Birth Story - very long!
I woke up at 3.00am on Friday 29th October, and noticed my pants were soaked through. I changed my liner for a sanitary towel and noticed every time I stood or walked round more would trickle out. It wasn't urine, it smelled kind of sweet and yeasty or bready, so I wondered whether I had a yeast infection or something. Still, to be on the safe side I woke husband and called the labour ward who advised me to come in for a check-over. So we dressed, tried to wake ourselves up, grabbed the last few items for the hospital bag and headed into the hospital (which is a 45 minute one-way trip).
Once at the ward I was taken to a room and hooked up to a foetal heart rate monitor and left in bed. The head midwife who was on duty seemed very tired but was reasuring, which was nice seeing as I was pretty much just left alone with my husband at this point. Thankfully just the day before I had been hooked up to the same monitor after being diagnosed with cholestasis, so I knew what the different heart patterns were about and that my contractions (or lack thereof) were also being monitored. After half an hour I was examined, and midwife agreed that my waters had gone but since baby was doing just fine I was to go home and wait for contractions. If nothing had started by Sunday morning I was to be induced then. I was also offered induction later that day, but said I'd rather wait for things to kick off by themselves.
So we drove home, getting back at around 7.00am. At around 8.00am contractions started, but I didn't know that's what they were at the time. They felt like a sharp pain in my pelvis, very similar to how my SPD has felt when I have spent too much time on my feet during the day. I told husband to go to work since he had a few small things to finish up and to come home as soon as he was done, but he spent the entire time he was getting ready to go out just pacing back andf forth so he stayed home with me. Good thing too, since contractions started picking up the pace and he was on hand to time them. I had a bath, sat on my ball, and fretted lots about when to call the hospital. Eventually I'd timed five contractions at 4-8 minutes apart lasting 50s to 1m, so called the hospital. Of course during the phone conversation I didn't have a single one despite them stringing out the phone call as much as possible. The midwife said I sounded quite cheerful and to call back later when they were 4-5 mins apart, strong, and lasting a minute each. By 3.00pm I was really struggling with the contractions - they were making me moan - and I'd managed to time another string of them 5-6 mins apart so I called the hospital again. This time they didn't try to hear a contraction, they just said to come in.
The car journey was hard! On my ball I was coping with contractions but in the car I had nothing to brace against and they HURT. Or rather, at the time they hurt but I think they were still very mild compared to later ones! The worst thing was being stuck in afternoon traffic nearing the hospital - I wanted to shout at the cars to speed up or get out of the way. Husband was excellent - remaining very calm on the outside even though I knew he was terrified. We were shown to a room and I bounced on the yoga ball for a bit, then got in the bath at the midwife's suggestion. Rather frustratingly, I seemed to have good contractions when left alone but never when the midwife would come in to check on me. Eventually though they agreed I was ready to move into the birthing pool which was being readied after the last lady, so I reluctantly got myself out of the bath and through to the next room.
They hooked me up to the heart rate monitor again (thankfully a wireless, waterproof one) and checked me over before I was allowed in the pool. I can't remember what time this was - probably around midnight. Contractions were coming pretty hard by now but I managed for a while before starting on the gas and air, after which everything began to blur. The gas helped me through the contractions, probably more as a distraction than anything else. It did make me feel slightly out of it, and took the edge off the pain, but wasn't exactly amazing. Later on in the night I did ask about what other pain relief there was, but when they told me I'd have to leave the pool I decided there and then that gas and air would be enough! I wasn't comfortable in the pool, but compared to the agony of labouring in the dry (and on the bed - OMG that hurt!) I was pretty happy to stay where I was! I honestly don't know how people labour out of water!
