My Labour Story
I have always had a ridiculously low pain threshold. Stubbing my toe can produce tears. My period pains are always the worst ever! And so it's no understatement to say that I was absolutely petrified of going into labour. While I couldn't wait to discover if my husband and I had a son or daughter, the thought of getting the baby from inside me, out into the wide world just made me want to cross my legs, run and hide! Not the most grown up attitude to take, I know, but that's how I felt. My overwhelming fear was just how much it was going to hurt because getting baby out of such a small 'exit' was clearly going to be painful.
Despite my fear, I forced myself to watch Discovery Home and Health every morning to witness women in the UK and America giving birth. There was plenty of screaming, lots of blood (and other unmentionables!), a fair amount of scary looking bits of medical equipment but the end result was always the same. A beautiful baby boy or girl and the proud new mummy and daddy in tears – as was I!! As I witnessed every birth there was no denying just how amazing the whole process is. This little person who has been growing inside of you for nine months, who you have seen on the scanning screens and heard the heartbeat of decides its time to come out and then its all systems go. Baby makes its way down and mummy has to make her body do all the right things, push at the right time and what have you, to ensure it gets out. As amazing as the birthing process is, though, I had serious doubts how I would cope.
At least I had nine months to get my head around the inevitable! And, in fact, the way I went into labour possibly helped me cope far better than I had expected. So, here's my labour story.
As the weeks passed by and I was finally nearing the estimated date of delivery my concern for how I was going to manage in the delivery room was overshadowed by another more pressing worry – where and when would labour start? I remember that every time we ventured out of our flat, I would wonder to myself 'will it happen today?'. I'd be walking around some store or another with my husband and he would half jokingly say to me 'can you imagine if your waters broke here?' Of course I had imagined such a scenario and it was one that I dreaded happening. I knew that baby could decide to come whenever but I was willing it to stay put until we were in the safe confines of home. How embarrassing it must be when your waters break in public.
Of course, having been to parenting classes I was aware that waters don't always break to mark the onset of labour. I had previously assumed that was the case but the woman teaching the class explained that in the majority of births waters don't break naturally. Often they are broken by the doctors to speed labour up or they don't rupture at all until baby comes out. Either way the idea of going into labour whether it was a case of waters breaking or a sudden contraction didn't appeal. And so those last few weeks meant going out with some trepidation!
When my estimated date of delivery came and went by a week – it's silly really because even though you know it is estimated you still kind of assume baby will make an appearance on the day! - it was back off to see my midwife for a check up. On previous weeks she had noted that my blood pressure had risen. I was also sporting some lovely swollen ankles and fingers. But urine checks had been fine and dandy before so there was no major concern over pre-pre-eclampsia. Until this fateful visit, that is. Blood pressure was higher still, swelling had increased and now there was protein in my urine. Not so good. The midwife suggested I go through to the hospital to be monitored so hubby and I made our way straight there, figuring we'd be home in a few hours – a good thing too as I had left the flat in a bit of a hurry with half the ironing and half the housework still to do.
First thing they did at the hospital was repeat the urine test and it came back with a high level of protein again so next the nurse strapped my bump to a machine to monitor baby's heartbeat. She asked how active baby had been and I replied 'not a lot but then it doesn't tend to move much until the evening time'. Despite this I was given a button and asked to press it any time I felt any movement, however small. I have to admit that our joviality driving to the hospital was beginning to lessen somewhat. I was getting a niggly feeling that all was not going okay and although my hubby and I exchanged 'it'll all be fine' comments while I was hooked up to the monitor we were both wondering what was going on.
When the nurse returned to assess the results of the monitoring, she said 'well, I don't think you are going to be going home today' which sounded a little ominous. 'So you need to keep me in overnight' I asked a little perplexed. 'Oh no dear, you'll be having baby today' she replied to shocked and stunned silence from me and hubby closely followed by my mind racing ten to the dozen. Today? I was going to have the baby today? But I wasn't ready. Was I? I didn't even have my hospital bag with me and I hadn't even double checked that it had everything me and baby would need in it. Maybe I could delay this by mentioning I didn't have my bag – a cunning plan I thought! Nope. The nurse said 'daddy can pop home and get all your bits for you and in the meantime we'll take you down to the pre-delivery ward to get you settled in'. My God this was actually going to happen. I would be leaving the hospital and some point with our son or daughter.
While hubby shot off home to collect the bags, I called my Mum to let her know what was happening and I admit I cried! I was so scared and just wanted my Mum there for me. She offered, of course, but I had no idea how long the process would take. I knew I was going to basically be induced and thanks to the parenting classes understood that this meant having some gel inserted to help get things going. But I also understood that this could be a case of one gel, then waiting a few hours, then another, then waiting again. I could have hours and hours ahead of me.
