I know 8 (EIGHT!) people who have given birth in the past two weeks. That, along with One Born Every Minute starting back has got me thinking about birth.
I love reading birth stories so thought I would write about Lyla's.
In my mind, I was pretty calm and serene throughout, although at one stage I do remember thinking I was dying, so that along with what Jamie has told me, would beg to differ.
So our story starts on Sunday night, a week before my due date. I woke at about 3 am for my fifth toilet visit of the night and as I lay there trying to muster up the energy to go to bathroom I felt a little trickle down my leg. Now, I won't lie, at that stage I was having pretty regular small accidents. I didn't need a nappy or anything but I could only afford to sneeze or laugh when there was a bathroom near by. But I knew this wasn't wee. I don't know how I knew but I knew. And sure enough, when I got to the bathroom I had a movie style woosh (maybe a little less dramatic) as my waters broke.
Jamie, had literally just finished working on a big project that night and hadn't got home until pretty late. I knew he was exhausted so I thought I'd let him sleep a little bit longer before waking him up.
I couldn't get back asleep so was pottering around the room and in my elephant like state I guess I wasn't that quiet. He woke up and I called the hospital who said I was to come in straight away as once my waters were gone I was considered high risk for infection.
So, after a shower and some breakfast we set off expecting to have our baby soon.
I was admitted to hospital and put on the labour ward with 8 other women who were all in different stages of labour.
My contractions hadn't started yet so they were happy to leave me to see if they would start naturally. I was checked over every two hours, and asked was I feeling anything yet.
"I dunno, I felt a bit of a twinge, is that it?", while the woman in the bed next to me was in full on labour, roaring and vomiting while they waited on a delivery ward to be free for her.
After a long 48 hours with no sleep, at 7am on Tuesday morning I was told I was being brought to a delivery room to be induced.
I had a shower, did my make up, had the chats with the nurse, listened to Joe Duffy, Jamie got a subway, and not much really happened. It started to get uncomfortable around 3pm but when I was checked I was only 2cm dilated. I was pretty sure they were wrong but didn't say anything. Then BOOM. Out of no where I couldn't move around, couldn't talk and basically thought I was going to die.
They checked me and I was almost 7cm.
The anaesthetist arrived to give me the epidural, (this is where my story varies from Jamie's) I was really good, and stayed incredibly still. (Jamie says I was shaking, had to be held down and was soaking wet from sweat)
I called the anaesthetist my hero repeatedly and then got into bed, where I was able to snooze for the first time in three days. When I was told it was time to start pushing I wanted to tell the midwife to piss off. I could have stayed there forever!
The pushing was grand. 12 minutes start to finish. No tears, or stitches. (Thank you squats and kegals) and our not so little (8 pound 10) Lyla was born at 8.51pm on Tuesday evening.
I'd love to say I was overcome with love and emotion but I was very much in a state of 'oh shit, I have no idea what to do with a baby'.
We got to spend a couple of hours alone in the labour ward admiring this tiny human we had created, which was lovely. Then I was wheeled back to the ward as my epidural hadn't worn off. (It didn't wear off for another 8 hours - Nightmare - TMI my catheter bag thing totally overflowed and a nurse had to mind me at the shower)
Once back on the ward, I was quick to call over the nurse to explain to her that I had no idea what I was doing so to keep an eye on me.
We spent another long 48 hours in the hospital, before being discharged. When they said we could go I cried, not with happiness but with fear because I was leaving my safe little bubble of support in the hospital. Within two hours of being discharged I had rang them twice with concerns and when I didn't like the answers I was getting I got Jamie to call. Lolz.
And that's our birth story. Fingers crossed the next one won't be so long!
I was admitted to hospital and put on the labour ward with 8 other women who were all in different stages of labour.
My contractions hadn't started yet so they were happy to leave me to see if they would start naturally. I was checked over every two hours, and asked was I feeling anything yet.
"I dunno, I felt a bit of a twinge, is that it?", while the woman in the bed next to me was in full on labour, roaring and vomiting while they waited on a delivery ward to be free for her.
After a long 48 hours with no sleep, at 7am on Tuesday morning I was told I was being brought to a delivery room to be induced.
I had a shower, did my make up, had the chats with the nurse, listened to Joe Duffy, Jamie got a subway, and not much really happened. It started to get uncomfortable around 3pm but when I was checked I was only 2cm dilated. I was pretty sure they were wrong but didn't say anything. Then BOOM. Out of no where I couldn't move around, couldn't talk and basically thought I was going to die.
They checked me and I was almost 7cm.
The anaesthetist arrived to give me the epidural, (this is where my story varies from Jamie's) I was really good, and stayed incredibly still. (Jamie says I was shaking, had to be held down and was soaking wet from sweat)
I called the anaesthetist my hero repeatedly and then got into bed, where I was able to snooze for the first time in three days. When I was told it was time to start pushing I wanted to tell the midwife to piss off. I could have stayed there forever!
The pushing was grand. 12 minutes start to finish. No tears, or stitches. (Thank you squats and kegals) and our not so little (8 pound 10) Lyla was born at 8.51pm on Tuesday evening.
I'd love to say I was overcome with love and emotion but I was very much in a state of 'oh shit, I have no idea what to do with a baby'.
We got to spend a couple of hours alone in the labour ward admiring this tiny human we had created, which was lovely. Then I was wheeled back to the ward as my epidural hadn't worn off. (It didn't wear off for another 8 hours - Nightmare - TMI my catheter bag thing totally overflowed and a nurse had to mind me at the shower)
Once back on the ward, I was quick to call over the nurse to explain to her that I had no idea what I was doing so to keep an eye on me.
We spent another long 48 hours in the hospital, before being discharged. When they said we could go I cried, not with happiness but with fear because I was leaving my safe little bubble of support in the hospital. Within two hours of being discharged I had rang them twice with concerns and when I didn't like the answers I was getting I got Jamie to call. Lolz.
And that's our birth story. Fingers crossed the next one won't be so long!
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