I bounce, hoping to bounce out this baby. Walking is the preferred action but my pelvis just can’t take walking 20 minutes out of every 30 minutes. Nor can my poor broken heel L
I want to try my best to record this day as much as I can.
After not sleeping I got up at 6.15 officially to shower but I wasted time checking email and the IVP and D woke in the interim, screaming, unwilling to be cuddles, comforted, held by anyone but a Laura
My mother took him away so I could wash and he screamed the entire time. He hit himself, her, the door, everything. Every sentence had “I want a cuddle from a Laura” in it somewhere.
There was snot & tears EVERYWHERE. Finally, after I dressed he had his cuddle with a Laura and wouldn’t let go.
On ordinary days he wants to travel in a fast car, a grey car (my mothers car is beige but he calls it grey and his seat is forward facing which he thinks is faster then rear facing).
This morning I told him he was going in a grey car, a fast car and he announced that he wanted to travel in a black car, in Laura’s car. He arched his back and refused to be strapped in. Getting him into the car was HARD work. He held my hand the whole way into town. I moved my fingers at one point and he death gripped my fingers.
When he arrived at the hospital he was not happy to be left in the car. He screamed again and said he wanted to be with me, with us, in the hospital.
Admissions didn’t have my name so it was 8.45 by the time we made it to the induction bed, the same bed that D’s arrival was started in.
VE showed my cervix was a little thick and gel was needed. Ob called in later (he had been in theatre when they “got me started”) and gave me the “I’ll be back at lunchtime and we’ll…” waffle. Of course, he shook my hand and M’s J
Now I bounce. Pains come and go. Nothing regular but there none the less. TIO’s heart beat is checked regularly and remains fine.
I have sent M away to wander and get a coffee. At least this way he is not using me to remember D’s arrival that he has forgotten and I am getting to listen to The Memory Keepers Daughter without him interrupting with a random question or observation.
Earlier he asked to be reminded what the girl name is!
He arrived back from his shopping expedition with a bag of popcorn and a baby name book.
The Ob arrived at 1pm to attempt ARM and it didn’t work. I wonder if I were not private and if he didn’t have a clinic this afternoon would any one have looked at me at 1pm, 4 hours after the gel went in? I don’t think and one would have tried.
The SpR is to come back at 3 to put in another get. I need to accept that we will again have a long birthing process as we did with D.
I feel stuck. I can’t go anywhere if my body doesn’t behave. I am afraid. Afraid my body will continue to not behave and I will end up having this baby cut out of me. I cannot make my body work, no more than I could make it stay pregnant last year. Today feel endless. I feel weak for having looked for an elective induction, that if I had waited things would have worked better, faster, whatever.
I want someone to come to me now and say “Your baby will be born at X on Y day” and then I could handle the wait, the not knowing.
The tense has changed to past because I can once again hold a pen. The SpR came at 4 and my cervix was unchanged, still too posterior to palpate. The 2nd gel went in and I was so defeated, deflated. I knew I was there for the night.
Pains came and went. Not regular, not palpable, not recordable on the CTG. TIO responded well to each one and they kept me in bed til 5.30pm in the hope of catching them on the CTG. I eventually said that I had to move because I was sore.
At 5.30pm, before I got out of the bed, the Ob came to say he would be back in an hour and if things were happening then he would break my water. The trace came off and the TENS went on. The contractions got more and more serious. At that stage I was still fully dressed, in jeans and a tshirt but during several contractions I wet myself which distressed me.
At 6.10pm I begged for an epidural and was told that I either had to be 3am or have my waters broken before I could have an epidural. She offered my pethadine. 7 million serious contractions, at least that’s how it felt, she arrived back, told me that she didn’t know that the Ob was still in the house and because he was on the way she couldn’t give me Pethadine but could offer my Gas & Air and to undress before he arrived, between the next contractions. At this point the contractions were 90 seconds apart and lasting longer than a minute so there was no “between” to get undressed in. I managed it though and as soon as my knickers were off I was into another contraction.
Gas & Air gave me something to do while we waited for him but I had to keep reminding myself to breathe through my mouth rather than using the mouth piece as a bit to bite down on and breathe through my nose.
The Ob arrived, with me sweating like a pig & begging M to make it stop & told me that between the next pains he wanted to examine me. Between what? There was no between!! There was, eventually, a between and I rolled over. He, kneeling on the bed at this point, checked me and with a very surprised tone announced me to be 8 or 9 cm. He told me he was going to break my waters, I said yes, he did it and informed me that they had to move me, for my own safety, to the labour suite. Then they presented me with a wheelchair! I couldn’t imagine getting off the bed, being able to sit in the wheelchair and didn’t want to leave the distraction of my gas & air. I was NOT impressed. I wanted to push, and I did!
As I transferred from the wheelchair that the Ob had pushed to the labour suite & into the same toom D was born in, I pulled off the TENS control unit, shoved it at the Ob and told him to do something with it, which he kindly did. I have no idea how I got onto the bed but they gave me the gas & air mouth piece again and M asked about the epidural. The Ob assured him that it wouldn’t be long before I was pushing therefore there was no time for the epidural. I wanted to push and I did. I thought I was going to poop, thought I was pooping and then heard another surprised tone saying “It’s crowning & has a lovely head of hair”. M commented that it probably had more than its Dadda.
2 more pushes for the head (and in between I was asked if I wanted to feel how far out it was… um, no thanks, I can feel every centimetre of how far out it is right now!), legs up and 2 slow pushes for the shoulders, one more for the body and he was out, 2 hours after my first decent contraction he was born.
He was called a fine baby and a grand size and I still didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl. Eventually they said it and so he, Joshua, is here. Safe and well with all fingers and my toes.
Apgars of 9 & 10 and he was put straight onto my chest and then up my shirt while the Ob stitched me up. I tore along my epi line and needed “3 or 4 stitches” to repair a 2nd degree tear. As he stitched me up I apologised for keeping him from his dinner. He said he had planned to come, break my waters, head home for dinner & come back later to birth the baby but this way he gets to go home & stay there. As he left to go home for the night he shook my hand, congratulated me & kissed me on the cheek.
J is beautiful. I am showered. He has nursed on both sides and is asleep inside my shirt in a small BGAIO and a blue crocheted hat. Have I mentioned that he is beautiful? He is so like D was when he was born.
We slept. He granted me the honour of letting me sleep under him all night and is repeating the honour now. He is so beautiful, so like his big brother.
I broke a tooth while getting him out which looking back doesn’t surprise me. Everything can be fixed or will get better on its own.
While I hold no ill feelings about D’s birth (it was not the birthing experience that I wanted but the end result was exactly what I wanted) I can completely understand the desire to “fix” your birthing experience on a subsequent baby. I spent a lot of the hour after he was born saying “and I did it myself”. I didn’t realise it would mean so much to me to have an unmedicated birth (ignoring the induction part of course) but I am so glad I did it. It is very likely that I will never have another child so if this is the final chapter of the birthing book I am glad it has ended the way it did.
Interestingly it has also “cured” M. A large part of his unvocalised fear of late pregnancy was the long over night that I had on D and the prospect of having it on J too. When I was tucked up in bed with J inside my shirt he asked me if I would do it again. I said that I would but maybe not in the morning, to which he replied “Maybe a third wouldn’t be so bad if you could get it out like that” This is the first time M has expressed a desire to have more than one child (even though we have just had our second). I am happy for the effect that this experience has had on him.