The staff in the pre-delivery ward were marvellous and by the time hubby arrived back with the bags I was a lot calmer – more resigned I guess to the fact that this actually was happening. Ironically my calmer state had brought my blood pressure down and the protein levels had also dropped. So much so that I was given the option of waiting for things to happen naturally or proceed with the induction. Having psyched myself up, I figured that we might as well go for it.
And so, it was time to 'get the show on the road' so to speak and after a quick examination – which showed I was looking favourable (i.e. on the verge of popping baby out anyway) – the first gel was inserted. I had to rest for an hour and was then told to go for a walk and see if anything happened. If not, four hours later they would repeat the procedure. Off me and hubby trotted to the little gift shop in the maternity ward – the only place where we could get something to eat ( I was starving!!). It all seemed very surreal. Here I was munching away on a sarnie, chatting to my hubby all the while aware that we would be meeting our child soon.
When we returned back to the pre-delivery ward nothing had happened, no twinges whatsoever. As the ward was having a quiet night, the nurses decided to move everyone into delivery rooms for assessment. I was told that the maternity nurses there would check me over and see whether to continue the induction or let me go up to the main maternity ward to sleep and then start the whole process again in the morning. I was dreading this possibility. Did they seriously think I was going to get a wink of sleep knowing what was going to happen the following day? All I could foresee was me getting myself even more worked up and stressed. Thankfully that option went out the window!
After meeting the midwife, I felt a noticeable twinge. A little one, but a twinge none the less. The nurse felt my bump the next time I noticed this strange sensation and confirmed that something was definitely happening. There was no real pattern to these twinges though and they came as quickly as they went. As the nurse explained these small contractions could take ages to build up into anything significant and could in fact stop altogether.
It was time for the nurse to handover to the night midwife and she said that the decision may be made to give me another gel. While the handover happened, I grabbed the opportunity to pop to the loo. I waddled off to the toilet, came back into the delivery room and was being introduced to the night midwife when I suddenly felt a warm gush of water between my legs. It seemed to keep going for ever! I can remember remarking to my hubby that my slippers were filling up! I just stood there shocked, not knowing what to do.
The nurse, who had obviously seen this before, jumped into action and helped me get undressed and into my nightie. Guess I wouldn't be needing that gel after all. I was in labour.
They say that your memory of labour fades over time, particularly the pain you have endured but I can honestly say that I can remember most of what happened once my waters had broken. Any memory loss is doubtless down to the amount of gas and air I took, as it became my best friend!
Perhaps it was because my waters had broken at the start of labour but I didn't experience, like some women do, a slow build up with a contraction here, then a long break, then another. Soon after my waters broke (although they continued to trickle with each contraction – something that I wasn't aware would happen so had to check with the nurse that it was okay) the contractions started to come with more regularity and more force. There was time between each contraction to begin with – in fact I can remember that in between one I asked my husband for a bite of his sarnie as I was starving. Didn't prove to be the best idea as the next contraction came pretty swiftly after, followed by a massive burning sensation in my throat – ahh my old friend heartburn!!
I didn't have any specific birth plan in terms of what pain relief I would and wouldn't take. I was aware of all the options and because I had such a low pain threshold, I hadn't ruled out having as much pain relief as possible. That said, I wanted to see how long I could hold out. While I knew an epidural would numb the pain, the thought of having a needle inserted into my spine scared me more than the pain of labour! The midwife offered me gas and air to try in the early stages and once I had got a handle on how to take it properly (breathing out while the tube is still in your mouth) then it did seem to help. I felt a bit light-headed, even a little tipsy so tried not to take too much in.
I also had a tens machine which my hubbie and the midwife had put on me straight after my contractions started. I have to admit had my husband not been on hand to help with the tens then it would have been a disaster. I tried to control the machine myself but ended up pressing the wrong button mid contraction and sometimes ended up turning the machine off. On one contraction I pulled so hard that the machine became disconnected and I gave myself a bit of an electric shock! It's pretty hard to juggle a tens and gas and air at the same time! So hubbie took control of the tens and when he saw a contraction coming – indicated by me grabbing for the gas and air – then he would press the button for me. As the contractions got stronger he increased the strength on the tens. I have to say it seemed to work a treat and the combination of the two helped get me through.
It's weird but rather than calling them painful, I would say the contractions were just very uncomfortable. It felt like my whole body lurched and I felt an immense pressure in my back passage. Though this didn't seem right at all (after all baby wasn't coming out of there!) I was reassured that it was quite a normal sensation. I have heard some women refer to contractions as period like pains but I can't say mine felt like anything I had ever experienced before. As they got stronger it was almost like the contractions took over. My body was doing something without me consciously asking it to, if that makes any sense at all. I've just realised how hard labour is to describe!!
