Hugo is my third baby. My two girls are now 5 and nearly 14. I had a pretty uncomplicated pregnancy, only suffering some gastric issues which landed me in hospital early April for 5 nights. I thought I was having a heart attack, they told me it was heart burn! Ok, severe heart burn or an ulcer, we never did find out.
I had planned a home birth (not that my husband was convinced this was a good idea), but unlike the two previous births, this one wasn’t spontaneous and I had to be induced.
I was dreading this happening, as whilst on the ante-natal ward a month earlier I had witnessed countless ladies come and go after inducements. For many it was their first baby, and lots were teen mums. They didn’t cope well to say the least, and this gave me a really bad impression regarding inducement.
However, it had to be done and as I wasn’t going to get my dreamy home birth, I was keen to get going as I was 10 days over. I had gone in for monitoring at mid-day on Bank Holiday Monday 4 May 2009. They were booked up for the following 2 days and asked if I could bring my bag back and stay to be induced. I had it with me already – I wasn’t planning on going home without a baby!
I went down to ante-natal ward and had first application at about 3.30pm. I chatted to a couple of girls who were still on the ward from a month earlier – how awful to be confined for so long in hospital. After witnessing the previous inducements I was expecting things to go on through the night, and was convinced nothing was going to happen. I read my book, (Rough Music – Patrick Gale), walked around, watched the clock, didn’t eat the cardboard sandwich leftover from someone elses lunch order, and didn’t take much notice of the twinges I was having – just Braxton Hicks, weren’t they?
At 7pm I decided that we were going to be in for the long haul, and would need sustenance so after sending my husband on a recce to the hospital canteen to check it was still open, we waddled down there. Going AWOL from the ward would be fine, wouldn’t it – what could possibly happen? The only thing to get me through that looked edible was sausage, chips and beans! Sat eating, thinking things might be starting to happen, and after polishing off my food, and tiring off “Pets Do The Funniest Things” (which is not funny), we went back up to the ward.
I tracked down my midwife, she checked me out, fully dilated, ready to go, so obviously *not* Braxton Hicks – hoorah! Packed my belongings up and trundled off to delivery.
Got booked in and hooked up to monitor, told them how I didn’t want to be stuck on the bed all through labour and I DID NOT want to give birth on my back! I had this written on the front of my notes, had told my husband that under no circumstances was I to give birth on my back, and nearly had a t-shirt printed with this on. So the midwife got the picture and let me get on the big exercise ball, whilst still hooked up to the monitor. She asked why I wasn’t using the gas and air as the contractions were off the scale on the monitor. I didn’t want to start relying on it until my waters had broken, as I thought that things were going to get a lot more intense at that point. She advised that they weren’t going to get any worse than they were, so I took up the offer. I was told that staff were just doing shift change over etc and someone would be back in a minute. I think this was about 8.30 pm as that would fit in with shift change over.
When the new midwife returned I was desperate to use the toilet, you know, like really needed to go – and not for a wee! She asked if I felt the urge to push, and I replied YES, I really need the loo. “No, it will be your baby, lets get you checked”, she said. So up on the bed, and then frantic calling of another midwife, and opening of sterile birthing pack, etc. We’re on, and there is no letup between contractions now. So much so that no matter how much they all tried to get me to manoeuvre over the back of the bed off my back I wouldn’t/couldn’t move. I realised the gas and air had run out/was not working! They told me ”we” didn’t need it, I shouted “we” do. They made reassuring noises that another was on it’s way, whilst focusing on getting me to concentrate. I know I made a lot of groaning noises whilst pushing, as I could hear myself, thinking oh my god, listen to me. But I knew to just give each push all I had and not to let the baby keep going back in between contractions.
He arrived into the world at 9.10pm, weighing 8lb 5oz. We didn’t have a name for him as yet, and this was not to be finally decided until the following day. We had been arguing debating about this ever since we knew we were having a boy.
Minutes old, and still messy!!
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