At something o'clock in the morning a doctor came in to check my progress, and artificially ruptured my membranes - turns out my hind waters had broken but not the forewaters. After that contractions really picked up a pace and got a lot more intense. I started dilating pretty quickly, and it wasn't long before the urge to push came over me - at a time when the midwife wasn't in the room! I had to get out the pool to be checked again, and was given the okay to start pushing - hooray! Pushing was hard. Really, really, hard. I felt like I wasn't making any progress. I pushed for two hours and still no sign of head. I was exhausted, and so when the doctor came in and offered assistance I gladly said yes. She went through the procedure of forceps delivery with me and the risks involved, but to be honest I wasn't paying attention at all - I just wanted her to help me delivery my baby! I had to sign a consent form (fun with contracting on the bed!) and was wheeled through to theatre. That was kind of fun, actually! All these people turned up all of a sudden, and I was given mobile gas and air and pushed through the corridors at some speed with Tom running along beside me. The theatre was full of more people - all lovely. I remember being told they love doing births because it's so much nicer for them than the RTAs they normally have to deal with. I was given a spinal block - during which the valve to my gas and air failed! It was hurridly replaced but without the in-out breathing function so I had to remove the nozzle to breath out. I managed to remain still enough curled up through the contractions, and in seconds I had gone completelt numb from the belly down - it was bliss! I was manipulated onto a different bed and my feet put in stirrups. Every time I had a contraction (someone had to tell me because I couldn't feel it) I had to push - again very strange as I couldn't feel what I was doing, but I tried to replicate what I was doing in the pool and apparently it was right because after only three contractions I had my little girl!
She was taken away by the paediatric doctor at first, but given the all-clear within minutes and placed, still covered in blood and vernix, onto a towel on my chest. I could only see the top of her head but she was breathing and I'd heard her cry and already I knew she was perfect. I told some of the staff what name we'd chosen, and husband and I were both in tears. They took her away to clean her up as I was prepped to be moved to recovery, then placed her skin-to-skin on my chest as I was wheeled along more corridors. I had started shaking from the spinal, and couldn't stop shivering which I found really frustrating! I got a lot of attention in recovery from all the nurses, since again most of the patients were elderly or infirm and a baby was a lovely addition. I think I was on the recovery ward for about two hours - my temperature had spiked to 38.7oC, my blood pressure and pulse were both very high, and I was still shaking like a leaf.
Eventually I was taken round to labout ward where they had a room for me, and for what felt like hours various nurses, midwives, doctors and surgeons came in and out checking on me constantly. I was very aware that my baby was a few hours old and hadn't fed yet, and so when she started grumbling I asked if I could try to feed her - everyone seemed very concerned with me rather than Molly! The staff agreed to let me feed, so stopped whatever procedure they were doing to let me sit up and try. She latched on first time with the midwife's help! It was amazing! We had a few suckling attempts before she really started to feed properly, but it was nowhere near the battle I thought it would be.
I had a catheter and a drip and was continuously monitored for bp, pulse and temperature. Molly was doing wonderfully - apgar of 7, then 10. Me, not so. I felt absolutely fine, just a little warm. Turns out though I'd torn and had an episiotomy, had lost an estimated 700ml of blood (later upped the estimate to 1000ml) and had been given a whole bunch of supositories, one of which I'd eracted badly to which gave me the temperature spike and diarrhea (good use of my first pp poop!). Although the these were known side effects of one of the drugs, the hospital still had to assume I'd got an infection so I was given antibiotics and fluids and generally treated a bit like a human pincushion for a while! Still, it ws nice to have a constant stream of visitors checking up on me and Molly.
Tom and I had our own room on labour ward for one night - he slept in two chairs pushed together and I wasn't allowed out of bed so stayed put. Pulse, bp and temperature were taken every two-three hours and there was always a midwife on hand to help with breast feeding and whatever else. I was declared nil by mouth in case I needed to go back to surgery for my blood loss, which was annoying as I was soooo thirsty and wasn't even allowed sips! Instead fluid was literally squeezed from the drip into the back of my hand to rehydrate me. Thankfully this status was lifted by the evening and I was first allowed small sips of water, then drinks of water, then some food! Just two pieces of toast, but it was one of the best meals of my life!
