The Birth Story - Part III (The Finale)

Even though I was aware it was coming, I was in shock when the midwife said it was go time. I think the realisation that we were about to meet the little human that had been growing inside me for the last nine months really hit. By this stage I was exhausted; pain free but the most tired I have ever been in my life. I really was a little concerned that I wouldn't be able to push ‘properly’ given that I had no feeling whatsoever basically from my sternum down to my toes. The next contraction came, and whilst lying on my side I was instructed to push. Helen the midwife was providing great encouragement and giving me confidence that I was indeed pushing down in the right place and also providing enough oomph to get the baby down and out. The first couple of contractions were good – I felt tired but strong enough to concentrate on what I had to do. As the time and contractions went on though, my energy levels started to fade dramatically. By this stage I had been at the hospital in birth suite number five going on twelve hours, and could barely stay awake. I can vividly remember during one of the contractions (where I was encouraged to do five big push-till-you-run-out-of-breath pushes) forgetting who I was, what I was doing and basically losing consciousness. I was delirious and wasn't sure I’d be able to push the little man out but perked up when the word caesarean was mentioned due to the amount of time I’d been at it. A few more contractions passed and we were told that he was a big one and had a good amount of hair. I was so surprised and proud of trainee daddy. He had always joked that he would be waiting in the hallway during the labour and would come in and have his photo taken when the baby was out and had been cleaned up. Instead, I noticed (in the few odd times I had my eyes open) that he was down the ‘business’ end checking out what was happening as well as providing great support and praise during the pushes. The pushing was tough – I’m sure a few more frown lines were engrained in my forehead from the exertion expelled over that hour and a half. It was giving me a headache which was distracting me so I told trainee daddy to put a pillow over my face. He did say when a new person walked in to the room they were slightly confused why my ‘support partner’ was seemingly suffocating me. My pushes were from a combination of lying on my side and a sort of supported vertical squat. I was given the opportunity to view what was going on downstairs by looking into a mirror placed under the ‘exit’ but politely declined the offer; or maybe I gave a horrified ‘no thanks’ reply. Even if I did want to see the progress/hair/head, I did not have the energy (or my glasses/contacts) to focus. 

After about an hour of pushing, the doctor mentioned that she may need to perform a vacuum delivery if I wasn't able to get the baby round that final bend as he was becoming distressed due to the amount of time it was taking (we later found out he was very close to having to be sent to Brisbane). The pushing was not working as effectively as required because bub was in a very awkward position to make his way through and down the final hurdle. The doctor and midwife did say my pushes ordinarily would have been more than sufficient to push a baby out who was in a normal position. Unfortunately, this baby was not in a normal or ideal position.  Being the overly competitive person that I am that ‘threat’ really spurred me on. Over the next few contractions I believe my pushes were a thousand times more effective and I believed that I might have been able to avoid the vacuum. Unfortunately though time and exhaustion got the better of me and the doctor attached the vacuum to the baby’s head. 

Before I knew it ‘congratulations’ were being thrown around the room. With the epidural I did feel the sensation of the baby coming out (and also when my waters were broken hours earlier) but did not feel any pain or feeling. This means I didn't know that I had done what all women are afraid of doing (yes, my husband saw my poo (he didn't want me to include that) and also didn't know that I had ‘torn’ (second degree). When the baby was shown to me I honestly thought he looked like a fat Asian baby or very much like his dad’s uncle Paul. His head was extremely big and his cheeks were huge. He was whisked over to the table to be attended to by the paediatrician as he had swallowed some of the meconium (his own poo) in the womb and was having a little trouble breathing. That five or ten or fifteen minutes went by so slowly. The other doctor was down at my end stitching me up and telling me who knows what. I was too shaken, exhausted and worried that I failed to really listen to anything she was saying. After the placenta was born (with the help of the injection to make it come quicker) the little human was brought over to me and placed on my chest. It was a surreal moment – very foreign. He did make his way to the boob to have his first feed and then just lay there for some time. 

