The labour story
Well, this time two months ago today Little Squeak was well on his way, I can't believe it, or that it has taken me two months to get this post written! All in all things went well labour wise, I had the natural drug free birth that I wanted and the whole process was only 7 hours - the first couple of which I wasn't completely convinced were even the real thing! It all went something like this...
At 2pm on Tuesday May 16th our car was finally delivered after a two week wait, so to celebrate Mum and I went to the supermarket to do a big shop
(for those of you in NZ believe me here in London the luxury of going to the
supermarket in the car is not to be underestimated!). By the time we
got to the check out at 3.30 I was having the odd cramp that made me
pause for thought slightly, but I had had a few of them the Sunday
before and nothing happened then so I figured it was just more
practice. We got home just before 4pm and I headed off to a pre booked
acupuncture appointment feeling slightly odd! During the treatment the
'cramps' started to happen every 5 minutes, but they weren't that bad
and although I was starting to think that it might be beginning for
real I wasn't convinced. As I was leaving the acupuncturist asked if I wanted him to call Mike or my mum, but I breezily said "no, no I'm fine, I only live up the road", although I think I also apologised for being a bit spaced out, so clearly I should have known something really was up! Little did I know that a mere (in 1st labour terms at least) 6 hours later I would have my baby! I walked the 3 mintues home quite slowly stopping once on the way to focus on a contraction, although I still wasn't calling them that just yet. We let Mike know he should come home and by the time he got back at 5.30 it was all underway.
The next hour and a half are slightly hazy and time passed very squickly, to be honest if you told me it was only 20 minutes I'd believe you. I had a 'show' (a very text book sign of labour starting), had a bath, breathed through the contractions as they got stronger and stronger, and threw up everything I'd eaten that day rather spectacularly (including half a pineapple - said to help bring on labour, perhaps it's true). In between contractions I remember talking quite lucidly on the phone to the midwives at the hospital about when to come in, they kept putting me off and suggested I take some paracetamol (I can't imagine it would have any effect at all), have a bath (already had) and keep walking to keep things moving (could barely walk - it was clearly moving fast!). I kept feeling that things might be going faster than they thought but tried to follow their instructions as I really didn't want to be one of those women who goes in to hospital convinced she's on the way only to be told she's not even 1cm dilated and to go home again! Luckily for me my mum was watching me closely and realised that we should probably go to hospital sooner rather than later, and so we eventually told them we were coming in whether they liked it or not.
The car journey there was pretty awful - I was on all fours in the
back seat with my head in a pile of towels in Mum's lap and my bum
sticking up in the air - must have looked hilarious when we stopped at
the traffic lights!! It was also Mikey's first drive of our newly aquired car - not a trip he'll ever forget.
We arrived at the hospital and slowly made our way up to the labour
ward. It was a journey that had to be planned via things I could lean on every 2 minutes for a contaction: hand rails, benches,
waiting room seats, mum. When we got into labour ward they were so busy
there were no free rooms so we had to wait in a corridor waiting area
with nasty metal bus stop style seats. I was still on all fours but eventually some
nice nurse brought me a plastic mat so I wouldn't get sore knees! Once
we were in our delivery room things again are quite hazy and I have no
sense of the time, I think we got into our room at 8pm. Although I had
wanted to try the water birthing pool for pain relief if not delivery,
we couldn't as the birthing pools had been condemned as unsafe - what a shocker (although it did bear out my feelings on first seeing around the hospital which in a way made me feel better as I obviously wasn't just being fussy). So I got up on the bed, which was the last place I thought I'd want to be, and stayed there on all fours holding on to the raised head of the bed each time a contraction came. I also threw up again (the rest of that damn pineapple). The midwife then examined me and found I was already a good 7-8cm or more dilated and things were moving fast, lucky we had made the journey when we did, I really can't imagine coping with that car journey had it been any further on.
The next thing I know the midwife is telling me I can start to 'bear down' with each contraction. I thought she must be mistaken and that it wasn't time for that already, surely l just needed the loo?! It's funny - no matter how many stories you've read or heard about the baby's head coming down making you feel like you need the loo for number two - you still don't believe it when it starts happening and remain convinced that in fact you just need to poo! And well, you do, with no dignity whatsoever and with whoever is in the room with you bearing witness to the event. But it's also true that you don't care at all. And it does mean the baby's head is on its way, which is both a good and slightly scary thing.
A word of warning to those of you who haven't done this - the pushing stage of giving birth is much more intense than I at least had imagined. I knew it would be hard work, but I thought perhaps those TV dramatisations were exaggerating things, or that mainly women had to push so hard because silly doctors had them lying on their backs, and that in a natural focused birth with better positioning surely the contractions would push the baby out if you relaxed and let them do their work. No such luck! Mike was holding my legs to help give me something to push against and he said later that he could only just hold me back there was so much force involved. Would have been quite funny had I actually pushed him over.
