Journal
Sign guestbook
Arthur's Mummy's Diary
Matthew's Belly Gallery
Nathan's Belly Gallery
Benjamin's Belly Gallery
My Fertility Friend Chart
2009-05-05 - 11.45pm��previous entry��next entry
Nathan's Birth Story
I'm writing this soooo late! Much of it is taken from my diary entries over the few days around his birth (thank goodness I wrote in such detail!). I'm almost 31 weeks pregnant with baby #4 and I really want to write Nathan's birth story properly before I give birth again. Nathan's birth was wonderful and special and unique (as births are) but also FAST and scary and indescribably painful (in parts). I have really not felt like writing his birth story as a result, and have been more anxious about birth with this baby I'm currently carrying, than ever before. Which isn't good! I want to feel more positive about giving birth, and hope to find ways to cope better this time. But anyway! Here is Nathan's birth story. I'm saving it as I go because I feel sure I won't be able to write it all in one go, properly. I'll have to carefully read and check the entries I wrote back when it was all happening, and add photos where they belong too. Reading those entries back does trigger memories of details I hadn't written about, so I'm hoping to make one big COMPLETE birth story here. Hope I finish it before this baby is born, haha! ;)
Nathan was due on February 10th 2008. My other two babies had been born after my due date - Arthur at 40 weeks and 4 days (lonnnnng labour though) and Matthew at 41 weeks exactly after a cervical stretch and sweep of my membranes by the midwife at my 41 week appointment the day before, at home. So I was totally expecting him to arrive AFTER my due date. What a surprise I got! ;)
A bit before 6am on January 11th 2008, I woke up suddenly. I was sleeping in the single bed next to Matthew's cot, as I had done for most of the time since Matthew was born, to make night feedings easier! Neil and Arthur were still co-sleeping in our big floorbed in the main bedroom. It was never the plan to be that long with Matthew, but time just passed and he kept night nursing and it was just sooooo easy. We had plans to change that all around in the weeks before Nathan arrived, because Arthur would go into Matthew's room in the single bed, and I would go back into the main bedroom with Neil, and put a new cot next to it for Nathan. But anyway. At 35 weeks and 5 days, I was still in the single bed next to Matthew, and EVERYTHING for Nathan was still in the loft and very much UN-ready!
So, I woke suddenly, and for the first second or two I couldn't fathom what woke me. It was a bit early for me to spontaneously wake, though the boys often woke about half an hour after that. It only took me a couple of seconds to realise that I was in a WET bed. I was lying on my back and slightly on my side when I woke, and I just remember feeling wet. Not like a bucket of water or anything, but not damp either. I didn't dare move for a moment, and then I felt about to see how wet the bed was. I was wearing underwear and a top, and the first thing I noticed was that my underwear was wet at the front and underneath (not at the back). The bed under my lower half felt wet to the touch too, and I immediately thought it had to be one of two things:
a) I peed the bed (which I knew was a definite possibility, because it had already happened to several mothers-to-be on my due date forum online, and they'd gone into hospital thinking their waters had broken, only to return somewhat embarrassed about their bladder control!)
b) My waters broke.
Everyone was still sound asleep, so I got up straight away and went to the loo (in the dark). I peed without difficulty so wondered if I really could have peed the bed and still have pee left to do on the toilet?
I peeled off the wet underwear and went into the bedroom (where Neil and Arthur were sleeping) to fumble in the dark for a clean dry pair in the chest of drawers. Neil woke as I was putting them on and sleepily asked what was up. I told him I either peed the bed or my waters just broke, because I had woken up in a wet bed. He said, "Oh!" in a very disconcerted tone! That exchange took all of about 20 seconds, and that's how long I'd had my dry underwear on before I thought I'd just reach down and check if they felt damp or anything yet - they were already wet, but not as wet as the pair I'd just taken off.
It was beginning to feel a bit obvious that my waters must have broken, though I was still a bit in denial about it! I did a lot of shaking like a leaf and being all adrenaliney and wondering what to do, but not OUTRIGHT panicking or anything. The biggest anxiety on my mind was my little boys - Nathan too, but the fact that it meant I would have to go into hospital today, and I sooooooooo wasn't expecting to! And would my little loves be okay? I just didn't know.