The following day visitors started arriving - my parents, Tom's parents, my brother and his girlfriend. We had more gifts of fluffy snowsuits with ears than I think any baby will have time to wear! In the afternoon I was given the okay to try and get out of bed and a bed for me was prepared in the post-natal ward. I had a bath (not anywhere near as long a one as I would have liked as the midwife kept asking 'are you okay in there?', clearly hurrying me along to my next destination). My legs were shakey and I was a little light-headed, but I could walk slowly and was ushered across the hall to the next ward. It was an open ward, and the hospital does rooming-in by default. The midwives will take the baby to settle it if needed but they do not have a nursery, which meant the ward was a bit noisy with babies and visitors. More visitors in the form of some friends, then Tom left at going-home time for husbands (9.00pm). On my own I was rather scared, and all of a sudden I found myself rather stressed by everything. Every time Molly cried I wondered what I was doing wrong. I struggled to settle her, and just leaning over in bed to rock her crib or pick her up was a massive physical and emotional effort. When I picked Molly up she was happy, but the instant I put her down she started crying again. No feeding or changing would settle her, and I resorted to calling the midwives twice to help settle her. The first time she had wind, probably from all the crying, and the second time even the midwife couldn't settle her easily (which actually made me feel better!), and I asked if I could sleep with her on my chest. Midwife agreed, propping me up with the arms on the bed and pillows and ensuring Molly was well wrapped round me with blankets. We were both much happier like that and slept until morning. I felt bad calling the midwives as the ward was busy and there were patients with seemingly much more important problems like a lady who couldn't feed her baby and someone else who had PND. I hadn't minded Molly crying so much on labour ward where I had my own room, but on the open ward I was so much more aware of how I was disturbing other people. Silly I know, since I very quickly learnt to ignore the other crying babies and only listen to Molly. The babies, too, seemed to ignore each other and though there was a lot of crying they didn't seem to set each other off like I would expect them to.
I was allowed home the following afternoon. I would have loved to stay a third night, but not on the open ward. I can understand the stress of an open ward but if I had my own room I would have stayed for a week if I was allowed! It was wonderful just having professionals on hand whenever I had any little niggling doubts or silly problems.
Once home we were in a bit of a daze, not knowing what to do with ourselves really. Molly was quiet, and we just stared at her a lot waiting for her to do or want something! The first night at home was long but didn't go as badly as I feared it might have. The second night my milk came in along with a whole bunch of hormones and I really started struggling. That day (four days old) I spent a fair amount of time up in bedc crying while husband dealt with Molly - I felt completely overwhelmed with everything. Thankfully the midwife who came every day to see us reassured me this was completely normal and I felt a lot better. Nights are getting easier as I'm finding out what Molly wants when she grizzles and how to most effectively feed her, burp her, change her.
Breast feeding is honestly the single hardest part of new parenthood. I honestly think the two of us are brilliant at it, but it's still amazingly hard work and very draining. Sometimes she suckles happily for half an hour nonstop and I feel like a brilliant mother. Other times she grumbles and fusses and won't take breast, or will fall asleep after a minute and I have to battle for an hour and a half before I think she's had enough food - then she continues to suck her hands and cry in the moses basket and I know she's still hungry. Now my milk's in my breasts are huge and hard and all of a sudden I can't feed effectively on one side. I know I have to persevere but I always want to give in and place her on the other boob when she won't drink properly or will cry too much to get a decent mouthful - plus she gums that side so it's started really hurting.
I know we'll get there. I know it will get easier. Every time I have a successful feed and she falls asleep after I know I've done a good job as a mum and it feels like another hurdle jumped.
Wow that was long! Anyway, TL:DR -
4.00am Friday waters broke, hospital sent me home to wait for contractions
3.00pm Friday contractions strong enough to go to hospital
7.00pm Friday started labouring properly in birthing pool
Early Saturday morning had fore waters broken artificially
About 10.00am? Saturday morning, after two hours pushing, was taken to surgery for spinal and forceps delivery
Molly Elizabeth Rose was born at 10.43am on Saturday 30th October, weighing 7lb 8 1/2oz.
