widowwadman
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I'm currently absoluely zonked, because Mills refused to sleep in her basket any longer than ten minutes at a time this night and is screaming the house down if I don't hold her. Also, I guess I still have to recover a bit from the birth. The community midwife was actually amazed to see me walking around happily, and was almost shocked to hear that I've even bin to the cornershop to get a paper and show the sproglet off. Apparently most women hardly make it down the stairs 2 days after a c-section, while I'm surprised how little it hurts.
Anyway, the whole birth took me completely by surprise (although I probably was in denial for most of saturday morning....) The things I learnt are (in no particular order):
a) working until 38 weeks is not entirely clever
b) it doesn't take longer than the wait for the taxi to pack a hospital bag
c) all the romantic ideas of an intervention-free natural birth completely go out of the window when things go wrong
d) It's neither big nor clever to refuse pain relief until the 11th hour
e Nothing of the above matters anymore once you get to hold your child.
It all started with a bit of show and plug at 4:30 AM. I was convinced that I wasn't having contractions, as I didn't recognise the period-type pain as contractions. I gathered things might start over the next few days, but wasn't too worried.
My waters broke just after 1PM, and just abiut 10 minutes after Ben went into town for some more christmas shopping. I called him, thn the hospital, who asked me to come in for a uick check, then a taxi, as it all seemed not that urgent, as I felt movements and didn't think labour had started. I decided to have a shower as I had to wait half an hour for the taxi anyway and there realised that there was a green staining in the amniotic fluid - meconium.
The midwife and registrar put me onto a CTG and an oxytocine drip (no time to faff around with prostaglandins) pdq, and performed a sweep (ouch!) and that's where the fun started.
Contractions picked up but very erratically, from bearable to swearing at the top of my lungs, crying and demanding to be let home, because I changed my mind on the whole baby business. It was never possible to foresee how strong the next contraction would be.
I kept being convinced that things haven't started properly yet so refused pain relief, as I was scared of exhausting my options too early. I completely lost rack of time, but it took them a good two hours to convince me of trying co-codamol. 10 minutes after that I was on Entonox, which didn't agree with me at all and only made me feel sick and woozy but didn't relieve any pain, so I stopped using it, despite Ben and the midwife shoutimg at me to keep trying. In the meantime they also tried to convince me to use Meptid, which I kept refusing, because I was terrified of getting too drowsy. Once I had given up and agreed,I actually started begging for the Meptid.
On top of this they had trouble getting a proper trace of Millicent's heartbeat. She wasn't too happy when I was lying on my back, but couldn't keep contact when I was lying on my side. At that stage I was pretty much out of it and didnt realise whats going on. I remember Ben looking concerned whenever I had a contraction, but I thought that was because of my shouting, I wasnt aware that Millicents heartbeat dropped. They eventually stopped the oxytocin, as it didnt get me past 2 centimetres and obviously stressed my child out. As soon as the drip stopped I started feeling better and started realising what was going on. They unsurprisingly suggested a c-section, and in retrospective I can see that we were headed that way for a while already. I didnt have to think twice to consent, but I would have let them do anything, just to get my baby out safely. From the decision to actually getting into theatre and having her out probably a couple of hours went by. This was ok, though, because as soon as the oxytocin drip was turned off, the baby seemed to be doing ok.
She started struggling again after theyve performed the epidural, as I was lying flat on my back, and that was the only moment when I got really scared, seeing the heartbeat drop to below 60 and hearing the midwife saying fetal heartbeat below 60, fetal heartbeat below 60 in a quite concerned tone.
Next thing I was cut open and they lifted a very purple tiny baby out of me. She let out an immense cry immediately and apparently did not need too much work done on her. Ben actually told me that she was a girl and he held her and looked after her until they had finished stitching me up.
All in all, it was not the birth experience I imagined, but the midwives and doctors did a brilliant job and I felt well looked after.
Anyway, the whole birth took me completely by surprise (although I probably was in denial for most of saturday morning....) The things I learnt are (in no particular order):
a) working until 38 weeks is not entirely clever
b) it doesn't take longer than the wait for the taxi to pack a hospital bag
c) all the romantic ideas of an intervention-free natural birth completely go out of the window when things go wrong
d) It's neither big nor clever to refuse pain relief until the 11th hour
e Nothing of the above matters anymore once you get to hold your child.
It all started with a bit of show and plug at 4:30 AM. I was convinced that I wasn't having contractions, as I didn't recognise the period-type pain as contractions. I gathered things might start over the next few days, but wasn't too worried.
My waters broke just after 1PM, and just abiut 10 minutes after Ben went into town for some more christmas shopping. I called him, thn the hospital, who asked me to come in for a uick check, then a taxi, as it all seemed not that urgent, as I felt movements and didn't think labour had started. I decided to have a shower as I had to wait half an hour for the taxi anyway and there realised that there was a green staining in the amniotic fluid - meconium.
The midwife and registrar put me onto a CTG and an oxytocine drip (no time to faff around with prostaglandins) pdq, and performed a sweep (ouch!) and that's where the fun started.
Contractions picked up but very erratically, from bearable to swearing at the top of my lungs, crying and demanding to be let home, because I changed my mind on the whole baby business. It was never possible to foresee how strong the next contraction would be.
I kept being convinced that things haven't started properly yet so refused pain relief, as I was scared of exhausting my options too early. I completely lost rack of time, but it took them a good two hours to convince me of trying co-codamol. 10 minutes after that I was on Entonox, which didn't agree with me at all and only made me feel sick and woozy but didn't relieve any pain, so I stopped using it, despite Ben and the midwife shoutimg at me to keep trying. In the meantime they also tried to convince me to use Meptid, which I kept refusing, because I was terrified of getting too drowsy. Once I had given up and agreed,I actually started begging for the Meptid.
On top of this they had trouble getting a proper trace of Millicent's heartbeat. She wasn't too happy when I was lying on my back, but couldn't keep contact when I was lying on my side. At that stage I was pretty much out of it and didnt realise whats going on. I remember Ben looking concerned whenever I had a contraction, but I thought that was because of my shouting, I wasnt aware that Millicents heartbeat dropped. They eventually stopped the oxytocin, as it didnt get me past 2 centimetres and obviously stressed my child out. As soon as the drip stopped I started feeling better and started realising what was going on. They unsurprisingly suggested a c-section, and in retrospective I can see that we were headed that way for a while already. I didnt have to think twice to consent, but I would have let them do anything, just to get my baby out safely. From the decision to actually getting into theatre and having her out probably a couple of hours went by. This was ok, though, because as soon as the oxytocin drip was turned off, the baby seemed to be doing ok.
She started struggling again after theyve performed the epidural, as I was lying flat on my back, and that was the only moment when I got really scared, seeing the heartbeat drop to below 60 and hearing the midwife saying fetal heartbeat below 60, fetal heartbeat below 60 in a quite concerned tone.
Next thing I was cut open and they lifted a very purple tiny baby out of me. She let out an immense cry immediately and apparently did not need too much work done on her. Ben actually told me that she was a girl and he held her and looked after her until they had finished stitching me up.
All in all, it was not the birth experience I imagined, but the midwives and doctors did a brilliant job and I felt well looked after.