In the early stages of labour I did try to stay mobile, pacing the delivery room in between each contraction. remember that it wasn't long, though, before I was pretty much propped up against the bed trying to catch my breath before the next one hit. The midwife suggested trying a birthing ball. Having never been in contact with one before, I have to admit it wasn't very successful. I tried sitting on it but that didn't feel at all comfortable and when leaning over it on all fours I just ended up sliding off. We put it on the bed to see if I could lean on it from a height but that seemed just as awkward. Faffing around with the ball just made me frustrated and I guess I also took the focus off the gas and air as I really did start to feel uncomfortable at this stage.
I snapped at my husband, who was trying to help, and remember saying to the midwife, after a particularly strong contraction had hit, that I was going to need something stronger to help. The contractions seemed to be coming on top of each other and I was getting really whacked out from them. The midwife said that she would need to take a look at me before administering any pain relief and so I got up onto the bed. To my complete shock she said 'well, you are eight centimetres dilated Sharon. This baby is going to be here soon'. Too far gone for any pain relief, then, but I was nearly there.
I decided to stay on the bed from here on in. It seemed to be no time before the midwife suggested I start to push when the contractions came. It was a relief to be told I could because I really felt like my body wanted to – the pressure (again in my back passage) was so strong at this stage. With each contraction I'd bear my neck down onto my chest, take in a huge breath and then breathe out pushing with all of my might. With constant reassurances from the midwife and hubbie (who bravely took a look down there!) that I was doing well I tried harder and harder with each contraction. Only mistake I did make was to be a little over eager and tried pushing in between contractions. The midwife immediately sensed I was doing this and told me not to! You have to, as she explained, work with the contractions.
I kept pushing with each contraction; the midwife kept reassuring me but I didn't seem to be getting anywhere fast. Try pushing a bit harder was the midwife's advice so on the next contraction and the next I gave it all I had. Another midwife came in to see if she could help but despite giving all I could still no go. I guess this must have gone on a while before the midwife (who had been checking baby on the heart monitor and who I assume noticed baby was getting none too happy) said that if nothing happened on the next push then I may have to have an assisted delivery. Having been to parenting classes we knew that this meant either forceps or ventouse and although I wasn't looking forward to either priority was naturally getting our little un out safe and sound.
It seemed that within seconds of mentioning assisted delivery the room had filled with various nurses, a doctor and a resuscitation trolley. This was the one moment in the whole labour when I felt scared, but a look to my husband and his calm reassurance that everything would be okay and I knew that I had to work with the doctors and do whatever was best for me and the baby. The doctor explained that a metal cap would be placed on the baby's head and then when I pushed on the next contraction she would pull. First they had to anaesthetise me down there and make a few small cuts and then she placed the cap in.
Only problem was that as she was doing this I got the strongest contraction and I said 'Oh my God, I need to push'. 'You mustn't' was the docs response and my midwife suggested that I grab the gas and air back to try and work through the contraction. Thank goodness it worked. Once the cap was in place and the next contraction came I pushed and felt our little baby coming out. Apparently our little lady had decided to put her hands up against her face which was why all the pushing in the world wasn't getting me anywhere. She'd got herself well and truly jammed!!!
Our baby was immediately placed on my chest and my hubbie and I were told that we had a little girl. She was covered in all the obvious 'goo', her little hands and feet were still purple, her head was swollen at the back because of the cap and she had also done her first poo all over me! But none of that mattered. She was just perfect. And as I looked at her and said my first hello she opened her eyes and let out the sweetest little cry.
Surprisingly, despite crying my eyes out whenever I watch real births on tele, I didn't cry. I was just buzzing with excitement and joy. My husband and I were just grinning from ear to ear and I remember saying to him 'we have a daughter Chris, a little girl, our Lily (a name we had already chosen should we be blessed with a daughter)'. At some point in the proceedings I was stitched up 'down there' and I also delivered the placenta (I was given a special injection to help it come out easier, although it didn't work as well as anticipated and a little push was necessary to get it out. This is all pretty hazy, though, and to be honest whatever was happening in my nether regions was so not important to me. I couldn't take my eyes off our girl.
Soon it was time to give Lily a bit of a clean up (and me!!) and get her weighed (she was 7Ib 2oz) and then daddy got his first cuddle. I took the opportunity to give the proud grandparents a call to tell them the good news (I knew they would want to know as soon as possible despite it being the wee small hours). They were not surprisingly overjoyed.
After lots of cuddles and plenty of photographs it was time to get me and Lily up to the ward. Hubbie was allowed to come up with us which I thought was really good of the nurses considering it was very early in the morning. Once I was in bed and Lily was in her cot it was time to say night night to Daddy – more like 'see you in a few hours' really as he was coming back to the hospital in a matter of hours when visiting time began.
That first night I didn't get a wink of sleep. I just lay on the bed staring at this little person who up until a few hours ago resided in me. And now here she was. And it was then that I cried, silent little tears of joy that my dream of being a Mum had finally come true.
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