Nathan was moving so I knew he was okay. Neil got up, and I heard Matthew wake, so I put him to the breast as usual for his morning breastfeed. It was just after 6am - slightly on the early side for Matthew, but not toooo unusual for him. I know he was sleepy though! He nursed for maybe 10 minutes and I shook with adrenaline soooo much the whole time. I tried to calm down but it was so hard! I felt sick and everything.
Neil took Matthew downstairs and I went to the loo to empty my bowels and check the "fluid". After my BM I felt pretty sure that I was losing my mucus plug. It was clear and not bloody like with Arthur (I never even lost it with Matthew!), but it was THICK mucus, I couldn't break it by wiping no matter how I tried - it just hung (sorry for the TMI! I'm copying and pasting from the entry I wrote at the actual time when I was freaking out and asking for people's opinions here, so there was plenty of TMI, lol!) and there was a lot of it.
I took the second lot of wet underwear off - again WET but just in a circular patch about 4 inches across, in the crotch area. With the light on that time, I could see it was clear fluid. I did another fair-sized pee when I went to the toilet so I figured that the fact that I was peeing fine surely meant that it was not likely to be urine. I also did the smell test on the underwear I took off the second time - it did NOT smell like urine. It actually smelled exactly like fabric softener, which I was loathed to admit because that's kind of classic amniotic fluid smell, and I was still basically in denial about the whole "baby coming THIS early!" thing! For a moment I even tried kidding myself that it was because the underwear was freshly laundered and new on, but underneath it all, I didn't think that was why the wet patch smelled like that.
I had been having quite a few normal Braxton Hicks, but otherwise no noticable uterine activity.
Arthur woke as I was finishing in the toilet, calling for me anxiously. Neil went to him but he wanted me. He wanted a cuddle and told me he was calling for me because he wanted me. He doesn't normally. Neil said Arthur had woken JUST before I woke up and asked for me then, too. He told Arthur that Mummy was sleeping and settled him back to sleep. By this stage he was wondering if Arthur was aware of something going on that even we were not?
I was worried, because I was only 35 weeks and 5 days pregnant, and it just felt too early! It was quite a shock, because it was the last thing I expected to happen that day, lol! I knew I was also GBS (Group B Strep) positive, or at least I had been earlier in my pregnancy - my midwife appt for my re-test was supposed to be later that very morning.
I phoned the labour ward (exciting!) and told them my story. Of course, they said I would have to go in to check whether the wetness was amniotic fluid or not. By that time I had a new pair of knickers on with a sanitary pad, and it was already wet. I didn't know HOW wet because of the absorbency of the pad, but the surface felt wet and I could smell the fabric softener smell when I took my underwear down to check the pad or go to the toilet.
I was scared for Nathan. I knew he was a good size and that his lungs should be mature. I didn't want him to have a hospital stay though, and I knew that he might have to, if he arrived early. I was anxious about the GBS because I knew there was a big increase in risk for him (whether or not I had the IV antibiotics during labour) if he was born before 37 weeks, and the risk increased again if my waters broke before labour.
I felt anxious for my little boys, because there were so many unknowns - how long would I need to be in hospital? Would it upset them? Arthur wass already saying that he didn't want us to go to hospital to see the doctors :( I phoned Bennie (my brother) and he was getting himself ready to come over and look after the boys for us.
I also felt anxious because we were so NOT READY in our home for Nathan to be here! I hadn't even packed a hospital bag, and in any case, I had no clothes or nappies to hand for Nathan to pack, because everything was still in the loft in goodness knows which boxes, and not washed ready for him to wear! I felt so unprepared!
By 7.30am, I was feeling calmer. I was aware of fluid leaking out if I shifted myself in the chair or leaned to one side while sitting, and when walking around too. It was becoming much more noticable than earlier, when I first woke up wet. I also seemed to be losing more of my mucus plug, the same as I described earlier. I was having Braxton Hicks contractions as usual, and one or two of them were stronger than usual and hurt (which wasn't my norm at all up till then), although they didn't last long and didn't feel like labour contractions. Nathan was painfully wriggly at that time, shoving and pushing around. I had a shower and we started to try to get ourselves organised and ready to go into hospital.
