As I write this Parker is asleep in his wrap, he is six weeks old and he has his immunizations today. The morning sun is streaming in the window and the tears have already began to well. It has taken me a while to write this all down, I have tried before but a combination of having a newborn and the fact I wanted to get it all written down perfectly (something hard to do when you have post partum hormones rushing around your body) has stopped me. Now, six weeks after, it feels right. I remember the day/s with pride and joy. It certainly was a day I will never forget.
Things started to happen on Wednesday 6th September with the loss of my mucous plug throughout the day. A pregnancy massage in the evening (highly recommend) sealed the deal and at 3am on Thursday 7th September I woke to a loud motorbike going past. As I lay in bed staring at the ceiling as I had done many times before, I noticed that I had a few tightening’s in my belly. I tried really hard not to get excited as it was probably a false alarm and drifted back off to sleep.
At 4.45am I awoke again to the tightening’s and a thunderstorm.
I lay in bed listening to the storm roll over the hill, watching the lightening light up our bedroom and feeling exhilarated at the thought of meeting our little babe soon.
The early contractions were coming regularly but the weren’t painful. They would tighten and then relax again. I was calm and felt in control.
Dom was still asleep and I decided not to wake him, as I knew we had a long journey ahead.
I lay there thinking about how this could be the last time it was going to be just the two of us.
It sounds silly but during my pregnancy I grieved the loss of ‘the two of us’
I love my husband and absolutely cherish the eight years we had together before Parker arrived.
I was so excited to meet our new baby but also really sad that our time of just the two of us was going to end.
As the storm got more intense, Dom woke up. I told him that I thought I was in labor and we lay there holding hands in silence both excited and completely petrified.
The feeling of the contractions mixed with the intensity of the storm was surreal. There was an energy in the room that was filled with excitement and unknown. With each flash of lightening our excitement (and the intensity of contractions) grew.
At around 6am before our alarms had gone off, the contractions were getting stronger and I needed to start moving.
We got up and headed to the lounge where I kneeled over the swiss ball rocking from side to side. We timed the contractions. They were coming regularly and I just new this was the real deal.
The contractions were consistent but not painful. I couldn’t stop moving, rocking and swaying as that is what felt the most comfortable (I had done a lot of rocking and swaying during the whole pregnancy!)
At around 7.15am I called the midwife to let her know what was happening and asked if I should go into work (!) – I knew this was going to be a long process so thought I could kill some time. Needless to say her answer was NO! Based on the contraction timing she told me to try get some rest (hah!) and she would see us in the afternoon. Dom called into work to let them know that he wouldn’t be in and then we called my mum who lives an hour and a half away to give her the heads up.
Mum insisted on leaving right away…I think she was a little excited! Looking back now its quite funny as we all could have gone to work that day…. It was such a long process.
We still had a few things to get from the supermarket so decided it would be a good distraction to head down and do some shopping.
I got some funny looks as I would stop mid aisle as a wave of contractions came over me…things were starting to get a little more intense at this stage.
In the car park just about to hop into the car a huge contraction came over me and I stopped dead in my tracks, Dom called out “what are you doings?” he looked so confused I ended up cracking up laughing before waddling back to the car.
Back home again, mum arrived (with food!) and the contractions continued coming. At this point things were getting quite sore. I didn’t want to eat or drink (big mistake!) and I needed to really start focusing on what I was doing.
Mum and Dom get on like a house on fire so they spent the rest of the day chatting and cracking jokes at my expense! I kept on trying to focus, pacing up and down between the lounge and the kitchen and also outside too, it was a lovely sunny day.
At around 3.30pm my Midwife arrived. There was so much excitement in the air…it was really happening.
She checked and I was 3cm dilated and did a little stretch and sweep (uncomfortable but not painful). We had hoped things would start to ramp up from there and I might even have the baby that night…oh how wrong were we!
She suggested I keep doing what I was doing and try and get some rest (hah!) It was my midwifes weekend off, so the backup midwife took over my care at around 5pm. I was nervous as I had never met her before. Our appointment to meet was still a week away. Nothing like being thrown into the deep end for both of us.
People often talk about having a birth plan however my plan was just to wing it. I knew that there was nothing I would be able to do and my body would do what it wanted. I have had some friends who have had some pretty traumatic experiences and I knew that if I planned for the birth to happen one way and it didn’t end up like that I would stress out and it wouldn’t be an ideal situation.
I did however have a labour plan. I wanted to watch a movie (Matilda) and have candles going. By choosing to do something as easy and simple as this, I was able to be in control.
Dom and Mum grabbed some take-out for dinner and we put the movie on.
