keeptrying
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My wonderful partner Craig and I were blessed with our beautiful baby boy Henry on Monday 7th April 2014, born happily at 39+3 gestation. Having settled in our home, Henry is almost 3 months old and I just realised I never shared what happened in those couple of days. So I've decided to make myself a cup of tea and rack my brains to pull various dates/times/details together into some kind of birth story. So here it is: the story of how Henry epically escaped from his Mummy's tummy. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed enduring it!
I guess I'll start on Saturday 5th April, 39+1
I didn't do a lot that day, like any other day, as I had been armchair-bound for a good number of weeks due to severe SPD causing me to not be able to walk further than the bathroom (but thank goodness I could still reach there!). As my due date was now under a week away, I spent the day pondering and contraction/plug-watching like I usually did. It wasn't that I was afraid of going overdue, I was expecting to. I was more than anxious about the birth though. It was only in the last days leading up to labour that I really started to consider the fact that I might not physically be able to birth my baby.
I had always hoped for a very active labour, by staying upright, letting gravity do its thing and moving around as much as possible. I had slowly been losing faith in my body day by day, wondering whether it would be the right time to consider requesting a Caesarean section. By the time I reached 39 weeks, the pain from my SPD had become literally unbearable, and I had become extremely concerned about doing serious damage to myself if I were to attempt a natural birth.
Anyway, on with the actual story! I was having regular Braxton Hicks every 20 minutes which weren't painful, but I certainly knew they were there and I sat timing them for a little while before collapsing in bed at around midnight. I didn't mention anything to Craig as I knew how nervous he was about my going into labour and I didn't want to say anything in case it was a false alarm.
Sunday 6th April, 39+2
I was in and out of sleep all night, I knew I was having slightly stronger pain but didn't let them stop me getting some much needed rest. I went to the loo a few times in the night but my brain just ignored the obvious regular contractions I was having.
I slept right through until 10am, Craig only coming to bed at around 6am, still completely unaware of what had been happening in the night. I went to the loo to find I had a huge show and I realised my pains were coming more frequently now. I went back into the bedroom and told Craig it's happening. He'd had next to no sleep so I'm not sure how much he believed me at the time. But he got out of bed anyway. I wasn't in any pain at all and was just so excited about meeting our boy.
I grabbed my ball and put the TV on and started bouncing. Within about 10 minutes I knew I really didn't want to be doing that, so I stuck the TENS machine on and sat down in my armchair to relax. I began timing my contractions again on my app.
From 10am til 4pm all I did was watch TV and time my contractions. It was clear that they were getting closer together but I was still in no pain at all and just imagining what was to come. I phoned the hospital at 4pm to let them know I was having 3 contractions in 10 minutes lasting a minute each. They asked if I was happy to stay at home and I said yes. They said they wanted to send a midwife out to assess me which I was fine with.
The midwife arrived at 4:30pm and she examined me and told me I was 1cm dilated and that my cervix was paper thin. She told me I would definitely have my baby by the morning, and she was on her way.
From 4:30pm til 11pm I continued watching TV and timing contractions. They were starting to kick up a gear as the evening progressed and I thought I could feel my waters trickling at around 10:30pm, so Craig phoned the hospital again. He told them I was contracting every 2 minutes, lasting a minute and that I thought my waters were going. They wanted to speak to me, but I was hardly able to get a word out as I was just concentrating on getting through the contractions. They told me they wanted me to get to the hospital, and I told them I was coping fine at home, at which point they insisted that I get to the hospital. I didn't think I was in enough pain to warrant going to the hospital yet, so I was reluctant. I also didn't think I was dilated enough and really didn't want to get to the hospital to be sent home again. But I got dressed and we got in the car and drove the 5 minutes to Basingstoke hospital. I had 4 contractions on the journey there.
We arrived at the hospital and, due to the fact that I couldn't walk, Craig buzzed up to the ward and asked if they could bring a wheelchair down. The midwife at the other end tried to suggest that I walk up, to which Craig swiftly suggested that I don't. So down they came with the wheelchair.
In Maternity Assessment, I met the wonderful midwife I was assigned at 11:45pm and was examined. She told me my waters were still intact and that I was 7cm dilated. I think I said something along the lines of you're fucking joking! I was expecting her to say I was 3 or 4cm, I couldn't believe I nearly stayed at home! Another thing I said was please don't break my waters. I don't know why I said that, I suppose because I've watched One Born Every Minute a few too many times and there's hooks going up hoohars left, right and centre. You're not going home.