The next stage is supposed to be the slow careful delivery of baby's head and then usually a pause, sometimes of several minutes until the next contraction, which then delivers one shoulder then the next followed by the rest of your little baby's body. Only in our case Toby had other ideas...
As his head began to crown -which burns and stings and feels like you really will split in two and makes you wimper like a wounded animal because it hurts too much even to cry - he just thought "what the hell, why wait?" and burst out in a hot, wet, slithery rush all at once. To make matters slightly worse for me he had his hands up by his head and his little elbows sticking out, which resulted in some of the splitting in two that I had felt threatening! Perhaps this could have been avoided, someone recently and I think rather tactlessly pointed out that I tore during this delivery because the midwife was 'obviously terrible' and should have prevented him coming out all at once. But I think Toby just made his entrance as he pleased and there probably wasn't a lot anyone could have done to prevent it. My waters didn't break until he was delivered so it wasn't clearly visible that his hands were by his face until the last minute, which in our case was the last second as he didn't give us any more warning than that! So, although it may have meant more pain for me, he at least got a water birth of a kind as he was cushioned through the birth canal in his own little bag of fluid - we almost had a baby in a bag! Besides, the thought of the midwife putting her hand up there to move his hands away is far, far worse than recovering from a few stitches!
Anyway, at 11.11pm my baby entered this world and the warm wet little bundle that was actually much bigger than I had imagined was placed on my tummy! I repeatedly said as I looked for the evidence, "is it a little boy, is it a little boy?" There clearly wasn't much doubt in my mind by that stage, so I guess sometime during my labour he must have sent me a message. He cried and cried very loudly for what seemed like ages too, until he managed to attach himself to my breast! That, like the pushing thing, shattered my illusions on gentle, natural birth, - we had the lights dimmed right down and it was just Mike and my mum and one midwife with me, and he was brought immediately onto my bare skin - so I guess sometimes they just cry when they're born, it probably is a shock to enter this world no matter how gentle the birth!
The minutes after he was born and started his first feed were truly magical. I can only just remember them in the usual sense of memory, but they registered in a physical, bodily kind of remembering, and I will never, ever forget them. With his unbelieveably soft skin, his strange, animal, wonderful newborn smell and his dark, intense little eyes he seemed so new and so precious it was beyond imagining. Yes it hurts like nothing else but I can honestly say that I hope I am lucky enough to experience it again.
Mr Squeak looking worried...
Waiting for our room ...
Me and my baby
Little Squeak's first feed
At 2pm on Tuesday May 16th our car was finally delivered after a two week wait, so to celebrate Mum and I went to the supermarket to do a big shop
(for those of you in NZ believe me here in London the luxury of going to the
supermarket in the car is not to be underestimated!). By the time we
got to the check out at 3.30 I was having the odd cramp that made me
pause for thought slightly, but I had had a few of them the Sunday
before and nothing happened then so I figured it was just more
practice. We got home just before 4pm and I headed off to a pre booked
acupuncture appointment feeling slightly odd! During the treatment the
'cramps' started to happen every 5 minutes, but they weren't that bad
and although I was starting to think that it might be beginning for
real I wasn't convinced. As I was leaving the acupuncturist asked if I wanted him to call Mike or my mum, but I breezily said "no, no I'm fine, I only live up the road", although I think I also apologised for being a bit spaced out, so clearly I should have known something really was up! Little did I know that a mere (in 1st labour terms at least) 6 hours later I would have my baby! I walked the 3 mintues home quite slowly stopping once on the way to focus on a contraction, although I still wasn't calling them that just yet. We let Mike know he should come home and by the time he got back at 5.30 it was all underway.
The next hour and a half are slightly hazy and time passed very squickly, to be honest if you told me it was only 20 minutes I'd believe you. I had a 'show' (a very text book sign of labour starting), had a bath, breathed through the contractions as they got stronger and stronger, and threw up everything I'd eaten that day rather spectacularly (including half a pineapple - said to help bring on labour, perhaps it's true). In between contractions I remember talking quite lucidly on the phone to the midwives at the hospital about when to come in, they kept putting me off and suggested I take some paracetamol (I can't imagine it would have any effect at all), have a bath (already had) and keep walking to keep things moving (could barely walk - it was clearly moving fast!). I kept feeling that things might be going faster than they thought but tried to follow their instructions as I really didn't want to be one of those women who goes in to hospital convinced she's on the way only to be told she's not even 1cm dilated and to go home again! Luckily for me my mum was watching me closely and realised that we should probably go to hospital sooner rather than later, and so we eventually told them we were coming in whether they liked it or not.
The car journey there was pretty awful - I was on all fours in the
back seat with my head in a pile of towels in Mum's lap and my bum
sticking up in the air - must have looked hilarious when we stopped at
the traffic lights!! It was also Mikey's first drive of our newly aquired car - not a trip he'll ever forget.
