‘Here we go again another mummy blogger with a birth story…*yawn*. Heard it before.’ Well its titled the birth what were you expecting? This is basically just a full run through of my labour and the birth of my little boy Toby (now 7 weeks) before I forget the whole thing! –
Ive been writing this post for the past 6 weeks. Id love to say its because this is the most amazing piece of writing you are ever going to read and I’ve spent so much time on it (I wish) It’s because its extremely difficult to find the time to do something for yourself when you have 2 under 2, that doesn’t include trying to ram as many chocolate hob nobs in your mouth as humanly possible while they are napping.
We welcomed our second child, Toby, into the world on 29th January 2018 and it was SOOOOO much quicker than my first. I mean I know they say that your second child usually arrives a lot quicker than your first, but, its not that hard to be quicker than 69 hours is it? My son arrived just 8 hours after my first contraction.
During the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I had Braxton Hicks every day. The closer I got to my due date the more I would start to question whether they were real or not. I would whip out the handy contraction timer just to check. My husband would always weigh in, asking me how I didn’t know whether they were the real thing, after all, this wasn’t my first labour. The truth is that I remembered that my contractions were painful, but I couldn’t remember how painful, or where I felt the pain the most. Even when I eventually started having real contractions I still questioned whether they were just Braxton Hicks or not, it wasn’t until I couldn’t physically sit down that I thought…hey I think this is it!
It was the night that the WWE Royal Rumble was on, I woke up at 1am and I remember it was still playing in the background as Andrew had fallen asleep (we are terrible at remembering to turn off the tv before we fall asleep!). I watched a couple of enterances whist timing my contractions on the app. (It was such a helpful tool to help decide, 1, whether I was actually having real contractions or not, and 2, so I could physically see when my next contraction was about to happen!) After about 45 minutes, I noticed that the match Andrew really wanted to watch was about to end so I thought I would wake him up so he could see the winner. (He was actually quite happy that I woke him up so he could watch it) I didn’t want to tell him right away that I was in Labour as he would just start to flap and insist we go to hospital right away. At that point in time I was coping with my contractions on my own, after my last labour lasted 69 hours I didn’t want to travel 30 minutes to the hospital far too early, only to be sent home again. Anyway, after a couple of minutes of him talking to me, it wasn’t hard for him to figure out what was happening. I encouraged him to just carry on watching TV and that I was happy on my birthing ball. I put my earphones in and listened to my McFly playlist, trying to keep myself upbeat and happy.
After an hour and half or so, after much persuasion from Andrew, at around 3am I reluctantly called the hospital and they told us to make our way in when we were ready. Andrew quickly jumped in the shower and then we were off! Luckily, at the moment we are living with his parents whilst we save for a house, so we left our daughter in bed and handed the monitor off to grandma and grandad! I don’t know what we would have done if we were still living in newcastle! There aren’t that many childminders open at 3am!
When we arrived at the hospital at 4ish, we were taken straight into the delivery room to be examined (it was a really quiet night for them and they had watched me have about 6 contractions on the walk through the hospital). I was so worried that the midwife was going to tell me I was only 1cm and I should go home. So much so that before we set off Andrew and I had already planned out what we were going to do if they did send me home. As we live so far away from the hospital we were going to go to McDonalds and wait it out with a couple of milkshakes, I almost took my birthing ball! (I was kind of looking forward to it to be honest)
Whilst examining me, my first lovely midwife Jayne, told me she would wait to see if she could feel baby’s head whilst I was having a contraction. I thought it a bit strange when my ever so predictable 2-3 minute apart contraction didn’t come as expected and we were all just…waiting. But, a few minutes later, as my contraction finally came, so did my waters, I was 4 cm and not leaving the hospital without a baby! (but sadly without a milkshake…boohoo)
The next few hours go by pretty much identical to each other, every couple of minutes I would take a big breath of my gas and air and try and cope with my tightenings as best I could. Then, as the pain got worse I found myself in need of an epidural, that in the end I wished I hadn’t had. All I could think of was that I could not physically let these contractions get any more painful because I couldn’t cope, and there wasn’t any way I could push a baby out with just gas and air (I am not very good with pain).
To cut a very long story short, I had a hard time having the epidural put in, then my blood pressure dropped and so they slowed down the epidural, then my block was too high (I was numb almost to my neck which isn’t at all ideal) They had to sit me up for a while to lower the block.
As the hours went on, my epidural wore off! Yikes! Usually they would keep topping you up so this didn’t happen and you would also have a boost button if you needed an extra top up sooner than expected. However, the anaesthetist didn’t like my blood pressure, or the fact that it slowed down my contractions, so they decided not to give me any more than the first dose of epidural, meaning I was a bit numb to the pain on my right side but could feel everything, everywhere else! The thing was pretty much useless to me and a waste of time and my tears! (Its strange because my previous epidural went in with ease and worked like a charm).
9 am came around and it was time for my next examination! I was 10 cm and ready to push!!! My second midwife, Ursuala (lovely, lovely lady) told me to push when I felt like it. As soon as she said that I felt a wave of emotions and I just wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because I was so so happy I was finally ready to meet my little boy, I wanted to cry because I was exhausted and I wanted to cry because I spent 9 months telling myself I was ready to have another baby, to care for 2 under 2, that when the time came for me to finally hold my little one in my arms, I didn’t think I was ready at all and I wanted a little more time. As you know, babies don’t think about what the mamas want. Only what they want and need and in that moment in time he wanted to get out.
I have always heard that women feel an overwhelming need to push when its time and your body just does it without you having any control. My epidural worked the first time so I was just told when to push. With my epidural to working this time, I was waiting for this body takeover. Well, it didn’t happen for me, but I started to push anyway!
Within 4 pushes his head was out (it sounds easy when you put it like that, ha), “on your next contraction take a big deep breath, push, and he will be here”. So I waited…and, I waited… I even waited a little more, but no contraction. Here I am, legs akimbo, 2 superwomen midwives staring at my foof, husband peeping over the top, my mum somewhere in the middle, and me with a baby’s head poking out of me, all of us waiting for this contraction. Waiting for the contractions that never came. Pushing without a contraction is very strange, I genuinely thought I was going to poop. But I didn’t (thank god) Anyway, I gave a little push and suddenly his shoulders were out and so was the rest of him.
1 epidural that didn’t work, copious amounts of gas and air, 2 amazing superwomen, 2 actual tears and a surface tear later and there he was! Absolutely gorgeous, covered in blood and white sticky stuff, but completely and utterly gorgeous.