Monday 7th April, 39+3
I arrived on Delivery Suite and then things actually started to sink in. I was 7cm dilated, contracting every minute and had had no pain relief, not even paracetamol. I had a distant feeling of dread over the fact that I was going to be pushing a baby out pretty soon, but it was at this point I went into a complete trance. I didn't want anyone to talk to me or touch me, as I found it distracting. I just stood leaning with my hands on the bed and silently blew away all my contractions until 01:30 when I began to feel the urge to push.
The midwife told me she wasn't going to assess me as she was certain I was fully dilated, so I got on the bed on all fours, leaning over the back of the bed and started pushing. I was in the heat of transition and for the first time during my labour, I started to lose the plot a bit. It wasn't that I was in horrendous pain, I was just so terrified of the prospect of squeezing a baby out of such a small place. I started saying things such as I don't want to do it and help me. I felt like I wasn't pushing effectively and was getting very uncomfortable in the position I was in: it was putting and incredibly amount of pressure on my hips, so I decided to lie on my side.
Once I'd changed position I was so much more comfortable and felt much more confident about what I had to do. I was pushing as hard as I could, but the fear was holding me back and I was so tired. The midwife told me that if I didn't start pushing more effectively she would have to let the doctors know. As soon as she said this, the prospect of ventouse, forceps or even Caesarean ran through my mind. I told myself that if I can get this far with no pain relief or intervention then there was no way I wasn't going to do this naturally.
I pushed as hard as I could and his head was finally born. The midwife told me the cord was round his neck and told Craig to press the orange buzzer. I didn't panic, because as soon as she said it I knew I would push him out with the next contraction because it was vital. And I did. Henry George Tyler Gardener was born at 2:44am on Monday 7th April weighing 7lbs exactly. He didn't cry, but within a few seconds of him being put on my chest he was wriggling and began opening his eyes. I've never felt anything like it. He was just so beautiful. We delayed the cord being clamped and Craig cut the cord after a few minutes, then I was given an injection and the placenta was born within a couple of minutes. I had grazing but no stitches, as Henry was born with his hand up by his face which resulted in him scratching me on the way down.
Labour and birth was absolutely nothing like I expected it to be. It was perfect and the most incredible experience of my life. I can't wait to do it again.
Well done if you got this far and thank you for reading my story.
Kristina xx
I guess I'll start on Saturday 5th April, 39+1
I didn't do a lot that day, like any other day, as I had been armchair-bound for a good number of weeks due to severe SPD causing me to not be able to walk further than the bathroom (but thank goodness I could still reach there!). As my due date was now under a week away, I spent the day pondering and contraction/plug-watching like I usually did. It wasn't that I was afraid of going overdue, I was expecting to. I was more than anxious about the birth though. It was only in the last days leading up to labour that I really started to consider the fact that I might not physically be able to birth my baby.
I had always hoped for a very active labour, by staying upright, letting gravity do its thing and moving around as much as possible. I had slowly been losing faith in my body day by day, wondering whether it would be the right time to consider requesting a Caesarean section. By the time I reached 39 weeks, the pain from my SPD had become literally unbearable, and I had become extremely concerned about doing serious damage to myself if I were to attempt a natural birth.
Anyway, on with the actual story! I was having regular Braxton Hicks every 20 minutes which weren't painful, but I certainly knew they were there and I sat timing them for a little while before collapsing in bed at around midnight. I didn't mention anything to Craig as I knew how nervous he was about my going into labour and I didn't want to say anything in case it was a false alarm.
Sunday 6th April, 39+2
I was in and out of sleep all night, I knew I was having slightly stronger pain but didn't let them stop me getting some much needed rest. I went to the loo a few times in the night but my brain just ignored the obvious regular contractions I was having.
I slept right through until 10am, Craig only coming to bed at around 6am, still completely unaware of what had been happening in the night. I went to the loo to find I had a huge show and I realised my pains were coming more frequently now. I went back into the bedroom and told Craig it's happening. He'd had next to no sleep so I'm not sure how much he believed me at the time. But he got out of bed anyway. I wasn't in any pain at all and was just so excited about meeting our boy.
I grabbed my ball and put the TV on and started bouncing. Within about 10 minutes I knew I really didn't want to be doing that, so I stuck the TENS machine on and sat down in my armchair to relax. I began timing my contractions again on my app.