Once he fell back to sleep I was able to have a sleep too. Trainee daddy took this photo – I think it shows just how zonked out we both were.

I really don’t know how safe it is to let such a worn out new mum (and dad) look after such an important little thing after such an ordeal. I can’t remember what we did or didn’t do in those next few hours in the birth suite but we survived. I was able to have a shower about three or four hours after he was born (I was still pretty numb but my legs were strong enough) and that was one of the best showers of my life. We then made our way down to the ward to start the next part of the journey – looking after a newborn. 

The Birth Story - Part II

So, where was I? Oh yea, wanting the pain gone. 

The midwife popped back in to check on me and I pleaded for the epidural. I don’t know how many times I apologised to my husband and the midwife for failing but it was quite a few times. I tell you what, if you decide to get an epidural, don’t expect it to happen immediately; be prepared to wait. First, the anaesthetist is notified and you are put on some sort of list – a list which doesn't appear to be prioritised based on how you are coping or not coping. Unfortunately it appears the anaesthetist isn't too concerned about your immediate need for pain relief – they come when they’re ready. Then the dude who puts the needle in your hand to connect your drip has to come. The midwife laid out a pile of needles and paraphernalia for him and I lay on my side with my eyes tightly shut attempting to breathe through the contractions. I think at that stage the idea that the pain would be gone soon enough was pain relief enough. I don’t know what that dude did or how he did it but fifteen or so minutes later I was that much closer to being pain free – all prepped and ready for a ginormous needle to be inserted in a very specific part of my back. Maybe an hour later my saviour arrived – the epidural lady. I’m sure I would have been more alert and responsive if Dr Patrick Reed had arrived but was happy enough with the young lady dressed in blue. I was sat up on the side of the bed and told in no uncertain terms how important it was that I kept completely still and was also notified of all the risks associated with epidural. For a split second I thought holy shit should I really get this needle given what can happen? That thought was gone before it even really eventuated. Keeping completely still is all good in theory except that your contractions don’t magically stop the minute you utter the words ‘I want an epidural’. Superhuman restraint must have taken over as I think I did pretty well to play statues during the insertion of the biggest needle you ever did see. As the epidural lady left I professed my love for her and was excited at the thought of the horrible pains fizzing out. I had no real expectation of what the epidural would do and in the hours to come it completely surpassed my expectations. The epidural was in and started to take effect around two thirty in the morning – probably around twelve hours since I’d really starting feeling it and maybe around three hours after I was in what they deem as active labour. Syntocinon which helps you dilate was also pumped in through my drip at the lowest dose to help the labour progress. After about an hour the full effect of the drug is supposed to be felt but I was still feeling somewhat painful feelings and let the midwife Kay know. The lovely lady increased my hourly dosage from the standard 6ml per hour to 10ml per hour.  The 10ml an hour dosage was AMAZING – I couldn't feel a thing. Unfortunately I couldn't get any sleep throughout the rest of the labour as the doctor and the midwife were in and out constantly reviewing my ECG graph and checking on the amount of blood that I was losing. The concern was that perhaps the blood loss was from my placenta which may have resulted in an emergency c-section. The other explanation for the blood loss was from my cervix which had had some treatment on it many years ago. They were pretty certain that it was from my cervix and let the labour progress. The syntocinon was later turned off as my body was actually dilating naturally – from six to nine cm. Given how long I’d been dilating, the syntocinon was turned back on to finish my dilation in preparation for pushing. 

For quite some time I was in euphoria – professing my love to the inventor of the epidural (and saying it was even better than cruise control) and talking a whole pile of other smack – I’m sure of which most of it was completely gobbeldy gook. I thought I was quite the comedian given my exhaustion. At one stage I said something along the lines of ‘if I tried to get up right now I would be like (insert Forrest Gump accent here) Lieutenant Dan’. Trainee Daddy reckons all the people in the room (of which there were a few) had no idea what I was talking about. At some stage of the morning there was a midwife shift change. A lovely British lady named Helen took over and one of the first things she checked was my numbness. Maybe my euphoria was a little too OTT. She was a little surprised when I had no real feeling right up to around my lungs. She turned the epidural down from 10ml to 9ml which was fine with me as it didn't make any difference. I was still totally in love with the epidural but also getting quite exhausted. I’d been focusing some much on the holy grail of 10cm that I’d forgotten that I actually had to push this baby out. Before I knew it (well not really – I’d been in birth suite number 5 for many hours) Helen said ‘it’s time to push’.

