Birth!

So here it is!

On the way down to Labour Suite, the midwife explained that I was never in line to have the 3^rd dose of the induction medication.

Were I being induced because I was overdue, they would continue the normal induction process until it either worked or they had to stop and deliver the baby via c-section. However, because the induction was due to my waters breaking, they were under a time limit of only having 48 hours to get labour started properly.

Hence my move down to Labour Suite 48 hours after my waters broke!

Not being entirely sure how the next part of the induction would work (given that my contractions were clearly still not properly established), I asked whether I would be allowed a water birth.

She actually scoffed!

Thanks, lady.

I think she realised she’d been a bit rude and dismissive because she then explained why. To progress the contractions, I would need to be hooked up to a drip of oxytocin right up to the point of giving birth, and while on the drip, the baby would need to be monitored constantly.

It was at this point that I realised, with not a small amount of dread, that aside from going to the toilet, I would more than likely be laying in the same position on the same bed right up until I actually had the baby.

So here I am – still cheerful at this point! On the right of the photo, you can see the medication on the drip, going into my hand. On the left, you can see the monitor, recording the baby’s heartbeat and my contractions. 

The midwife settled me into our room and said she would be back soon to put me on the drip and monitor.

I really can’t explain how excited I was at this point! Nervous, yes. Terrified, of course. But still so excited.

Soon, the midwife returned and hooked me up to the drip. She showed me a long tube with the medication in it, and explained that all the medication I should need was in there, and that a specific amount would be released each hour. This amount could be adjusted based on how my body and the baby were responding, and I would be starting out at 1mg per hour.

To be honest, I was expecting this to be adjusted each hour but I was increased to 2mg an hour pretty quickly. Within about half an hour, I think.

It wasn’t long before shift change gave us a new midwife, Vicki, and Hayley the student midwife, who would actually be the one who ended up coaching me through the birth itself.

At this point, not much was happening really. For a good few hours, I was in a cycle of my medication being increased, staying as calm as possible through some quite intense contractions, and watching the monitor.

My husband only told me this once I’d already given birth, and I had no clue at the time, but the midwives were at this point considering giving me a c-section, because I wasn’t really reacting when I had a contraction. They were apparently worried that if I wasn’t feeling the contractions when they were registering as strongly as they were on the monitor, I wouldn’t be able to use them properly to help me push.

The thing is, I was feeling them! I was just trying to stay as calm as possible and breathe through them.  Luckily for me though, by the time my medication was at 9mg, I knew I’d need some pain relief, so began using the gas and air but in all honesty, it didn’t do much apart from make me feel light headed.

Around 10pm, my cervix was checked and I was proclaimed to be 4cm dilated! The decision was made to increase the medication again, taking me to 11mg per hour, to ensure that I continued to progress.

The gas and air was still feeling a bit useless, so I asked for pethidine. Let’s just say, if I were to ever be giving birth again, I wouldn’t bother with it! It made my light-headedness worse, it made me feel nauseous, and it didn’t really do anything to help with the pain.

I don’t know how long it was after that the pain became unbearable. I do remember it was quite sudden!

I told my husband I needed an epidural, and I had it within about 10 minutes. The relief! It turned out that the medication had been turned up so high to help me feel the contractions that I was actually contracting too much and too often (which I never knew was possible). Looking at the printout from the monitor, it was almost as if I was having one long contraction, as it didn’t have a chance to fade properly before the next began building.

No wonder it hurt!

I took the opportunity to get a bit of sleep, though it wasn’t completely restful – an epidural doesn’t completely numb you, you know!

Around 3am, my cervix was checked again and I was fully dilated! Vicki explained that she’d like me to rest for bit more and let the baby descend a bit further on his own.

“You’ll be pushing in an hour.”

I do remember feeling suddenly very nervous at that point, but I think tiredness overrode that because I know I did fall asleep again after texting my family to tell them I was fully dilated.

4am arrived, along with my midwife, student midwife, and the midwife in charge (to wish me luck).

It began!

Altogether, I was pushing for an hour and a half, and the majority of that time was incredibly frustrating. I knew going in that a lot of pushing is to just move the baby down the birth canal, but to be honest I didn’t fully appreciate quite how much effort that takes! Though I couldn’t be sure of timings because – hey – was a little too busy to look at a clock, I’d estimate that of those 90 minutes, at least 80 of them were spent getting him down the birth canal. Actually pushing him out was easy in comparison to that!

