ChiddyBear's Birth-Story (Part 2)
3am - Braxton Hicks contractions transition into real labour contractions. I start losing mucus plug.
5am - Unable to sleep. Contractions start getting stronger. Mama and I discuss our options.
6am - I call my husband to come home quickly because things are really starting.
I also call birthing centre to inform them I am in labour and might be coming in. Midwife on duty asks me to take paracetamol and only come in if it gets unbearable. I think she is nuts because there is no way paracetamol can touch the pain I'm in.
7am - Hubby gets home from work and we leave for hospital.
There is so much traffic and I am in toe-curling pain. I am breathing through the contractions, which in my mind cannot possibly get any stronger. Jesus!
7.30 - 8am - We get to triage and I'm placed on monitors by the midwife. She says, "Wow! You're having really intense contractions. I'm going to check your cervix"
She checks. Only 2cm dilated. I don't know how effaced I was. She is about to send me home to return when labour is more established when she discovers that the foetal heart rate is decelerating with every contraction. She is a little worried so she admits me to Labour Ward for further monitoring.
8am - We're given a room in labour ward and I start using Entonox (gas & air) to help with the pain. Hydrotherapy went out the window. Too much pain to sit still in water or anywhere else. I sit, I stand, I walk, I kneel, I dance a little, laugh with Mama and Hubby, listen to my worship playlist, have some hot chocolate and go to the loo a few times.
1pm - New shift of Midwives. One of them checks me. Still 2cm. WHAT THE HELL?! These contractions are going to kill me. Baby's heart rate seems to have stabilised. Midwife suggests Pethidine as this could be a very long labour. I agree to Pethidine. Pethidine, for me, is like taking paracetamol for a broken bone. It does nothing but make me throw up my hot chocolate.
I am transferred to antenatal ward because labour isn't progressing fast enough and other women need beds.
4pm - Nurse in antenatal ward notices heart rate decelerations again and transfers me back to labour ward.
5pm - New shift of Midwives. Two lovely Midwives, Emma and Nicola walk in. I think they are angels because of how kind they are to me. By this time the pain is so much, I'm slipping in and out of consciousness. From here on everything is a blur.
Emma checks my cervix. 4-5cm dilated, completely effaced. This is good. Baby will be here soon. Foetal heart rate decelerations still source of concern. She calls for a Doctor.
6 - 7pm - 7cm dilated. Pain is so intense I think I'm going to die. Emma breaks my waters. There's a bit of meconium which means baby has done his first poo inside. Sign he's in distress.
Consultant steps in and does a quick test. Baby not getting enough oxygen. Suspects baby has cord around neck. Emergency C-Section best option for me and baby. "I don't mind Doctor. Please bring him out!"
7pm - Prepared for C-section. Catheter fitted, drips set up, I kiss Mama. "I'll see you soon." I'm wheeled into theatre, the pain is crushing. Hubby is shown where to change for theatre. Theatre is bloody cold. I shiver and curl up in pain. Nicola encourages me to breathe through the pain. I do. I'm so numb and alert all at once. Someone says they need to remove my nail polish. I tell them good luck as it's not regular polish but UV gel. Everyone laughs. They work around it and don't have to take it off. Epidural is administered. Pain becomes non- existent. Note to self: have next baby with epidural. That stuff is bloody magic!
7.52pm - My baby is born! He cries almost immediately. His voice is so tiny. I burst into uncontrollable tears. Hubby is trying to be strong but I can see he is overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions. He takes pictures. Cuts the cord. Baby is cleaned and checked and brought to me for skin to skin contact. He is so tiny. He weighs 2.514kg (5 Ibs 9 ozs) and is 54cm (21inches) long. I fall instantly in love. He has hair. YES! He's beautiful in every way. I thank everyone profusely. I cannot believe that we're both alive and well. I say a silent prayer of gratitude to God.