I'm reflecting on this birth 4 years later and thinking how much has changed for us since then. Our family has grown, I have a whole new career and we have had a new birth experience since. I will be recounting the details as I remember them, but I really wish I'd have done this closer to the time. There are no photos for the birth itself unfortunately.
Having spent almost my entire pregnancy in isolation during lockdown, there really wasn't much to do in the lead up to my due date. In my head, my EDD was far too early anyway and I expected a baby more towards the beginning of October than the end of September, so I wasn't feeling that birth was imminent at all. In fact, I was quite happily spending my days baking, bouncing on my birth ball and watching The Chase!
The night of the 23rd, I REALLY had a hankering for Jelly Beans. I sat on the sofa and ate 2 big bags of them. My partner was eye rolling me for acting like a child who'd eaten too much sugar. I was laughing like an idiot at a show about the funniest moments in football. I don't even like football!
The day before giving birth, thinking I had weeks left!
I went to bed as normal feeling happy and relaxed. At 4am, I woke to go to the toilet and came back to bed but had a strange feeling across my bump so sat on the side of the bed until it passed. Once back in bed, another one came. I looked at the time and it had been around 11 minutes since the last one. Could it be? The next one came 11 minutes later again and I couldn't get comfortable in bed this time and worried about waking my partner before work so took myself downstairs to see if I could settle on the sofa. My friend has said that she would keep her phone on loud so I could message her if I needed, so I did. She replied straight away saying it definitely sounded like labour and to wake Benjamin. My birth plan was completely centred around being in this phase of labour for a long time so decided not to wake him in case he still needed to go to work. She told me I was stupid but I carried on as I planned haha.
Laying down just wasn't comfortable at all, so I rested over my birthing ball instead and moved with it for a while. This was far more comfortable. Surges were still around 10 minutes apart but regular and totally manageable. I went upstairs to the bathroom around 6am because I was desperate for the toilet. It felt like my body just evacuated anything it didn't need at this point and I remember reading that that was a sign that labour was imminent. At this point, surges also became more intense and I really anticipated this being the real thing. I set myself up to labour on the bathroom floor on my hands and knees with a pillow at this point and started mooing like a cow, which was really helpful. I heard Benjamin's alarm go off and he came to the bathroom and knocked on the door just as I had a contraction, so I asked him to wait a second, mooed my way through it and then said he could come in. He popped his head round the door and I said '... so I think I might be in labour', to which he replied 'duh, do you think??!'
I called labour ward, as I had planned to go in whenever the time was right, intending to give them the heads up that we would likely be there later. Contractions were around 7-8 minutes apart at this point, so the midwife advised paracetamol and a bath. Paracetamol felt like a ridiculous idea but a bath sounded lovely! So Benj got one running for me and called work to say he was not sure he would be in. His line manager told him to not bother coming in as it sounded like he would be coming straight back home again.
I got in the bath and asked Benj to time my contractions so I could just focus on getting through them. After around 20 minutes, I checked in with him to see where things were up to. He said the last few were 4 minutes apart. I just remember thinking HOLY SH*T it's time to go!! So I got back out and attempted to get dried and dressed while Benj packed the car. This was the start of the worst part of my labour. Contractions were bringing me to my knees and I only felt comfortable on the toilet. I remember thinking I wouldn't be able to get down the stairs, never mind to hospital. But I managed it with support. Once in the car, I let out a huge sound while a contraction happened, it felt like a huge release. A few more contractions in the car and then 3 on the walk into hospital (at the side of the road, wearing Dennis the Menace PJ bottoms, holding on to the railing... great!), but felt relieved to be there at last.
Assessment took a lot longer than I had planned. I didn't want VE's unless I felt I needed one and I requested one on admission to settle my mind. 6cm! This felt encouraging fortunately. But laying on the bed still felt horrendous, so I walked around a little and just used the bed for support but I was starting to get tired. Then the midwife requested a urine sample. Oh my days... it felt impossible! I had nothing left, I couldn't bend round to collect it and it started to feel uncomfortable to even sit on the toilet. I managed DROPS and hoped it was okay! Finally, it was time to go into the birthing suite.
A lovely HCA came in to help us get ready and I didn't even respond to what she said, things were just really intense. I think (now, from knowledge and experience) that this was the start of transition. I apologised to her later. In the birthing suite, the midwife ran the pool and asked me if I wanted Entonox and I just about bit her arm off with a firm YES! Once in the pool with gas and air, I was able to get into a zone and concentrate on labour. Contractions were intense and punctuated with an F word and immediate apology every time. I had requested an undisturbed birth in a dark room, atmospheric lights and my labour playlist, a cool flannel with a particular scent on it... that's not what ended up happening but only because I didn't need it. The midwife totally left me to it which was brilliant, Benjamin was always in my eyeline and holding my hand but the room was in daylight and was silent. But I did it.
Before I knew it, I was ready to push. I'd read that people found this bit a relief but that's not how I experienced it, it was not a pain I could get on board with but I knew this was it. I'd asked the midwife what she could see but due to being on my hands and knees in the pool, she couldn't quite see. So I flipped over but I wished I hadn't now. Benj later told me it was around 7 pushes for Olivia to be born. The final push, the midwife said 'when you feel it burning and stinging, keep pushing' and I do believe that this is what lead to a second degree tear and a labial laceration (which I did feel!) and I wished I had just gone with what my body was telling me. But Olivia did come out with this push and there she was! I asked her where she was hiding all that time because I couldn't believe a human of that size came out of me (although she wasn't a big baby, she was 7lb 10oz!).
I cut her cord after a few minutes which was a really special thing for me. I then got out of the pool for the midwife to inspect if I needed any stitches. On the way to the bed, there was a huge gush of blood that hit the floor (and Benjamin's shoes). I thought it was my placenta (haha), but it wasn't. I delivered that on the bed and told Benjamin that it felt bizarre to now be 'empty'. On inspection, the midwife told me that there was a tear, some grazing and also that she could see a piece of membrane stuck behind my cervix which she couldn't get. The next sentence was 'I'm just going to push a button and a lot of people are going to come into the room...'. At this point, I continued to bleed and the clots that were appearing caused the staff to inspect my placenta to make sure it was complete. I was given a cannula just in case I needed to go to theatre, but the immediate treatment was for an obsetrician to do a manual evacuation to remove the ragged membranes (which meant her entire hand and wrist passing my cervix) while I used gas and air. She got everything under control, stitched me up and gave me some pain relief.
After that, I could finally hold Olivia and offer her to breastfeed. This journey is blogged separately as it didn't get off to a great start. Then I was transferred to postnatal ward after a shower. Still being covid (and I genuinely couldn't face a nasal swab after the manual evac!), I was put in a private room and Benjamin was sent home fairly quickly. I didn't sleep, I was so wired and trying to establish breastfeeding which wasn't going well. I spent a few days in hospital before I got frustrated and said I was leaving. The morning after Olivia was born, I found out my beloved Grandad had passed away a few hours after she was delivered. This was heartbreaking to deal with alongside having a baby and everything else. I NEEDED to be at home to give myself a shot at breastfeeding and recovering while dealing with this news, I wasn't being heard when I was talking about the pain in my perinium (which I later found out was an infection) and I couldn't face another sleepless night potentially alone again.
Being at home was so much better, although postpartum during lockdown and dealing with grief was hard. I wish I had known about postnatal doulas when I had Olivia, however I am so proud of us for making it through that time and the support Benjamin and I showed each other.
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