I think part of the problem is that you can’t actually tell how much progress you’re making at that point – you’re completely reliant on the midwives telling you that he is indeed moving.

Yes it was very tough, yes it was extremely hard work, but I think I went into a bit of a trance because suddenly one of the midwives said that she could see his head. I do remember that I didn’t believe her! No way was I that close to actually having him!

So she made me reach down and feel.

“Oh my god, he’s got hair!”

At this point, my midwife let the student midwife (Hayley) talk me through the rest of the birth. It all happened rather quickly after that. Before I knew it, there he was!

They put him up on my chest immediately and I just held on. It didn’t feel real that this, right here, was my own baby and that I got to keep him.

After negative test after negative test, countless invasive and undignified examinations, and IVF, was it really possible that we actually had our baby boy there in front of us?

I expected to be hurried straight back up to the ward but actually, I had a very relaxing couple of hours on the Labour Suite. Henry was checked over, I had a shower once my legs started working again after the epidural, and I was given some food (it all came straight back up but they got me some more and I managed to keep it down – apparently that can be because of the injection they give you to help deliver the placenta).

After all that, Henry was wrapped up and put into his little cot, I was given a wheelchair, and we went back up to another private room on the ward.

And there we were… a year and 2 days after finding out that my fallopian tubes were blocked and we needed IVF, we were sat in the hospital with our brand new, perfect baby.

Henry, born at 5:30am on 6^th May 2018.

Perfect.

Induction

Loaded up with all our bags, plus a massive v-shaped pillow, we made our way to the hospital at 4pm on the Friday. Thankfully, we were given a private room, which was a huge relief! The idea of sleeping on a ward had filled me with horror, and I waddled into that building quite prepared to beg for a private room if necessary.

When we were shown to the room I was told that I’d be induced soon after arrival, so that the baby wouldn’t be left too long without the protection offered by the waters. We got ourselves set up – I had all my snacks lined up ready to go, my husband got the tablet set up on the wifi so that we could Netflix some random comedies to keep my distracted once the contractions started*.

*Other streaming services are available!

I knew I'd be spending a lot of time in this room!

A midwife popped in to introduce herself and welcome me to the maternity building. She explained that they were very busy so they would start the induction process around 6pm. Yes, it was slightly annoying to have to wait when it’s something so exciting but 2 hours isn’t an awful wait really.

6 o'clock came. 6 o'clock went. No induction.

To be honest, it wasn't the lack of induction that bothered me. It was the fact that nobody came to tell me why it would be delayed, or even that it would be delayed. I pressed the call buzzer a few times and the staff told me that someone would see me ‘soon’.

At this point, the excitement had pretty much disappeared and all I was feeling were the nerves! It had suddenly hit me that I might be in hospital longer than I originally anticipated, and that it was really about to happen. I just wanted them to get on with it!

Eventually, at 9:30 p.m. one of the night shift midwives – Julie – came to start my induction. She explained that there had been a delivery on the ward (which is pretty rare because usually the woman is sent down to labour ward in time) and that this is what had caused the delay. It was totally fair enough, but I still wished someone had popped in to explain, rather than just leave me hanging.

Anyway, induction time!

There are a number of stages to induction, which broadly follow the pattern of monitoring, medication, monitoring, and waiting. This process can be done 4 times, at specific intervals, but not everyone will need all 4 doses to successfully start their labour.

It begins with spending half an hour hooked up to a monitor to see how the baby is doing, which provides a baseline for the midwives to compare to later monitoring. For those of you who don't know, when you are on the monitor you have to sit completely still otherwise the pads of the monitor can slip and they won't be registering the baby anymore.

Now I don't know about you, but when I have nothing to do, I can sit totally still for hours, watching tv, reading a book, or even doing absolutely nothing. On the other hand, when I am told that I HAVE to sit still and not move, I become incredibly restless.

As soon as she put the monitor on, I was pretty sure I’d be able to run a marathon at that moment. I just wanted to MOVE.

Still, it's only half an hour, right?

Wrong.

Because, once that monitoring is over, the next stage of induction begins.