I don't know how it managed to take us SO long to get there from when it all started that morning, but we didn't actually get to the labour ward (5 minutes drive from our house, haha!) till somewhere around 3pm!!! The midwife was not exactly pleased with us, but she understood we had to get child-care sorted and that we weren't exactly expecting this so we weren't prepared! We had waited till Bennie arrived (which was around 10.30 or 11am I think) and then just seemed to wander around the house either frantically or aimlessly, searching for this and that to pack, and stopping constantly to attend to the boys in one way or another, even though Bennie was there. I had a hospital bag to pack, both for me and the baby, and I had nothing ready! I was aware of fluid leaking the whole time, sometimes it felt constant and sometimes I would feel nothing for a while and then a small gush of fluid as I leaned for something. I felt sure my waters had broken by that time!
So, when Neil and I arrived at the hospital, we were shown into a nice delivery room. I had to pee and so on for them, and had the usual monitoring and blood pressure checks done. I was having no contractions at all, and Nathan was doing fine in there - healthy heartbeat and movements. It seemed like we had to wait ages, but it probably wasn't that long - 30 minutes or more maybe - for someone to actually examine me and check to confirm what that fluid was. I remember when the lady (doctor) finally came in with a student, and asked me to get up on the bed so she could examine me. As I pulled myself up onto the edge of the bed to lie down, I contracted my tummy muscles and felt a HUGE gush of fluid that made me stop in my tracks and feel kind of ewwy and wet. I KNEW my waters must have broken, and I was about to be amazed if they said not!
I lay down and the doctor did an internal examination. She was explaining what she was seeing to the student, and telling her that she didn't see any fluid leaking from my cervix (which was almost closed and still long, but soft, by the way). Then she said to me, "Give me a good cough, please" and so I took a breath and coughed once. I felt fluid leaking, and the doctor and student straightened up from their "peering" stance (hehe!) and she put her hands on her hips and sighed, and said to the student, "She's SROM." Which I took to mean "spontaneous rupture of membranes". I felt slightly adrenaliney at the confirmation, but victorious at being proved right, haha! ;)
After that, the midwife came back in and said we were getting this show on the road! I couldn't believe they wanted to induce me and that Nathan had no choice but to be born that very day/night!!! I don't know what I'd thought would happen, but that really wasn't the first thing that had occurred to me! She said it was because I was GBS+ that they wanted to get things going as fast as possible. The first priority, she said, was to get my first round of IV antibiotics set up and running, and then induce me around 4.30pm, right after that finished running. They didn't want to bother with cervical gel, they just wanted to start me on IV syntocinon to begin contractions, and go from there. I expressed concern about it, because I've always been anxious about induction methods, and how unnatural they are and the effects they can have therefore. The midwives I had were EXCELLENT, soooo wonderful, really. They put me at ease, and best of all the midwife who was assigned to me for the first half of my labour (and who did all my stuff when we arrived) had the most hysterical sense of humour. She had us laughing almost constantly, and that was a real relief from any waves of anxiety or doubt. She also struck me as ever so competent and knew what she was talking about, and therefore how to advise me, explain things to me, and ease my worries about procedures. I was so grateful to God for her, and just sad that it took me all night to labour unto birth, so that she ended her shift halfway through it :(
The midwife was very understanding about my fears re. induction, and she said they would really just give me EVER SUCH tiny doses of the IV syntocinon to start with, and very gradually increase it over time. They would monitor the baby carefully throughout, and pull back on the dosage if he seemed to be finding it bothersome. Also she said that if it felt like it was too intense for me, they would turn the dosage down too. So that reassured me a lot!
