Happy Monday everyone! Today I'm going to tell the birth story of my second child, Bear (or Baby Bear as we call him as he's currently such a squidge). He was long-awaited as everyone was so sure he would arrive early...but was in fact thirteen days overdue (and only came then because he was forcibly evicted), so here's his little slice of drama...
If you're a regular reader of my blog, you'll know how desperate I was to have this baby out of me, but as my midwife kept saying...I was too good of a host and he was clearly very cozy in there. I really didn't want o be induced, in fact, I was terrified of it and the after care I might receive as a result of ending up at the Conquest hospital in Hastings. I tried everything to get the little pudding out but no such luck sadly and so on the morning of Saturday September 7th, the husband and I found ourselves doing a 7am ASDA run for snacks, magazines and treats after dropping Moo off for a very tears goodbye.
We arrived not long after eight and were almost immediately shown to the room on the pre-natal ward that was for women being induced. There were two others there; another woman from Eastbourne who was being induced early because of problems with her loos pressure (poor thing, she was quite poorly) and a young girl from Horam who was really unimpressed at the fact shed been there 24 hours and nothing was happening for her. I got the impression she was quite young from her attitude (she was also a smoker, ick).
I was given the prostin and left to my men devices, we witnessed the other lady (who was on the drip) go into labour and head off for delivery, leaving us to watch bad TV on the ridiculously-charged screen above the bed and entertain ourselves. Food was disgusting, husband had to fend for himself...we took a couple of walks but it was freezing, ended up in the coffee sop spending more money than needed.
At some point in the late afternoon I started to get pains but they were nothing much to write one about...and by 7pm husband suggested he go home and get some rest in case he had to return in the middle of the night (they were going to kick him off at 9pm and the drive is about 40mins). I said that was probably a good idea, not much was happening, so off he went, leaving me alone, feeling a bit sad and teary but I figured I too could use the sleep.
Half an hour later or so things started getting a bit painful so I wen and asked for some paracetamol. It had no effect so about nine I buzzed for the midwife...I was in quite a bit of pain by this point and running my own back through contractions (which is very difficult). She examined me and said I was only 2-3cm and that it might not be 'real', she'd get me a script for some pethedine. I said that was fine though when she returned, it was without the drugs, saying all the doctors were in surgery, I'd have to wait. So wait I did and it was agonising. I'm convinced she still didn't believe I was in labour. Ninety minutes after she examined me, she finally brought the injection and administered it without re-examining me (this is where I think thins started to go wrong). She reassured me that if it was real t would take the edge off, if it wasn't it'd knock me out and I'd get good sleep ready to try again tomorrow. Did it knock me out? Yes...but each contraction re-awoke me and they were agonising. I buzzed again, begging for help (this is where I totally lost my dignity and I'm so ashamed) and she agreed to monitor me. I'm not really sure what happened next, I know that at one point I was asking someone to get my husband, pleading with them that I needed him and I was in and out. All I know is that the midwife was shaking me awake to tell me a midwife had come from labour with a wheelchair to take me to delivery and that I could call my husband (from my own phone, charming) when I got there and found out what was going on. Like I said, my dignity was completely gone by this stage, I was moaning and begging for help and whining like a child (seriously, I'm so embarrassed)...and as I was being wheeled I felt the desperate need to push so I said 'I really need the toilet...I don't want to poo myself'. They started to wheel me a little faster and when I got in the room I rushed to the bathroom, being called out to by my new midwife to 'please be careful'.
Collapsing on the bed, really unsure of what was happening, the midwife told me to call my husband before she examined me...I think she could tell I was close. So I rang his mobile twice and got no answer so bit the bullet and called the landline without a clue what the time was (it was 12:54am), this waking my daughter, husband, mother-in-law and her partner. I shouted 'you need to come now' at my husband before hanging up on him...I had to follow with a text that read 'delivery' so he went to the right ward. Smooth. I know.
I was then examined and panic ensued. My midwife turned to to her student shadow and told her to get more help and a doctor, the baby's heartbeat wasn't right...and I remember not panicking, just thinking that I was so desperately out of control of it all...as the doctor came in and a floor of other women, my midwife told her that I was fully dilated, waters 'bulging' (I know...ew) and that the heartbeat was at fifty. The doctor instructed her to break the waters and at that point I started to tell about pushing, she very calmly shrugged and said 'well go on then'. The normal me probably would've punched her for being so incredibly blase about the whole thing.
With three pushes and at 1:06am Baby Bear entered the world, seven minutes after I was examined and twelve after I was permitted to call my husband. Remember I said home was forty-minutes away? Yeah...my husband missed the whole event...ran in twenty-five minutes later to a lot of blood, a lot of people and both his wife and baby in shock. He was slightly unimpressed, mainly because he was distressed at the thought of me doing the whole thing 'alone'. At 5am they transferred me to the post-natal ward and my husband was asked to leave to return at 9, so he drove home. Again.