During pregnancy the whole 9 months was focused on the big event. All the midwife appointments, chats with friends and reading material were all about the labour. And in all honestly it never scared me. Women have been doing this since the beginning of time, we got this. I’m a big believer in that knowledge is power so I became a one woman pregnancy information machine. The things I found out just made me even more in awe of what our bodies can achieve. I loved reading birth stories and so I wanted to share mine.
So to set the scene, I had just finished work for 12 months of maternity leave. And because it was the middle of July and the outside world had become like walking into a boiler room I decided to take two weeks off before my due date. I had plans to get my nails done, go to the cinema with my mum and have a final date night as two with Luke. Oh and nap. Lots of naps. Saturday night, precisely 29 hours after I had stuck my out of office on and hung up my HR head, I went to the loo. Not an unusual event for a 38 week pregnant lady but when I returned to bed I realised it was wet. Either I was sweating litres or my waters had gone. I had to call Luke upstairs to investigate and he confirmed.
It was extremely surreal. I didn’t feel anything, no pain, no unusual movements. Suddenly my mind went into slight meltdown. I just felt dizzy whilst my mum and Luke rallied round me getting water, towels, packets of biscuits. An accumulation of 9 months of pregnancy and only now did it dawn on me that I was actually having a baby. An actual human being. Coming out of me. So I did what any normal person would do when they are going into labour. Had a shower, shaved my legs, moisturised, downloaded a contractions app and told my mum and Luke to calm the fuck down repeatedly.
After phoning the ward they said to call in whenever my contractions got to 3 in ten minutes. At this stage I hadn’t even had one. So I went back to bed. It was like waiting at the dentist for an extraction. You know the pain is going to come, you just don’t know when or for how long. And all I wanted was to get it over with. I felt strong, ready and prepared. Whilst I tossed and turned all night, Luke slept soundly beside me. Obviously he was much calmer when it came to dealing with impending fatherhood. And then nothing happened.
Sunday rolled around and I sent Luke out for supplies. Food, nursing bras and baby grows. He came back with 8 packs of popcorn. I think he was dazed and rushing in case he came home to find me birthing on the living room floor. After several calls to the maternity ward they asked me to come in. They were concerned that I was approaching the 24 hours post waters breaking and nothing had happened. So I stuffed myself into the mini cooper and we set off. Upon arrival I was hooked up to the machine and they discovered that I was two cm dilated. After getting very up close and personal with a lovely midwife I was swept and sent on my way.
Now I’m not saying that she had magic hands but I swear I started to contract as soon as we drove out of the carpark. So I settled in to an evening of watching friends and eating grapes, thinking that this labour lark was nothing to write home about. Then midway through ‘The one where no one’s ready’, shit got real. A lot of women talk about a pain in their back. Mine was right across my stomach and I couldn’t even describe the pain if I wanted to. It was just there and then I felt it ease knowing that it was coming back and next time with more intensity.
So I hopped on the birthing ball, got my lavender massage oil out and stuck on my London Hypnobirthing podcast whilst Luke rubbed my shoulders. It was all very lovely except for the horrific pain part. By 3am it all got too much and I told Luke that we needed to go to hospital. I left the house knowing that when I would return we would have our baby because there was no way I was leaving the hospital this time. We were in it for the long haul.
And then things went really downhill really quickly. My birth preferences were a birthing pool and gas and air for pain relief. Once offered codeine I almost bit the midwifes hand off and nodded my head through the pain. I hadn’t dilated any further and was running on no sleep in 36 hours by this stage. It was without a doubt the worst night of my life. With every contraction I felt waves of nausea and was sick. Around 5am Luke and my both had both small breakdowns at how helpless they felt seeing me in such pain. I, on the other hand couldn't even remember hat day it was. Unable to keep water or food down I became extremely dehydrated and by the time the day midwives came on shift I was all set to ask for a c section as I felt so weak I knew I would never be able to push this kid out.
Then entered the angel known as Sharon. She was no straight talking, tough and frankly scared me a smidge. Unlike the previous midwife who kept asking ‘what is it you’d like us to do Rachel’ I didn’t want to scream at her ‘I HAVENT BEEN TO MIDWIFE SCHOOL WILL YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO’. So that was a good start. She hooked me up to an IV for some much needed fluids, force fed me toast and didn’t even bollock me when I vomited it all back up. Then she said with a calm voice ‘How about an epidural?’ I’ve never wanted to hug someone so much. Kudos to the women who do the birthing without an epidural, honestly you are amazing, but seriously that shit is a godsend. It was amazing. After it I was a new woman, I ate a jacket potato and had chats with the student midwife about the best clubs in Brighton. They hooked me up to the hormone drip and we waited.
And then just like that 41 hours after my waters had broken. Angel Sharon said ‘You are ten centimetres, shall we try and push?’ And off we went. Until the monitors started to show the babies heart rate started to drop. The doctor came in, he was called Ian and said that unless I could push her out in 15 minutes he was coming along with his vacuum or forceps. And I really didn’t want that. I told Ian that we were doing this without his help thanks very much. I channeled my months of pregnancy constipation and pushed with all my mite. I clung onto Luke's arm as he counted the seconds. Its probably one of my fondest memories looking back on it. And within 7 minutes she was out, with the cord wrapped round her little neck. She was immediately taken to the incubator table with four doctors around her and making no noise.
Everything stood still, Luke was crying, my mum was saying how beautiful she was but I was just focusing on this tiny bundle who wasn’t making any noise. And then she let out a wail and I could finally let the breath out that I had been holding on to for what seemed like hours. And just like that, I was a mum.
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