The last trimester of pregnancy was good in that I felt well, productive and happy. But things kept going a bit wrong. My baby was rather lazy and we had to be monitored nearly every week due to reduced movements. Towards the last few weeks Bub also slowed in growth so we were having scans every week.
The last growth scan we had was on a Friday morning at 39+5 weeks, where I hadn't felt the baby move in hours. I was panicked and stressed. The scans were running late and I was convinced something awful had happened. We eventually got seen (after I cried in the waiting room and Mr Newbs got a bit stampy) and things looked okay. The baby didn't move during the scan though and hadn't grown a lot since the last time. We had to wait and see a consultant, who asked if it was okay to induce me as they felt the baby needed to come out. After a giddy discussion we decided we'd rather worry about Bub on the outside than on the inside, so agreed. We were admitted to the antenatal ward and then went to lunch.
Hospital food isn't too bad at the West Suffolk although I don't remember what I had. What I *do* remember is walking down the steps to get the last few things from the car and wondering if I'd wet myself. Every step I took I kept feeling like I'd peed so I called to Mr Newbs, who was ahead of me due to my waddling, and told him I didn't know if I was weeing or not. He found this hilarious. Once back up on the ward (in new knickers, which were completely redundant it turned out) I sat on the bed and just kept "peeing". The midwives asked me to wear a maternity pad which I soaked through in minutes. They told me my waters had broken! All by themselves! Baby didn't want to be induced.
Things happened incredibly quickly from this point. I started to get contractions within the hour (maybe, time went a bit wibbly for me after this. Might get Mr Newbs to do a guest post with some Proper Facts) and they ramped up almost immediately. I remember wanting pain relief but not being able to transfer to the Labour Unit as they were full. I was surprised at how little I could move. I was basically curled up on my side in the bed and I'd started moaning through the contractions. All of this was completely involuntary and I had little control over anything. Thankfully I just went with it.
The midwives wanted me to walk over to the Labour Unit but I was adament that I couldn't, so they wheeled me round. From here on I really remember very little. I had to be weighed in case I wanted pain relief, when this happened I'm not sure. I stayed in the same position as I'd been on the antenatal ward. At some point I decided I wanted to try kneeling. Mr Newbs and the midwife had to assist this move, and I nearly immediately realised it was worse so turned back on my side. The baby had a heart rate monitor on its' head which was attached to my thigh (it had to be monitored throughout because it hadn't been moving) which also made changing positions difficult.
I used gas and air as soon as I was in the bed on the Labour Unit and it felt like I asked for an epidural almost straight away. I was given pethidine in the meantime, which completely chilled me out. I've been told since that it works differently for everyone, but for me it meant that I really went in to myself during the contractions and lost all conscious thought. I was only "with it" in between contractions, which makes telling this story really confusing! I didn't end up with an epidural and to be honest, I'm glad because I didn't need one. However the only reason (as far as I knew at the time) for this was because they couldn't get the cannula in my hand. I think they tried about six different places and at least two doctors. I had bruising for about four weeks afterwards and I still have some of the marks from this! It turns out that as well as this, my husband and the midwife were holding off on the epidural as they knew that I really hadn't wanted to have one. I didn't know what to think when I was told this a few weeks later, as it HURT and I felt like I needed it at the time.
One of the other things that I remember is that I couldn't hear what the midwife was telling me; I could only focus on Mr Newbs and I could only hear his voice. You know that bit in Come Fly With Me where they are training Tommy on the tills at Happy Burger (or whatever it's called)... Yeah, like that...!
I also remember "coming to" and realising that I knew a lady who was in the room! I freaked her out by suddenly announcing that I knew her and I named her sons. She's a friend of my mum's and I hadn't seen her in years. Turns out she's a senior midwife and she ended up being in the room when my baby arrived.
Weirdly, when I was 10cm dilated and ready to push, I was completely with it again. I knew the contractions were different and the atmosphere in the room changed. I tried pushing on my side, holding my thigh back with my hand. Nothing. I tried on my back and I think I had people pushing my legs back, or that could have been later. I'm not sure how long I was pushing but all of a sudden the baby's heart rate dropped and it needed out. We had a lot of people in the room with us at this point - I think we had several midwives, including my mum's friend, a couple of doctors and a neonatal doctor. Possibly more, who knows.
My legs were put in stirrups and I was told I HAD to get the baby out. I was exhausted and I couldn't feel anything happening when I was pushing. It was then taken out of my hands. I think I was given a local anaesthetic and I was cut (which previously had been one of my worst nightmares, but actually in that moment I was so worried I'd have done anything to get the baby out). They popped a ventouse on the head and pulled. Nothing. They then used forceps, this was the first time that I actually felt the baby moving down. It was almost a relief and yes, like a big poo! The head was delivered at 00.01 on Saturday 14th November (turns out I'd had a back to back labour, no one knew which is why the ventouse didn't work as it was put on the wrong part of the head!) followed by the rest of my baby at 00.05.
We had hoped to have the baby lifted to my chest, find out the sex ourselves, immediate skin to skin and breastfeed while I delivered the placenta naturally. What actually ended up happening was the cord was cut straight away and the baby was taken to be checked over. We didn't know the sex for at least half an hour (I think!). The doctor then started to bring the baby over to us and accidentally said "he"! I didn't care that he'd spoiled the surprise, I had a son! I didn't get the first skin to skin as I was worried about dropping him while I was being stitched up. Instead he had cuddles with his Daddy.
Oh, this makes my heart ache <3
I had ended up tearing as well as being cut so had to be checked to make sure I hadn't.. err.. been ripped end to end.. or something! Then I was stitched up and eventually given my baby to hold. We'd been toying with Isaac for a boy for months and months, and only a few weeks previously had suddenly added in Jasper as an afterthought. As soon as we saw him though, he was Jasper. He just was. He took to breastfeeding immediately and nursed for about an hour! I should've known then what I was getting myself in for! There are no immediate photos of me that I am willing to share (I look huge, sweaty, exhausted and I'd burst loads of blood vessels in my face!) but rest assured that our first family photo is ridiculous..!
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