Just after 4pm we were moved across the hall to a less-nice (unfortunately!) delivery room, where I got my nightie on and settled into bed. At 4.30 they finally had everything ready to start my IV antibiotics. It was NO FUN having them put the IV in. I got poked and poked like a pin cushion and started to find it stressful and upsetting. The doctor put an IV in the back of my right hand (I HATE them in my hands, and have been known to insist on the inside of my elbow over my hands in the past) and it was soooooo unbelievably sore, I could hardly bear the searing burning pain which wasn't easing at all! I couldn't relax or breathe freely, it was so sore. I kept asking her, "Should it be this painful?!" but she seemed a bit rubbish actually, I wasn't impressed by that doctor at all. She didn't communicate with me much, and didn't seem too confident with what she was doing. She insisted it was fine, and that it would get less sore in a bit, etc. I just knew it wasn't right! But she stuck a big load of fluid into the IV anyway, and OW OW OW - the back of my hand puffed right up with that fluid in it! Tsk! She apologised and took it out. I just felt so upset about it - I hate having IVs put in my hands and find it physically draining with all the adrenaline. If it hurts a ton and then they have to start from scratch, that's the point at which I start crying and stuff. I didn't this time, but I was having a hard time not. It makes me so emotional, just having an IV! I have always found that, since my teens. Weird. Anyway.
Another doctor (thankfully!) came to do the IV, and I basically begged them to leave my hands alone! So they put one inside my left elbow, with no trouble at all (tsk! I could have told them that in the first place!). It's more fiddly in that I can't bend my arm about so much, and so I suppose my movement is more limited, but honestly it's so much nicer for me than having to worry about tubes all over my hand when I'm trying to brush my hair out of my eyes or hold my new baby. It hurts way more in my hands too, even when it's well positioned and my hand has become "used to it".
So, I had my IV antibiotics, which ran for 20 minutes. As soon as that finished, they switched the bag to syntocinon, and there I was, officially being induced - no turning back now! Nathan was monitored constantly so I was stuck on my back in the bed, but I really didn't mind. I had no pain or contractions and felt alert and fine. Neil was with me for company, and it was not a problem to me. I did keep thinking about my boys at home with Bennie, and wondering how they were doing. Worrying about it sometimes too, but I tried not to think about it like that for long. We had managed to contact my parents and I knew they would be getting on a ferry for England that night to get to us as quickly as they could. Ironically, they had JUST visited us the day before, having flown into London from a holiday in California the day before that! They went home to France on the night ferry and probably hadn't even disembarked when my waters broke early that morning!! They drove for hours from the ferry terminal, and arrived home around noon to get my phone message about my waters breaking, and then booked themselves on the night ferry back again that night, bless their hearts! I felt happy knowing they were on their way while I was lying there waiting to see what happened with my body and my baby boy!
I don't remember how long it took before I noticed contractions, but I was having some mild-to-moderate contractions by the time Neil left to go home and put the boys to bed around 6.30pm. I really don't remember anything about them at that stage, and didn't document it, but I was definitely having some. I remember my contractions weren't all that consistent for quite a long time - most of the evening really. They didn't all last long enough, and the gaps sometimes got too long between them, so they'd crank up the IV a bit. They wanted me to be having at least 3 moderate contractions in every 10 minutes, and for them to be regular and lasting over a minute. They often did seem that way, but they wouldn't all last over a minute and some were really quite mild, or the gap would be 6 minutes and then 2 minutes and 3 minutes, that kind of thing. They weren't too happy with that, because my cervix wasn't showing that it was ready for labour naturally as it was, and they needed the contractions to be effective. I was having no trouble with the contractions whatsoever. I could still talk through them and felt relaxed. I needed to focus when they came, but it was fine. I had no pain relief, though I had brought my TENS machine from home - it seemed a faff to get it all put on and I really didn't feel any need at that time, so I didn't.
At almost 8.30pm I had been on continuous IV syntocinon for 3.5 hours, and I was having 3 "moderate" contractions in every 10 mins - hoorah! I was still having no pain relief because I didn't feel the need yet. The midwives were telling me how well I was coping with the contractions, but I felt sure that it was because they were not "effective" contractions or something! I had not been checked to see how far dilated I was since the start, so I had no way of knowing if they really were "working" or not. The plan was to check me every 4hrs from the start of the IV.