Yep, you know it – To Be Continued …

To read part I go here.

The Birth Story - Part I

For those of you who are offspring fans, this birth story is nothing like the somewhat lovely five minute labour that Nina endured.

It was a Thursday and four days past my due date. I had started feeling feelings a little different to any niggles I had already felt throughout the last few weeks of my pregnancy and wondered if this was it. To encourage these feelings along just in case they were the real deal, I decided a little boog-ay Sh’Bam style with my favourite group fitness instructor was in order. Throughout the class the ‘feelings’ continued (some of them a wee bit uncomfortable) and I returned home with more enthusiasm for exercise (or perhaps enthusiasm at the thought of meeting my little man) so took my dog for a walk. This was all done and dusted by 11am. Trainee daddy returned home from work around 2pm and I was pretty certain that something was happening. I trialled a combination of heat packs and hot showers to ease the pain but four hours or so later we decided a trip to the hospital was in order even though we expected to be sent home to wait it out for a bit longer. Being my first time I just wanted to know if this was it, which would then give me some perspective of what I had to look forward to should be expecting. I was asked if I wanted an examination to see where I was at and jumped at the chance but was also a little hesitant in case these feelings were not labour. An examination revealed I was only 1cm dilated so the midwife did a stretch and sweep to keep things moving. We returned home at around 8:30pm and I hopped straight back in the shower. Ten minutes later the hot water ran out!!! It was the best form of pain relief at that stage and it was gone. Half an hour or so later (when the heat pack was not helping one bit) we rang the hospital and told them we were coming back. I needed to use their hot water as I knew I wouldn’t have been far enough along for extra pain relief. The shower at the hospital was not one hundred percent fantastic due to the regulated temperature and pathetic water pressure but a pretty good option to dull out the pain. I’d been in the shower for quite a while (hello prune lady) and wanted to try something else. Our plan (we didn’t have a birth plan) was to move up the spectrum of pain relief when and if it was needed. The gas did nothing for me – I found breathing deeply through the contractions worked better for me. Oh, that and performing some sort of hybrid rain dance/sumo wrestler warm up routine whenever a contraction was happening. The contractions were coming pretty regularly (two to three minutes) lasting around a minute and were pretty darn intense. A second internal examination revealed I was a ‘good’ 3cm dilated but found out bub’s head was arching back into my pelvis meaning the contractions were a lot more painful than normal at this stage (if you can label any labour ‘normal’). I was having terrible pains in my lower front and back and the midwife on duty suggested I try a new form of pain relief that has only been available for a short time (sterile water injections) to try and combat my back pain. Trainee daddy and I had heard about these at our ante-natal class and there were mixed opinions about their effectiveness. In the end I was happy to try anything and in came the doctor. I was propped up on my knees leaning over the bed and prepared myself for the needles – four of them. 

Well at least I thought I was prepared. 

Four needles were inserted in my back (two each from the doctor and the midwife) and before I knew it, four of the loudest and high pitched squeals you ever would hear exited my body and filled the birth suite. I tell you what … if anyone else was considering those injections at that time my screams definitely would have put them off. Those needles EFFING STUNG. HOLY MOLEY I cannot even explain the pain that those things inflicted on me. They did take the edge off the pain for about an hour but it did wear off. At that stage my body and my head had given in. I told the husband that I wanted an epidural. He initially thought we should ask the midwife about the next-in-line pain relief option – pethidine but I didn’t want to take the edge off the pain; I wanted the pain gone.

To Be Continued …