  I had started to feel pretty uncomfortable by this point so at my husbands suggestion I took a bath, hubby sitting with me whipped out the iPhone to time my contractions (yes, they’ve got an app for that) they were coming 5/6 minutes apart, I got out and wanted to double-check my bag and by this point I was not comfortable at all, so hubby phoned the hospital (8pm ish?) who spoke to me and said I had to be having 3 in 10 minutes to warrant going in…eekkk.  I was not looking forward to this no and was maybe starting to regret being so adamant to not having  section!

In Labour…

I was starting to get a little short with my Husband by this point, as I think you do when you are trying to deal with quite a remarkable amount of pain only to have someone tell you to relax between contractions – THERE IS NO BETWEEN CONTRACTIONS!!! So I was pretty much in an oversized t-shirt (although it was pretty damned cold out, hubby was actually under the duvet) whilst I crawled about on all 4’s the only way I actually felt comfortable.  The pressure was getting unbearable now, but every time my hubby wanted to phone the hospital again I wouldn’t let him, still certain I would only be 3/4 cms and be sent home.  Then they went of the chart, and it seemed to be a constant stream of OWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!  He phoned the hospital and told them we were coming and then phoned my Mum, I think it was 10.30 at this point.  Now, bearing in mind my Mum is never late for anything, in fact she’s always early and she knew I was in labour she and my stepdad took literally forever to get to our house 2 minutes away (literally 2 minutes) So when they finally arrived at 11pm I was not a happy bunny and as soon as I saw their faces, wide-eyed with fear I knew I couldn’t shout at them! So I hugged them as fast and calmly as I could without (I hope) showing too much pain on my face, before bundling into the back on my car in all fours riding out the contractions.

The one thing I had asked my hubby not to do was when I’m in labour – do not ask me the way to go to hospital. And he did, needless to say I ignored him..! It was the longest 15 minutes of my life driving to the hospital and all I was hoping was not be sent home!  I had the urge to stop so many times walking from the car park to A&E but I was so desperate to get to the ward, the reception staff just saw my face and pointed the way, and guess what – no lift, stairs. now those I couldn’t master without stopping!!

Once we got onto the Delivery Suite I could hear in the nurses voices that they thought I was another first timer struggling a bit, so off we went to triage, I was so hot that my trousers were off again and then I needed to pee, the midwife was clearly not impressed with me so far!  So, the dreaded examination came next and to my utter joy I was 7/8 cms (seriously I was so pleased, I have no idea what I would have done if they had said I was less than that coz it was getting unbearable by this point)  Their attitude to me changed immediately and despite thinking I wanted to use the pool, I was not interested by this point wandering down the corridor in my t-shirt, socks and pants, midwife & hubby behind lugging my gear – what I sight I must have been!!

So we got to the room, and I was straight on the floor again, it was more comfortable and sooooo cold!  Now, because I was classed as high risk owing to the previous section the first things they had to do was get a ‘line’ in my arm and get the monitors on the baby so they could check the heart rate at all times, me being me this was not as easy as it sounds.  I’m on all fours when they give me the gas and air, and I hit that biatch HARD, whilst two nurses tried to get this needle in my arm…I may have taken a little too much gas as the next thing I know I am passing out (hahahaha ROCKSTAR!!!) the nurses didn’t notice but hubby did so cue him trying to support me and keep  my arm straight so this needle would go in. Blood bath, s’all I’m saying!  Once I came round (not once did I let go of that gas during this) I  ended up kneeling on the semi dismantled bed from the floor up, at some point I realised I was still ridiculously hot I looked down to see myself wearing my socks “WHY THE FUCK AM I WEARING SOCKS?!? GERROMEOFFAME!!!” “But you love socks” was my hubby’s reply as he removed the offending items, now the midwife was getting a bit frustrated because she was desperately trying to monitor the baby and the leads wouldnt reach me on the floor, so up I climbed (like a mad woman possessed) onto the bed so that I was now kneeling holding onto the headboard as it were, with the monitors finally reaching my belly.  Not that it was any easier for the poor woman, afterwards she told me she had never in all her years of midwifery had a lady move and fidget as much as me. Active Birth and then some!!

So I was blissfully (!) riding out my contractions when all of a sudden there was this god awful surge of pressure and then a huge popping release “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?” Evidently I swear a lot, but it was my waters breaking, the midwife thought she saw meconium and that stopped me fidgeting long enough to be checked and actually it wasnt and we were fine, so off I went into my own little world battling through the contractions until that infamous “I need to poo” moment and before the midwife could get her gloves on to check I was 10cms I just started pushing, and when the midwife did check she announced that she could see lots of hair and for me to carry on pushing.

Now I am the first to admit that I am pretty impatient so after two or three goes I demanded to know what was taking so long, I was informed that I needed to be getting three good pushes for every contractions – only need to be told once so off I went on a mission, still it was taking to long, again I was told it was normal and the baby was just slipping back and forth.  I was not having this any longer so I pushed until I could push no more and I was finally initiated into that womans only club – The ring of fire, holy fuck that hurts.  That for me was the worst bit, i had abandoned the gas and air when I started pushing so to have to wait for the next contraction before I could push again was by far the worst bit and then before I knew it my darling girl was passed up between my legs towards my chest and my very confused face, hubby was crying the midwife was clucking away and all I was thinking was “Arrggghhh you’re here! How do I hold you again?!”  Daddy cut the cord and was positively beaming at our little bundle.  I was till numb to it all then, amazed that I had done it and she was finally here at 1.42am.

I was covered in all kinds of god knows what and then I had to sit in it, only to be informed that I had in fact torn and needed stitches. yaye. Then comes that good old giant needle filled with anesthetic and you know where its going, seriously after everything it’s just been through?! I could not be arsed with gas this time just get it in and get stitching.  Daddy was trying to remember how to get a newborn baby dressed whilst this was going on, and she was bigger than we had expected so the first outfit had to be swapped for another! Not funny for Daddy.  And then I got her back for that lovely first feed, the midwife went off to organise the awful tea (take your own bags, seriously it’s terrible) and toast.  I was done now, I wanted to get the hell outta hospital and home, I let the midwife know but I still had to wait until 7am until we could leave. Maccy D’s for bacon rolls and hot chocolate (and something for the grandparents waiting at home) whilst our precious little cargo slumbered peacefully in her seat.

It was such a nicer experience than first time round, yes it hurt but afterwards when we were left just the three of us we sat and talked the whole thing through, my husband calling me a machine and telling me how funny I had been (pain clearly bringing out the best in my dry humour) I had been so hot during the whole thing and normally I am freezing, I had demanded the fan be blowing in my face throughout and whenever it stopped I just kept asking my husband why he was turning it off, what I had missed was the fact that the midwife was telling him to turn it off as it couldn’t be on when the baby was born.  Clearly he knew who to listen to as that fan stayed on!!  We laughed a lot, and tried to fix on a name for baby girl number two it seemed to take us forever. Oh and she cried the whole time I was in the shower! Bless.  We also laughed at my husband getting very carried away with the contraction timing, at some point he decided that his job was way more important and got VERY cross with me for not letting him know when a contraction had started or ended.  It wasn’t funny at the time, I actually wanted to stab him with a butter knife, not that I had it about me to actually go and get one, but you get the drift, yet afterwards it just kept making me laugh, that and the sock incident!

We had only stepped back into our home for a few minutes when snow started falling, it only lasted minutes, but still.

Still the only picture of me and Bites that I like

Me, Bites, blood and the awful tea!