Neil phoned around 8.15pm to say that the boys went to sleep beautifully within 20minutes with no trauma! I was so relieved but I was still worried about the night for them, and just hoping it would go okay. I knew I couldn't be sure that either of them would sleep through the night, and I didn't know what they would feel like waking up in the morning without Mummy or Daddy there. Bennie was staying with them, and sleeping with Arthur where Neil would normally be.
At 8.50pm the midwife turned off the syntocinon drip to set up my second round of IV antibiotics. She said it would be fine to turn off the syntocinon for the 20 minutes it would take to run the antibiotics, but after that they would turn the syntocinon drip up because my contractions were spacing apart a little. While I had my antibiotics, they checked my cervix again, and I'm so frustrated that I can't remember anything about it, nor do I have any record of how dilated I was at that check!!! Tsk. I THINK I was 2 or 3cm or something like that. Nothing more amazing or reassuring than that, and it made them even more determined to turn up the syntocinon when it went back on, to make my contractions more strong and effective. I was a bit disheartened, but I knew I was on a DRUG that would make my body do it in the end, so I didn't have the "urgh, my body's not doing it!" vibe/anxiety, and also I remembered the last time I was in labour and was only 3cm when the midwife checked me, but Matthew was born less than 2 hours later! ;) So I took heart and was not too discouraged. The staff were not pessimistic with me at all, and that helped. Neil got back from putting the boys to bed, and we settled in for the long-haul of the night where we knew our tiny baby boy would be born!
After the antibiotics finished, they set up the syntocinon again and turned it up. I did notice "improvement", shall we say (!), in the contractions pretty much straight away, but managed them fine. They were pleased with the effect and didn't turn it up any more, just let labour progress, so that was nice. It was very late in the evening - maybe nearer midnight? - when I noticed I would have to stop talking to deal with a contraction. The midwife and student (who took over from the lovely funny one earlier!) were very chatty with me which was nice, and I talked to them a lot. I remember being mid-chat and having to cut off mid-sentence and say, "Hang on a minute" and then just face ahead, focus on the little circular thing on the baby "warmer" in front of the bed, and just breathe as steadily and carefully as I could, blowing out gently. After that contraction, I started to resume the chatter as usual and the midwife said, "Ah! You're having to stop talking now, that's good!" and that's when it occurred to me for the first time that I was, and that meant progress, yay!
Sometime between midnight and 2am I had another round of IV antibiotics (my last one - they only give 3 rounds) and they let me rest with the lights dimmed right down. I wasn't struggling at all with the contractions, though it hurt and I needed to breathe to deal with them. I could do so quietly and in a very focused way, and then get back to normal right as the contraction faded off. I didn't feel AT ALL in need of pain relief, and that was so nice and empowering! I didn't even use my TENS! They kept on telling me how wonderfully I was doing, and I felt a little confused by it because I was sure I couldn't possibly cope so well till the actual birth, or surely it meant that things weren't progressing as far as we all thought?! But it was fine to manage at that point, and I was glad of it. I had a little rest and closed my eyes, but didn't sleep. Neil reclined on the chair as best he could and tried to nap. We were disturbed a bit by blood pressure checks and so on, and obviously a hospital isn't a quiet enough place to really rest, but it was a nice respite. If I had to pee (and they wanted me to a lot), they put a cardboard bedpan under me, which was a DIFFICULT manouvre and very uncomfortable! I was able to actually pee fine and quite frequently, so that was good. It's never helpful if you have a bladderful while trying to move a baby down and out! ;)
Here's the first of two photos taken in the delivery room (the other is after Nathan was born, later on in this story!), of me resting around this time:
Labour plodded on fairly intensely but manageably for the next couple of hours after that, and then I can't remember exactly when, but sometime before 5am I was NOT managing contractions so well at all! They were too intense and sharp and searing and I was finding that breathing and focusing were just not cutting it. I was contorting my hands and feet more (an actual sign that a woman is in more advanced labour) and saying, "Ow" more in a slightly heightened tone of voice, and feeling more tense. I was finding the tension much harder to relax against, and couldn't breathe myself over the peak of the pain - instead I would find the pain engulfing me and then I'd clutch about with tension in my body, feeling anxious and asking for help, etc. It was exactly how it went with Matthew's labour, and I recognised it. And it unnerved me because I knew how the REST of Matthew's labour went from then on! Scary and indescribably painful! So I was not at ease, to say the least! I began to need the midwives and Neil to help me through the contractions, and it became a case of surviving a contraction and then feeling anxious about the next one before it even arrived, and not knowing how to deal with another. They started to try me in different positions to try to help me with the pain, and very quickly I got so that every position just felt worse than the last one, and I couldn't put myself in ANY position that didn't feel unbearable. It was EXACTLY the same as Matthew. Exactly.