Photos back at this post: http://community.livejournal.com/pregnant/16352067.html
Once at the ward I was taken to a room and hooked up to a foetal heart rate monitor and left in bed. The head midwife who was on duty seemed very tired but was reasuring, which was nice seeing as I was pretty much just left alone with my husband at this point. Thankfully just the day before I had been hooked up to the same monitor after being diagnosed with cholestasis, so I knew what the different heart patterns were about and that my contractions (or lack thereof) were also being monitored. After half an hour I was examined, and midwife agreed that my waters had gone but since baby was doing just fine I was to go home and wait for contractions. If nothing had started by Sunday morning I was to be induced then. I was also offered induction later that day, but said I'd rather wait for things to kick off by themselves.
So we drove home, getting back at around 7.00am. At around 8.00am contractions started, but I didn't know that's what they were at the time. They felt like a sharp pain in my pelvis, very similar to how my SPD has felt when I have spent too much time on my feet during the day. I told husband to go to work since he had a few small things to finish up and to come home as soon as he was done, but he spent the entire time he was getting ready to go out just pacing back andf forth so he stayed home with me. Good thing too, since contractions started picking up the pace and he was on hand to time them. I had a bath, sat on my ball, and fretted lots about when to call the hospital. Eventually I'd timed five contractions at 4-8 minutes apart lasting 50s to 1m, so called the hospital. Of course during the phone conversation I didn't have a single one despite them stringing out the phone call as much as possible. The midwife said I sounded quite cheerful and to call back later when they were 4-5 mins apart, strong, and lasting a minute each. By 3.00pm I was really struggling with the contractions - they were making me moan - and I'd managed to time another string of them 5-6 mins apart so I called the hospital again. This time they didn't try to hear a contraction, they just said to come in.
The car journey was hard! On my ball I was coping with contractions but in the car I had nothing to brace against and they HURT. Or rather, at the time they hurt but I think they were still very mild compared to later ones! The worst thing was being stuck in afternoon traffic nearing the hospital - I wanted to shout at the cars to speed up or get out of the way. Husband was excellent - remaining very calm on the outside even though I knew he was terrified. We were shown to a room and I bounced on the yoga ball for a bit, then got in the bath at the midwife's suggestion. Rather frustratingly, I seemed to have good contractions when left alone but never when the midwife would come in to check on me. Eventually though they agreed I was ready to move into the birthing pool which was being readied after the last lady, so I reluctantly got myself out of the bath and through to the next room.
They hooked me up to the heart rate monitor again (thankfully a wireless, waterproof one) and checked me over before I was allowed in the pool. I can't remember what time this was - probably around midnight. Contractions were coming pretty hard by now but I managed for a while before starting on the gas and air, after which everything began to blur. The gas helped me through the contractions, probably more as a distraction than anything else. It did make me feel slightly out of it, and took the edge off the pain, but wasn't exactly amazing. Later on in the night I did ask about what other pain relief there was, but when they told me I'd have to leave the pool I decided there and then that gas and air would be enough! I wasn't comfortable in the pool, but compared to the agony of labouring in the dry (and on the bed - OMG that hurt!) I was pretty happy to stay where I was! I honestly don't know how people labour out of water!
