Due Day

Today was due day and at some point last week I had a feeling I’d be blogging about the things I couldn’t wait to be done with about pregnancy, for the record; the inability to cuddle James properly, not being able to bend in the middle, adopting a funny walk to deal with the weird shooting pains in my groin for the last 2 or 3 weeks and mainly the impatience to meet our new arrival.

However, I can report that actually she, Genevieve Louisa Doherty, arrived on Friday, 4 days early (thank you baby girl).

With James I documented his “birth story” so I feel it only fair to do the same for Genevieve…

I woke Thursday (30th) with the usual backache and went about my morning with Pip and James - meeting a man about some fencing and booked it in for the following day and a trip to Shirley to order a net curtain - and chilled out in the garden with James in the afternoon.  

About 6pm I took some painkillers and stuck a hot water bottle down my back and around 8 I messaged Pip to say I had had a couple of contractions, to quote my message “these could have leapt to 10mins apart, breathing through and don’t need TENS yet and they are quite short, will call mum now”.  

Mum had mentioned previously she’d rather know in advance of twinges so she could head down to us and stay over rather than receive a call at 2am I let her know the situation.

Pip was home by 9 and we sat down to watch a bit of tele while monitoring any progress.

As I had spent more than one occasion in the last few weeks convinced it was all kicking off (it seems our impromptu visit to the hosp a few weeks earlier had caused some neurosis to kick in) I was semi-sure this was nothing to worry about but called mum back at 10 to say it wasn’t going away and she said she’d head down.

By half 10 the contractions were coming every 5 min but were not particularly strong, so we called labour ward (as advised re the 1 in 5) but as I was pretty perky on the phone and “not exactly in heavy labour” to quote mum, they said to stay mobile - I’d already spent most of the evening on the ball - and to call back when they were 3 min apart, as we were so close to the hospital they felt we could go that close.

I decided a walk round our block was in order and 10/15 mins later when we arrived back home (it was a slow walk) I was every 3 minutes and requiring the TENS.

We called labour ward back, packed up chargers, cameras and food supplies and headed off to the hospital.

We were signed in by Katie, our midwife (a talker and I realise that’s rich coming from me) but she had to pop out and deal with early twins before she could asses me fully, while we waited  Pip and I started a game of scrabble and chatted about how long we were likely to be here etc.  

When I was finally assessed about 1am I was a mere 3cm and felt utterly deflated.  Katie thought we’d probably have a baby by 6/7am and the thought of labouring another 5 hours was not overly appealing.  I had a very frightening moment of “I cannot do this” before common sense kicked in and I told myself really it was too late for that and I simply have to get on with it.  

Katie advised us to wander the corridors, very much like the women I have watched on One Born Every Minute and assured us many women get going quite quickly etc. etc. and left again to deal with her twins and to find me a ball to bounce on.

Off we set up and down the corridor,  smelling the take-put pizza the staff were enjoying (at 2am) and stopping every few minutes for me to breathe through a contraction.  We popped back to the room for some food and had a student midwife (Luci) join us along with a Dr to insert a cannula ready for a drip I may need post-delivery.

The reason I was on labour ward this time (rather than a birth centre - our preference) was because of the blood loss I suffered post-delivery of James.

We chatted to them, though I was a touch more communicative in between contractions, and then I realised that my waters had gone.  Hurrah!!  As I required assistance with this for James I was pleased that they had gone of their own accord this time.

Little was I to know that this meant everything intensified, very quickly.  Pip and I aren’t sure quite what time my waters went but my contractions definitely shot to a different level soon afterwards, which meant chit-chat stopped and unusual noises started being omitted by yours truly!

After a while Luci and Pip apparently exchanged a few “looks” and Luci went off to find Katie with a sense of urgency as I understand it now!

From this point onwards my recollection probably isn’t the most reliable but I recall a few more contractions on the ball with more odd noises and a serious lactic acid reaction which had my hands seize up.  

I had Pip trying to bend my fingers to get some movement back and Katie telling me to try and breathe through my hands to deal with the carbon dioxide issue.  I can tell you that trying to cover your nose and mouth with hands in a spasm is Not as easy as you might think, especially when you have a gas and air tube “glued” to your mouth.

The next step I can remember was Katie suggesting that I might be better on the bed ready to push (pre- intense labour I had hoped to be a touch more excited about reaching this point, when I had James the process was much longer and I opted for an epidural which while it took the pain away I lost this achievement too).  Anyway, somehow I was up on the bed hanging over the top of it gas and air tube still clamped in my mouth, though likely supported by Pip and Katie telling me to go with what my body wanted to do and push.

Now pushing, again last time, I had no feeling from the waist down, I seem to recall telling the midwife my backside could be hanging off my ankle I had so little sensation.  

This time more than made up for last time.  

I won’t go into heavy detail but Holy Moly Mother of Everything.  Both Pip and I were amazed at the slightly “carnal” noise I managed to make and also my ability to bury my head in the top of a hospital bed mattress….

After the first push Katie was telling whoever was listening  - arguably not me at that point - that she could see a little bit of head.  A little bit???  I felt like I’d pushed it out already.  There was more work to do?!  Oh dear….

Off we went again, and “hair, I can see quite a lot of hair” (jolly good).

Then about 4 or 5 pushes later I delivered the head (3.36am) and after being told to pant (not the most natural thing to do) and give small pushes (small?) the rest of Genevieve delivered at 3.37.

Boom, my daughter lie there on the bed.

It was a bit shocking to be honest, all over and done with with the most incredible pain, the effort and the sensation of the delivery.  Incredible, amazing but painful.   Did I mention the PAIN?

But we had our daughter, a small bundle with a shock of dark hair.

It seemed to be over so quickly, I think even Katie (veteran midwife who chose to work the night shift permanently as we found out later) may have been a little surprised given her earlier 6/7am prediction.  

I spent a little while being tidied up - which involved a running commentary from Katie which I simply had to stop as it was too much information -  while Pip got extended cuddles with G and after a while I was sent off round for a bath (sluice).  Now a bath might sound like a fairly normal thing but as a mum who was unable to the leave the bed for several hours last time and walked like John Wayne for days after the event the thought of hopping down and wandering to the bathroom was a little alien to me.  In fact the thought of simply moving at all wasn’t overly appealing - don’t you know I just pushed out a baby?  and it was painful….

So Katie pandered to my slight nervousness and brought me a wheelchair to take me the 20 feet to the bathroom and Pip assisted me in (I have to lift my leg into the bath?) as I bathed (sluiced) I realised that actually everything felt much better than last time and that I could already bend down (HURRAH) and move more freely than last time.  So I manned up and walked - in a vaguely normal fashion - back to our room.

To be continued...