Although I didn’t watch much of it between the pacing, it was something I had chosen and it had happened. I felt I had achieved something and things were going as planned – something I really needed to feel, in a situation where you really are at the mercy of your own body.
The back up midwife arrived around 11pm and I instantly felt at ease. She was lovely and I felt safe and clam in her care.
We headed down to the bedroom so she could do another check on me. I was still 3-4cm…..I could have cried!
Again it was suggested I get some rest (hah –as if!), and she would return in the morning.
I lasted fifteen minutes in bed before heading back to the lounge where mum joined me as I silently paced and rocked my way through the night.
I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Even though I didn’t have a plan, this was not going to plan! I hadn’t eaten or drank anything for well over 24hours and I had also not stopped rocking, pacing and moving.
At 8am the midwife came back to check on me. Still 3cm. Cue the tears!
It was decided that at lunch time we would head to the birthing centre and she would break my waters to help get things moving along.
At 11.30am we were in the car. I had a wee burst of energy and a full face of make up on…it was time to have this baby!!
We arrived at the birthing centre full of excitement. Yay. This was it. The place I had planned to give birth and stay afterwards. The birthing suite was nice and clean, modern and a calm space, I felt good.
The midwife broke my waters. It was not what I had expected. I thought it would hurt and then there be a big gush of water but it was more uncomfortable and then a little trickle.
After my waters had broken things seemed to ramp up. The energy levels dropped. I spent some time in the shower trying to ease the pain of the contractions. I tried standing, rocking and kneeling with the swiss ball but nothing seemed to help.
I was exhausted as I paced the room.
I did not want to lie or sit on the bed as it was uncomfortable but I was so shattered I was falling asleep standing up. I would close my eyes and then jolt awake as I would start to fall.
Poor Dom and mum really wanted to help but I was in my own world. I didn’t want anyone close to me or ‘in my bubble!’ I needed to focus.
I paced the room, not talking to anyone. I held onto a wet face cloth which I would fling around in circles and then place on my forehead. I was completely ‘out of it’ so didn’t think about how funny it would look to be flinging around a facecloth until the midwife mentioned it afterwards! In my mind as I was flinging it around I was cooling it down after it had been on my head. It was a distraction that I needed, a little task to focus on.
After four hours of labour at the birth centre, the midwife checked me again.
3cm.
Soul crushing.
I knew that this meant it was time to go to the hospital. My body was not doing what it was supposed to. I needed help. I was extremely exhausted and dehydrated. I was also a ‘fall hazard’ with my little micro naps!
I didn’t even protest going to the hospital or the suggestion that I needed an epidural. I just wanted this baby out.
Dominic drove us to the hospital with mum and the midwife following behind. I can barely remember the car ride at all.
We arrived and went through to the birthing rooms…such a disappointment compared to the birthing centre! The next five hours passed in a blur. I remember having to lie on the bed at one stage to be monitored but the rest is just a haze.
We spent the five hours waiting for staff to administer an epidural.
My midwife popped out of the room for a bit and one of the hospital midwives came in. Without even saying sorry she said: “you wont be getting an epidural we don’t have enough staff” uuuummm WHAT?!
I was defeated. Dom was speechless, and mum who was completely shocked spoke up. She questioned why I wouldn’t be receiving one when I clearly needed medical intervention….the only reason we came to the hospital.
As my midwife returned there was again lots of questioning…there was certainly a lot of tension in the room and I lay there in utter disbelief.
How could they be refusing to give me the one thing we had come in for?
They basically said to us that we needed to wait it out until 7am for the new staff to come on to try our luck again (no guarantee) or if my body gave up and it became an emergency situation they would intervene….despite the fact my labour had regressed, and I was extremely physically and mentally exhausted after 40hours of labour.
After a tough word from my midwife they agreed to let her administer fentanyl via a PCA pump. I became a pin cushion as I was so dehydrated that a vein was proving hard to find. They eventually found one and put the little PCA pump in my hand. Pushing that button was like magic! A wave of relief and calm rushed over me as the pain of the contractions eased.
As a contraction came on, I would push the pump, fall asleep and wake up three minutes late in time to push the button again.
Dom later told me it was funny watching me wake up and stare at the pump waiting for the light to turn green so that I could push it again!
As I lay sleeping and being monitored my midwife watched the machine behind me peak at regular intervals….My labour was back and on track!
The hour of three minute naps had allowed my body to rest and relax and to get to 9 ½ cm.
I was told I could push in an hour. I lay straight back down and kept on pushing that pump!!
The nerves kicked in but I was ready. Being unhooked from the machine was particularly nerve racking as I was worried about the pain of the contractions but this time it was different, they felt different. My body was pushing on its own…this was it, I had no control over it now.