At something o'clock in the morning a doctor came in to check my progress, and artificially ruptured my membranes - turns out my hind waters had broken but not the forewaters. After that contractions really picked up a pace and got a lot more intense. I started dilating pretty quickly, and it wasn't long before the urge to push came over me - at a time when the midwife wasn't in the room! I had to get out the pool to be checked again, and was given the okay to start pushing - hooray! Pushing was hard. Really, really, hard. I felt like I wasn't making any progress. I pushed for two hours and still no sign of head. I was exhausted, and so when the doctor came in and offered assistance I gladly said yes. She went through the procedure of forceps delivery with me and the risks involved, but to be honest I wasn't paying attention at all - I just wanted her to help me delivery my baby! I had to sign a consent form (fun with contracting on the bed!) and was wheeled through to theatre. That was kind of fun, actually! All these people turned up all of a sudden, and I was given mobile gas and air and pushed through the corridors at some speed with Tom running along beside me. The theatre was full of more people - all lovely. I remember being told they love doing births because it's so much nicer for them than the RTAs they normally have to deal with. I was given a spinal block - during which the valve to my gas and air failed! It was hurridly replaced but without the in-out breathing function so I had to remove the nozzle to breath out. I managed to remain still enough curled up through the contractions, and in seconds I had gone completelt numb from the belly down - it was bliss! I was manipulated onto a different bed and my feet put in stirrups. Every time I had a contraction (someone had to tell me because I couldn't feel it) I had to push - again very strange as I couldn't feel what I was doing, but I tried to replicate what I was doing in the pool and apparently it was right because after only three contractions I had my little girl!
She was taken away by the paediatric doctor at first, but given the all-clear within minutes and placed, still covered in blood and vernix, onto a towel on my chest. I could only see the top of her head but she was breathing and I'd heard her cry and already I knew she was perfect. I told some of the staff what name we'd chosen, and husband and I were both in tears. They took her away to clean her up as I was prepped to be moved to recovery, then placed her skin-to-skin on my chest as I was wheeled along more corridors. I had started shaking from the spinal, and couldn't stop shivering which I found really frustrating! I got a lot of attention in recovery from all the nurses, since again most of the patients were elderly or infirm and a baby was a lovely addition. I think I was on the recovery ward for about two hours - my temperature had spiked to 38.7oC, my blood pressure and pulse were both very high, and I was still shaking like a leaf.
Eventually I was taken round to labout ward where they had a room for me, and for what felt like hours various nurses, midwives, doctors and surgeons came in and out checking on me constantly. I was very aware that my baby was a few hours old and hadn't fed yet, and so when she started grumbling I asked if I could try to feed her - everyone seemed very concerned with me rather than Molly! The staff agreed to let me feed, so stopped whatever procedure they were doing to let me sit up and try. She latched on first time with the midwife's help! It was amazing! We had a few suckling attempts before she really started to feed properly, but it was nowhere near the battle I thought it would be.
I had a catheter and a drip and was continuously monitored for bp, pulse and temperature. Molly was doing wonderfully - apgar of 7, then 10. Me, not so. I felt absolutely fine, just a little warm. Turns out though I'd torn and had an episiotomy, had lost an estimated 700ml of blood (later upped the estimate to 1000ml) and had been given a whole bunch of supositories, one of which I'd eracted badly to which gave me the temperature spike and diarrhea (good use of my first pp poop!). Although the these were known side effects of one of the drugs, the hospital still had to assume I'd got an infection so I was given antibiotics and fluids and generally treated a bit like a human pincushion for a while! Still, it ws nice to have a constant stream of visitors checking up on me and Molly.
Tom and I had our own room on labour ward for one night - he slept in two chairs pushed together and I wasn't allowed out of bed so stayed put. Pulse, bp and temperature were taken every two-three hours and there was always a midwife on hand to help with breast feeding and whatever else. I was declared nil by mouth in case I needed to go back to surgery for my blood loss, which was annoying as I was soooo thirsty and wasn't even allowed sips! Instead fluid was literally squeezed from the drip into the back of my hand to rehydrate me. Thankfully this status was lifted by the evening and I was first allowed small sips of water, then drinks of water, then some food! Just two pieces of toast, but it was one of the best meals of my life!