From 10am til 4pm all I did was watch TV and time my contractions. It was clear that they were getting closer together but I was still in no pain at all and just imagining what was to come. I phoned the hospital at 4pm to let them know I was having 3 contractions in 10 minutes lasting a minute each. They asked if I was happy to stay at home and I said yes. They said they wanted to send a midwife out to assess me which I was fine with.
The midwife arrived at 4:30pm and she examined me and told me I was 1cm dilated and that my cervix was paper thin. She told me I would definitely have my baby by the morning, and she was on her way.
From 4:30pm til 11pm I continued watching TV and timing contractions. They were starting to kick up a gear as the evening progressed and I thought I could feel my waters trickling at around 10:30pm, so Craig phoned the hospital again. He told them I was contracting every 2 minutes, lasting a minute and that I thought my waters were going. They wanted to speak to me, but I was hardly able to get a word out as I was just concentrating on getting through the contractions. They told me they wanted me to get to the hospital, and I told them I was coping fine at home, at which point they insisted that I get to the hospital. I didn't think I was in enough pain to warrant going to the hospital yet, so I was reluctant. I also didn't think I was dilated enough and really didn't want to get to the hospital to be sent home again. But I got dressed and we got in the car and drove the 5 minutes to Basingstoke hospital. I had 4 contractions on the journey there.
We arrived at the hospital and, due to the fact that I couldn't walk, Craig buzzed up to the ward and asked if they could bring a wheelchair down. The midwife at the other end tried to suggest that I walk up, to which Craig swiftly suggested that I don't. So down they came with the wheelchair.
In Maternity Assessment, I met the wonderful midwife I was assigned at 11:45pm and was examined. She told me my waters were still intact and that I was 7cm dilated. I think I said something along the lines of you're fucking joking! I was expecting her to say I was 3 or 4cm, I couldn't believe I nearly stayed at home! Another thing I said was please don't break my waters. I don't know why I said that, I suppose because I've watched One Born Every Minute a few too many times and there's hooks going up hoohars left, right and centre. You're not going home.
Monday 7th April, 39+3
I arrived on Delivery Suite and then things actually started to sink in. I was 7cm dilated, contracting every minute and had had no pain relief, not even paracetamol. I had a distant feeling of dread over the fact that I was going to be pushing a baby out pretty soon, but it was at this point I went into a complete trance. I didn't want anyone to talk to me or touch me, as I found it distracting. I just stood leaning with my hands on the bed and silently blew away all my contractions until 01:30 when I began to feel the urge to push.
The midwife told me she wasn't going to assess me as she was certain I was fully dilated, so I got on the bed on all fours, leaning over the back of the bed and started pushing. I was in the heat of transition and for the first time during my labour, I started to lose the plot a bit. It wasn't that I was in horrendous pain, I was just so terrified of the prospect of squeezing a baby out of such a small place. I started saying things such as I don't want to do it and help me. I felt like I wasn't pushing effectively and was getting very uncomfortable in the position I was in: it was putting and incredibly amount of pressure on my hips, so I decided to lie on my side.
Once I'd changed position I was so much more comfortable and felt much more confident about what I had to do. I was pushing as hard as I could, but the fear was holding me back and I was so tired. The midwife told me that if I didn't start pushing more effectively she would have to let the doctors know. As soon as she said this, the prospect of ventouse, forceps or even Caesarean ran through my mind. I told myself that if I can get this far with no pain relief or intervention then there was no way I wasn't going to do this naturally.
I pushed as hard as I could and his head was finally born. The midwife told me the cord was round his neck and told Craig to press the orange buzzer. I didn't panic, because as soon as she said it I knew I would push him out with the next contraction because it was vital. And I did. Henry George Tyler Gardener was born at 2:44am on Monday 7th April weighing 7lbs exactly. He didn't cry, but within a few seconds of him being put on my chest he was wriggling and began opening his eyes. I've never felt anything like it. He was just so beautiful. We delayed the cord being clamped and Craig cut the cord after a few minutes, then I was given an injection and the placenta was born within a couple of minutes. I had grazing but no stitches, as Henry was born with his hand up by his face which resulted in him scratching me on the way down.
Labour and birth was absolutely nothing like I expected it to be. It was perfect and the most incredible experience of my life. I can't wait to do it again.
Well done if you got this far and thank you for reading my story.
Kristina xx
