I know there is a disclaimer in the title, but I just wanted to say that my story might upset some people.
From the first contraction until birth was just over 80 hours for me. It started Sat morning with a bloody show, then contractions all day (ranging from 10 minutes to 45 minutes apart, but long ones). I got about 2 hours of sleep that night. Then my waters broke at 4:30am and we called the hospital, who asked us to come in. But I was only 2cm dilated so they sent me home...
All day Sunday labored with contractions every 6-20 minutes apart. Slept 2 or 3 hours broken up that night. Couldn't eat much food.
Monday morning went to see midwife (was a regular scheduled appointment). She took my blood pressure and it was too high. So she sent me to the hospital, where they monitored me for 40 minutes. All this time I was having contractions and was exhausted. They told me to come back in a few hours so they could induce me (due to high BP and waters having been gone 24+ hours).
Monday evening went in, but they were full. Labored in the waiting room. By this time he was back-to-back and the lower back pain was excruciating. Finally they got me a room but they were swamped with people so they pushed the induction back until later. Gave me gas and air but DH and I didn't really know how to work it. I thought I had to take a few puffs only... and when it didn't work I just thought it was having no effect on me
We were in that room for over 12 hours with no relief. They had to put me on IV antibiotics due to waters having gone 48+ hours ago. By this time my back just felt like it was totally on fire at all times and I hadn't slept for days. DH was at his wits end and all around outside there were women screaming in agony as they gave birth. They were so full and so understaffed that we didn't even get checked on unless we asked for updates. There was even a woman in the hallway laboring in a wheelchair...
They were that overrun.
So from 7pm to 9am it was really bad. I actually thought... in the Dark Ages, I would be one of those women who died because the baby wouldn't come out.
At 9am, or thereabouts (I was out of it, completely, by this point, I have never been so exhausted), they finally got a midwife to see me. I had gone from 2cm to 3cm during that whole time
I finally broke down and asked for an epidural. Thank goodness it worked, it worked 100%, and they put me on a drip to induce contractions. By this time it had been ages since my waters had gone, and my blood pressure was sky high (180/100 or so I think) due to stress and PIH.
I dilated from 3cm to 10cm between 10am and 5pm and between the epidural and finally learning to use gas and air properly, I even got a bit of sleep. I just felt like a bump on a log lying there not feeling anything but pressure in my pelvic area.
Anyhow to make a long story short, they told me to try pushing. I started, and overheard a midwife saying something about forceps and thought hell no am I having
those near my hoo-ha, and so I PUSHED and he came out in 40 minutes.
Got a 2nd degree tear from that
But it healed up with regular short baths with tea tree and lavender oil.
I guess the worst part of it all is... I know 80 hours is a statistical outlier, that it's improbable, that it likely wouldn't happen again with a second child. But I just don't know. And I'm not sure I'd have the strength to go through it again. I was like a little old lady afterward. I needed so much help and it took so long to get back on my feet and have energy again. Only in the past few weeks have I felt "normal" again, able to exercise vigorously and go places again. I feel like I was pushed (partly by DH's family, partly by myself) to spring back immediately after the birth like nothing ever happened.
I have to say the health care afterward was really nice, I have had great midwives and HVs. I just had so many health problems (including a kidney infection) that I just look back on it all and think... how did I make it through? I have to say it even affected my ability to bond. For the first few days I was so tired and hurting that I felt like I was on autopilot and it was only after the first week that I really became attached emotionally. Sounds horrible, doesn't it? But it's true, and I never expected it to be that way... all the books and everything never mentioned it. When they dropped him on my chest all I could feel was relief that it was done, and relief that he was ok, and faint surprise that I was still alive.
I really love him 100% with all my heart. But it took a few days to get there. And I can't help wondering if it had been different, would the first week have been different? Easier perhaps? And also I am so grateful for modern medicine... if it had been another day and age, I would probably not be writing this.