The following day visitors started arriving - my parents, Tom's parents, my brother and his girlfriend. We had more gifts of fluffy snowsuits with ears than I think any baby will have time to wear! In the afternoon I was given the okay to try and get out of bed and a bed for me was prepared in the post-natal ward. I had a bath (not anywhere near as long a one as I would have liked as the midwife kept asking 'are you okay in there?', clearly hurrying me along to my next destination). My legs were shakey and I was a little light-headed, but I could walk slowly and was ushered across the hall to the next ward. It was an open ward, and the hospital does rooming-in by default. The midwives will take the baby to settle it if needed but they do not have a nursery, which meant the ward was a bit noisy with babies and visitors. More visitors in the form of some friends, then Tom left at going-home time for husbands (9.00pm). On my own I was rather scared, and all of a sudden I found myself rather stressed by everything. Every time Molly cried I wondered what I was doing wrong. I struggled to settle her, and just leaning over in bed to rock her crib or pick her up was a massive physical and emotional effort. When I picked Molly up she was happy, but the instant I put her down she started crying again. No feeding or changing would settle her, and I resorted to calling the midwives twice to help settle her. The first time she had wind, probably from all the crying, and the second time even the midwife couldn't settle her easily (which actually made me feel better!), and I asked if I could sleep with her on my chest. Midwife agreed, propping me up with the arms on the bed and pillows and ensuring Molly was well wrapped round me with blankets. We were both much happier like that and slept until morning. I felt bad calling the midwives as the ward was busy and there were patients with seemingly much more important problems like a lady who couldn't feed her baby and someone else who had PND. I hadn't minded Molly crying so much on labour ward where I had my own room, but on the open ward I was so much more aware of how I was disturbing other people. Silly I know, since I very quickly learnt to ignore the other crying babies and only listen to Molly. The babies, too, seemed to ignore each other and though there was a lot of crying they didn't seem to set each other off like I would expect them to.
I was allowed home the following afternoon. I would have loved to stay a third night, but not on the open ward. I can understand the stress of an open ward but if I had my own room I would have stayed for a week if I was allowed! It was wonderful just having professionals on hand whenever I had any little niggling doubts or silly problems.
Once home we were in a bit of a daze, not knowing what to do with ourselves really. Molly was quiet, and we just stared at her a lot waiting for her to do or want something! The first night at home was long but didn't go as badly as I feared it might have. The second night my milk came in along with a whole bunch of hormones and I really started struggling. That day (four days old) I spent a fair amount of time up in bedc crying while husband dealt with Molly - I felt completely overwhelmed with everything. Thankfully the midwife who came every day to see us reassured me this was completely normal and I felt a lot better. Nights are getting easier as I'm finding out what Molly wants when she grizzles and how to most effectively feed her, burp her, change her.
Breast feeding is honestly the single hardest part of new parenthood. I honestly think the two of us are brilliant at it, but it's still amazingly hard work and very draining. Sometimes she suckles happily for half an hour nonstop and I feel like a brilliant mother. Other times she grumbles and fusses and won't take breast, or will fall asleep after a minute and I have to battle for an hour and a half before I think she's had enough food - then she continues to suck her hands and cry in the moses basket and I know she's still hungry. Now my milk's in my breasts are huge and hard and all of a sudden I can't feed effectively on one side. I know I have to persevere but I always want to give in and place her on the other boob when she won't drink properly or will cry too much to get a decent mouthful - plus she gums that side so it's started really hurting.
I know we'll get there. I know it will get easier. Every time I have a successful feed and she falls asleep after I know I've done a good job as a mum and it feels like another hurdle jumped.
Wow that was long! Anyway, TL:DR -
4.00am Friday waters broke, hospital sent me home to wait for contractions
3.00pm Friday contractions strong enough to go to hospital
7.00pm Friday started labouring properly in birthing pool
Early Saturday morning had fore waters broken artificially
About 10.00am? Saturday morning, after two hours pushing, was taken to surgery for spinal and forceps delivery
Molly Elizabeth Rose was born at 10.43am on Saturday 30th October, weighing 7lb 8 1/2oz.
Photos back at this post: http://community.livejournal.com/pregnant/16352067.html