This part is when the midwife inserts a pessary of medication into the cervix. It contains prostaglandins, which is the hormone that the body releases to stimulate contractions. Although it isn’t instant, a few doses of prostaglandins is often enough to kickstart labour.

Then you’re put on the monitor again, this time for an hour, to make sure that the baby is not distressed by the medication, and to see whether any small contractions have begun.

This entire process was repeated 6 hours later, which for me was 3:30 in the morning. Joy of joys.

Before my second dose, I had started to have contractions and although they were only about 30 seconds long and were quite far apart, they were still frequent and painful enough that I noticed them! So you can imagine, when the midwife arrived at 3:30, I hadn’t had very much sleep.

3:30am monitoring - baby was nice and sleepy with a heartbeat of 122 beats per minute!

Again, the baby was monitored for half an hour, a pessary was inserted, and I was monitored for another hour. There was some good news though! When the midwife checked my cervix before giving the prostaglandins, she explained that because my cervix was almost completely effaced and I was having small contractions, she didn’t expect that I would need a third dose! Fantastic!

Effacement isn’t really something we often hear about when discussing labour, or when it’s portrayed in tv/film – we hear about dilation and that’s it, but actually a significant portion of that early labour, the part that seems never-ending, is spent with the cervix effacing. Usually, the cervix is a long tube which points down in the top of the vagina. During the early stage of labour, the contractions are forcing the cervix to flatten, or 'efface'. Only once the cervix is fully effaced can dilation begin. This is why the early stage can seem so disappointing – to have been in labour for hours and hours, to be told you’re only 1cm dilated?! It’s just important to remember that in that time, those contractions have turned your cervix from a 2cm long tube, to being completely flat!

My cervix was checked again at around 10 o'clock in the morning.

1 cm dilated!

How exciting!

When being induced, if you need a third pessary, this takes place 24 hours after the first hormones were given, meaning I was preparing myself to wait until 9:30 on the Saturday evening.
A second midwife agreed that I would probably not need a third pessary, but she explained that the final call on that wouldn’t be made until much closer to the time, so she wanted me to make sure that my progress didn’t stall. I was encouraged to walk up and down the stairs in the maternity building, go to the shop in the main hospital building, and take a warm bath.

Knowing that no more intervention would be taking place until late into the evening, I sent my husband home to have a shower and get some sleep. We’re lucky at our hospital that they do allow a partner to stay overnight, but they don’t provide much in the way of comfort. My husband (who has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome), had spent Friday night sleeping on the floor and was not allowed to take a shower on the ward.

He didn’t want to leave me, but understood that during this part of the induction, I didn’t need him as much as I would while in full blown labour. I needed him to be in tip-top condition, and that meant a shower and sleep! So off he went.

My Mother-in-Law stayed with me, and after a while timing my contractions while I bounced on a maternity ball, we took a slow shuffle to the shop to buy an ice cream (yes, she also shuffled – if you’d seen her recent ankle injury, you’d understand).

50 second contractions, 5 minutes apart. Still not close enough. I was starting to think I’d be having that third pessary after all!

On the way back to my room, we ran into my husband arriving back at the hospital. We returned to the room, to find a Midwife knocking at the door.

I introduced myself.

“Ready to come downstairs to labour suite then?” Was all she said.

I responded, rather foolishly, “What, now?”

“Well that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” The Midwife replied.

Yes. Yes it was! She gave us a few minutes to gather all our things and then we were off! To labour suite! To have our baby!

Here. We. Go!

What an exciting and exhausting few weeks we’ve had!

15 days before his due date, at 5:30am on the 6^th May, our Henry made his entrance into the world, weighing in at a healthy 7lb 12oz (3.52kg, for you strange people who use metric to measure babies).

So let’s go back to the beginning.

(And by the beginning, I mean last year).

4^th May 2017 – I spent the day in hospital, had my laparoscopy and we found out that we needed IVF to have a baby.

Fast-forward to 3^rd May 2018.

It was a Thursday, and was both the Local Council Elections and a Parents’ Evening at my husband’s school (NOT for a year group he teaches, thank goodness). On Parents’ Evening days, his school finishes slightly early and any staff who don’t have appointments are encourage to go home straight away, so he made it home around 3pm and we immediately drove to the local church to vote. Once we’d finished there, he suggested going home via the shop so that we could get an ice cream – music to a heavily pregnant lady’s ears when it’s so hot outside!