The only reassuring thing was that when things felt like that with Matthew, it was very close to when he was born, and things moved fast. I am not sure how clear I was in my mind at the time that I might be getting into transition. It just felt like I couldn't possibly manage another contraction, and I felt anxious and my noise levels were rising and rising. Not useful earthy-birthy noises, more higher pitched stuff that indicates NOT relaxing and dealing with anxiety instead. Not good! But I felt overwhelmed, and unable to control anything, and like I was going under. At that point, around 5.15am or maybe a little after that time, they wanted to check me to see how dilated I was, and I consented, but oh my GOSH it was so painful. They tried to check me between contractions but they were coming thick and fast so that wasn't easy. I yelled and wailed in pain while they did the examination, and was absolutely losing it after they finished, just writhing about and wailing and NOT managing the pain at all. I couldn't catch my breath when it hurt, and I couldn't take people asking me questions, and I couldn't keep still for the life of me because it just HURT. SO. MUCH. all the time. The midwife asked me if I wanted an epidural because their examination showed that I wasn't "there" yet, I was only 7cm dilated. She said it could go quickly or it might not, so if I was struggling then maybe I should consider pain relief. I really didn't want to get any, but I was thrown by the 7cm thing, and too confused to think clearly about the reality of how long it might take, and whether I could do it without help. While I was trying to process all this I had another huge contraction which I writhed and rocked and clutched and wailed through, and as that faded off I consented to an epidural. Once that was DONE in my mind, decision made, I just hoped they could hurry up as fast as possible and help me find some relief from the insurmountable pain. I just felt scared and panicked by how overwhelming it was, and so anxious about the next contraction and the next. I really didn't know how I could bear even one more.
Obviously the anaesthetist does not magically appear in the doorway the instant a labouring woman says breathlessly, "Please give me an epidural!" - it takes an insanely unbearable amount of time for them to be paged, finish what they're doing, stroll along the hallways, etc, and finally arrive ready to relieve you of much-pain! Sometimes they're in the middle of something so they can't come for a while (it was 45 minutes with Arthur - absolute torment, as I recall!). But they went away and came back quite quickly saying the anaesthetist had been paged and was on his/her way (I can't remember if it was a he or a she now).
So it really wasn't very long at all before he/she arrived, but I have no proper recollection of time, so I can't really say how long it was! I guess it was pretty quick since my memory says that, and usually time is exaggeratedly SLOW when waiting for pain relief, so it MUST have been quick, lol!
Meanwhile I had a couple more incredibly difficult contractions, and was very noisy and panicked dealing with them. They had raised the head of my bed up as high as it would go, almost upright, and I was kneeling on the bed hanging onto the top of the bed for dear life, clutching the rubbery mattress for all I was worth and trying to bear the pain. I remember I was gyrating my hips like crazy at that point just because it seemed like I had to fidget in that way, I couldn't not. It was part of coping with the physical sensation, but I know I hadn't needed to before then. I'm sure that was part of the stage of labour I'd reached, and I was unconsciously bringing my baby down as my cervix finished dilating.
There was a millisecond (or two) where I felt a bit sick, and INSTANTLY I flashbacked to Matthew's labour, and KNEW with absolute clarity that I was done with the first stage of labour. It all moved so fast with Matthew's labour that I had like 2 seconds of mild nausea and then it went and my womb immediately starting FORCING that baby out! So I remembered that very clearly all of a sudden, and became weirdly alert, though still feeling panicky, because the second stage was full of horrible and scary (and painful) sensations with Matthew, and I hadn't really got over that. So I was anxious about that being right around the corner, even if it meant I had nearly made it!