We arrived at the hospital and slowly made our way up to the labour
ward. It was a journey that had to be planned via things I could lean on every 2 minutes for a contaction: hand rails, benches,
waiting room seats, mum. When we got into labour ward they were so busy
there were no free rooms so we had to wait in a corridor waiting area
with nasty metal bus stop style seats. I was still on all fours but eventually some
nice nurse brought me a plastic mat so I wouldn't get sore knees! Once
we were in our delivery room things again are quite hazy and I have no
sense of the time, I think we got into our room at 8pm. Although I had
wanted to try the water birthing pool for pain relief if not delivery,
we couldn't as the birthing pools had been condemned as unsafe - what a shocker (although it did bear out my feelings on first seeing around the hospital which in a way made me feel better as I obviously wasn't just being fussy). So I got up on the bed, which was the last place I thought I'd want to be, and stayed there on all fours holding on to the raised head of the bed each time a contraction came. I also threw up again (the rest of that damn pineapple). The midwife then examined me and found I was already a good 7-8cm or more dilated and things were moving fast, lucky we had made the journey when we did, I really can't imagine coping with that car journey had it been any further on.
The next thing I know the midwife is telling me I can start to 'bear down' with each contraction. I thought she must be mistaken and that it wasn't time for that already, surely l just needed the loo?! It's funny - no matter how many stories you've read or heard about the baby's head coming down making you feel like you need the loo for number two - you still don't believe it when it starts happening and remain convinced that in fact you just need to poo! And well, you do, with no dignity whatsoever and with whoever is in the room with you bearing witness to the event. But it's also true that you don't care at all. And it does mean the baby's head is on its way, which is both a good and slightly scary thing.
A word of warning to those of you who haven't done this - the pushing stage of giving birth is much more intense than I at least had imagined. I knew it would be hard work, but I thought perhaps those TV dramatisations were exaggerating things, or that mainly women had to push so hard because silly doctors had them lying on their backs, and that in a natural focused birth with better positioning surely the contractions would push the baby out if you relaxed and let them do their work. No such luck! Mike was holding my legs to help give me something to push against and he said later that he could only just hold me back there was so much force involved. Would have been quite funny had I actually pushed him over.
The next stage is supposed to be the slow careful delivery of baby's head and then usually a pause, sometimes of several minutes until the next contraction, which then delivers one shoulder then the next followed by the rest of your little baby's body. Only in our case Toby had other ideas...
As his head began to crown -which burns and stings and feels like you really will split in two and makes you wimper like a wounded animal because it hurts too much even to cry - he just thought "what the hell, why wait?" and burst out in a hot, wet, slithery rush all at once. To make matters slightly worse for me he had his hands up by his head and his little elbows sticking out, which resulted in some of the splitting in two that I had felt threatening! Perhaps this could have been avoided, someone recently and I think rather tactlessly pointed out that I tore during this delivery because the midwife was 'obviously terrible' and should have prevented him coming out all at once. But I think Toby just made his entrance as he pleased and there probably wasn't a lot anyone could have done to prevent it. My waters didn't break until he was delivered so it wasn't clearly visible that his hands were by his face until the last minute, which in our case was the last second as he didn't give us any more warning than that! So, although it may have meant more pain for me, he at least got a water birth of a kind as he was cushioned through the birth canal in his own little bag of fluid - we almost had a baby in a bag! Besides, the thought of the midwife putting her hand up there to move his hands away is far, far worse than recovering from a few stitches!
Anyway, at 11.11pm my baby entered this world and the warm wet little bundle that was actually much bigger than I had imagined was placed on my tummy! I repeatedly said as I looked for the evidence, "is it a little boy, is it a little boy?" There clearly wasn't much doubt in my mind by that stage, so I guess sometime during my labour he must have sent me a message. He cried and cried very loudly for what seemed like ages too, until he managed to attach himself to my breast! That, like the pushing thing, shattered my illusions on gentle, natural birth, - we had the lights dimmed right down and it was just Mike and my mum and one midwife with me, and he was brought immediately onto my bare skin - so I guess sometimes they just cry when they're born, it probably is a shock to enter this world no matter how gentle the birth!
The minutes after he was born and started his first feed were truly magical. I can only just remember them in the usual sense of memory, but they registered in a physical, bodily kind of remembering, and I will never, ever forget them. With his unbelieveably soft skin, his strange, animal, wonderful newborn smell and his dark, intense little eyes he seemed so new and so precious it was beyond imagining. Yes it hurts like nothing else but I can honestly say that I hope I am lucky enough to experience it again.
Mr Squeak looking worried...
Waiting for our room ...
Me and my baby
Little Squeak's first feed
posted by Kiran McKinnon at 9:44 am
2 Comments:
Oooooer, that sounds like some scary shit to happen to your fanny...
I guess it's designed to cope, but yikes!
Yeah, it is designed for it, but the tearing thing is to be avoided. That perineal massage I never got around to doing would have been a very good thing. I was a bit shy before about Mr Squeak helping me with said massage, but during the delivery he basically saw my insides come outisde and I'm sure that wasn't pretty! Next time will not be so bashful about preparing for the big stretch...
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