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Sunday — Day Four This morning was quiet. I did a load of washing and waited for John and the children to come in after church. I started to feel a bit jittery, like I had low blood sugar. Lunch was a welcome sight when it arrived. I had just finished when my visitors came. I was looking forward to their visit, but now I found myself irritable for no reason; at the time, I thought it was caused by a lack of sleep. The visit had to be cut short and John promised to return later in the day. He phoned Mum and Dad to tell them not to come because I needed to sleep. The contractions I was having didn’t really clue me in to what was coming. I know my waters had broken and we were waiting for a baby to be born, but that didn’t mean I was in labour, even with all the other signs. I knew if I mentioned the contractions to the staff, they would whip out the CTG machine again and it wouldn’t behave the way it should, again. I opted to keep quiet and hope it would all go away. John came back at 5.30pm. He wondered why I was acting so strange, I thought after 11 labours together, he should know why I felt the way I did. Why can’t husbands read minds. It would make it all so much simpler. After being assured, earlier in the day by my favourite midwife, that I wouldn’t need another CTG if I was having contractions, I opted to let the staff know what was happening. The obstetrician came in and ordered a CTG. Why did I think I could get out of it? It reminds me of the machine that goes ‘ping’ in the Monty Python skit, useless, but used nevertheless. Of course, it didn’t shed any light on what was happening, so she did an internal. I was 2cm, exactly what I was when admitted four days earlier. She gave me a few options, one of which was to stay where I was in the Antenatal ward and if I had the baby there then so be it. I liked the sound of this one, so I went back to bed and tried to sleep. After about an hour, I couldn’t stay in bed any longer and tried leaning forward over the bed for comfort. That didn’t work, so I tried the shower. John came in to check on me, he had been asleep until he heard the shower going. I don’t know how long I was in there but I got to the point where I knew if I was going to move up to delivery suite it had to be soon. John got a wheelchair and I jumped in. Normally I would be able to walk up there myself, but this time the contractions were so strong I felt stuck and unable to move. We arrived to a sea of faces, two of which I knew quite well. Sue was the midwife who cared for me after Grace was born and Nicki was with us for Grace’s birth. It was lovely to see familiar faces. “I want an epidural.” John reminded what I thought about epidurals and that I would regret my decision, but at that point, I was ready to kill anyone who stood in the way of that blessed pain relief. I wasn’t sure how I would move from where I was when the anaesthetist came, the details didn’t matter to me. I was scared to move away from the shower but I knew I needed to try something. I paced madly around the room, oblivious to anyone. I felt a change while I walked; I knew I was almost fully dilated. I tried hanging from John’s shoulders and then a trip to the toilet. I just wanted to sit and ‘enjoy’ the break I was now having from the contractions. Usually, when I am fully dilated, the baby is born straight away. This time, everything was slow. Baby didn’t decide to come down for what felt like an age. I lost all thought of the fact I was even having a baby. I was caught up in the present, and it felt like an eternity. When baby did decide to make his move, I wished he hadn’t. I birthed every inch of him, slowly. He was only 8lb 7oz, but he felt like the 11lb baby I birthed all those years ago. I don’t normally scream, but scream I did, and unashamedly. He was born and I held him close to me, telling him to cry. I needed to hear him. After giving birth to a baby born in silence, any sound is a welcome sound. I told myself I was never doing ‘that’ again and I carried him over to the bed. The neonatal doctor checked him over, suggested he be taken to the nursery. I declined, the doctor left. I lay back while John and I enjoyed meeting our baby. I didn’t have an epidural, I had a baby instead, and he is lovely. Michael is now 7 weeks. The first four weeks are a blur due to the expressing to keep his weight up. He lost almost a pound in three days and it took weeks to get it back on him. In the last few weeks everything has settled down nicely, and we are enjoying every moment we have with such a precious little bundle.
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More Ice!
This baby business is serious business.
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