On the drive to the shops, it’s lucky no police cars were around because we’d definitely have been pulled over for my husband to be breathalysed! Swerving the car all over the road and hitting every. Single. Pothole.

“I’m trying to jiggle the baby out of you!” he responded when I asked what on earth he was doing.

Fair enough.

Anyway, we bought our ice creams and drove (swerved/bounced) home. Standing outside the front door as my husband unlocked it, my waters broke.

You mean it WORKED?!    

        

Side note – had I tried to work up to my original maternity leave date, I’d have been dismissing the children on the playground at the end of the day when my waters broke. Thank heavens I took maternity leave early because THAT would have been a story that never got forgotten at school!

Now let me warn you – these next few posts are going to go into specifics about labour and childbirth, so if you’re squeamish about it, or just don’t particularly want to read those details about someone you know, I’d stop reading now!

Ok?

Sure?

Righty-ho, here we go!

I honestly don’t know how some people say that they weren’t sure if their waters had gone or if they’d wet themselves because for me, the feeling was so alien that there was no way I could confuse the two! Maybe that isn’t how it feels for some people but for me, there was no mistaking what had happened.

Still, I said nothing about it to my husband, just mumbled something about needing the toilet, and escaped to the downstairs loo.

More waters. And more.

By the way, for any pregnant women reading this – they don’t warn you quite how much amniotic fluid there is. It’s a lot. Just… a lot. Buy all the maternity pads. Seriously, all of them.

Once I was sure that I wasn’t imagining it, I told my husband, “So… we may have a Star Wars baby yet!” (May the 4^th be with you, for anyone who has been living under a rock).

I then ran back to the toilet because yet more waters made an appearance.

(I told you – a lot! Pads. Get them).

So the next job was to call the hospital but for some reason, I felt really silly doing it! I shouldn’t have – waters breaking is a perfectly legitimate reason to call the maternity assessment unit – but I did.

They asked me to put a fresh pad on, wait for an hour and then come to the assessment unit, bringing that pad with me so that they could check it was my waters and not urine. So that’s what we did.

We arrived at the hospital around 5:30 and I was taken to labour suite to be assessed, as the assessment unit hands over to labour suite at 6, so they figured they may as well send me straight there. They confirmed pretty quickly that it was indeed my waters breaking, and hooked me up to a monitor so they could see a) how baby was doing and b) whether I was contracting yet.

Hint: I wasn’t.

Medically, this is called PROM (Pre-labour Rupture of Membranes), which is when the amniotic sac breaks more than 1 hour before the onset of actual labour.

The pad with the blue strap is measuring our baby's heart and the pad with the pink strap is measuring my contractions.

I did have to stay in for a few hours (about 4 in the end) because the baby’s heartbeat was a little bit too high for the midwives to be completely happy, but eventually he settled down. I was sent home with the instruction to return to the hospital the next day (the 4^th May) at 4pm to be induced.

Blimey.

Logically, I knew that would be the next step if my contractions didn’t begin on their own overnight, because they can’t leave the baby out of the protection of the amniotic sac for very long, but still, eeep!

I asked the midwife what I needed to bring with me for the induction and she replied, “Everything. Once you come in tomorrow, you won’t be leaving until you’ve had the baby.” Double blimey.

Off I went home, hoping of course that my contractions would start overnight, would increase relatively quickly, and I’d be able to go into hospital the next morning, avoid induction and just pop a baby out.

No such luck, of course!

I did have twinges of pain throughout the night, and I found it very difficult to sleep because of the heat, the twinges and the fact that every time I moved, yet more waters came out. So I spent a good portion of the night sitting on towels and plastic bags on the sofa, making lists of housework to do throughout the Friday before I was due at the hospital.

To be honest, the only thing that stopped me actually doing those jobs overnight was the fact that I was too scared to move, lest I ruin the furniture or the floor with more leaking waters!

We spent Friday morning and early afternoon doing housework, making sure that when we returned from the hospital, we wouldn’t be greeted by a house that was stressful.

That afternoon, which was exactly one year to the day from when we found out we would need IVF to have a baby, we went into hospital to have our IVF baby induced. There’s some kind of poetry in that, I feel.