Then I remember the next contraction starting, and automatically doing the hip swing thing again, but the sensation shifted gear and I could feel a pressure as Nathan's head descended. It felt like I had a baby in my BOWEL and the sensation scared me (as it did with Matthew) in the same way you'd probably feel more than a little panicked if you went to the toilet for a random BM and once there realised that your BM was the size of a watermelon, and what's more there was no "containing" it - it was about to come out whether you liked it or not, and whatever it did to your body in the process! I just find it so scary. It's nearly 16 months ago and my heart is racing just writing this. It is NOT a nice memory. Which is why I've put off writing about it all this time. The birth of my baby is wonderful and elating, and I do look back fondly and am so very glad of the experience. But I can't shake the feelings and sensations associated with it, and honestly it's just a whole load of PANIC, fear, pain and other sensations that I can't even put words to, for me. I wish wish wish I could see it and experience it differently. I never used to view birth this way! I was confident before I ever gave birth, with a midwifery background and an addiction to birth! ;) And confident again after Arthur's birth, which was very very different, slow, controlled, and without sensation at the end, given that I had an epidural. I pushed for 2 hours without any urge to push and it was hard work. It hurt when his shoulders were delivered, but that's about it really. It had no resemblence to my next two births WHATSOEVER. Seriously.
So, there I was, wiggling my hips and feeling that baby boy descend and fill me out where it felt VERY uncomfortable to be filled out! For the 3rd time running, I had NO urge to push (I have never had that! What is up with that?!), just a horrible sensation of needing to poop a watermelon at speed. There was a sort of weird sensation alongside the contraction that maaayyybe felt like a bearing down sensation, but not one that I was overwhelmed with the urge to go along with and push, more like being aware that my body was bearing down whether I joined in or not. And I wailed out (loudly!), "I'm pooing, I'm pushing, I'm pooing, I'm pushing!" JUST as the anaesthetist walked through the doorway, hehe! He/she pivoted neatly on a heel and walked right back out again without a word, haha! ;)
After that we began my version of The Second Stage of Labour. This is FAST. I told the midwife several times that I birth FAST, and she assured me that they would be ready, but I could see right there that they were not "ready" like she had said they would be! They had no gloves on yet, and were still prettily unfolding the sterile delivery pack on the stainless steel trolley! I knew (as I'd told them!) that the MINUTE I started yelling about pooing or pushing that they only had like seconds before the baby would be born, and I remember even in the midst of all of it feeling exasperated that they hadn't heeded my warning to a T! Tsk. The other thing about The Second Stage of Labour for me is that it's scary and noisy. The sensations as the baby bullets down (and I don't use that word lightly) are just overwhelming and unbearable. Every contraction makes me wail out this high-pitched open-mouthed primal wail - it's not a scream, but it's a noisy wail if I ever heard one! ;) I REALLY really really don't like making that noise, but it's just like with Matthew's birth, I find that I have no control over it whatsoever. It seems to be reserved for the 2nd stage in place of pushing. Instead of an urge to push, I get an urge to wail like that. My babies are borne down and out by wailing. At the same time I'm in total panic over the sensation, and honestly it's like the whole rest of my body is desperately wanting to climb UP and away from the sensation lower down! There's no sense of wanting or needing to bear down with the baby to help him be born, just a need to escape the sensations in an upward direction! And to just slow it down, there's a real urgency in me to want it all to slow down. It's just too fast and I find it very hard to cope with the sensations that go with such speed. All those tissues have to just instantaneously be stretched and that HURTS, people. Hurts hurts hurts. In my diary entry later in the day after I gave birth, I said that I couldn't describe the PAIN in the second stage as he birthed, and that's the truth of it.
I was still leaning over the raised top of the bed, kneeling upright. I felt panicked and out of control, and Neil was round the top of the bed face-to-face with me. I remember clutching at him for HELP, any help, during a contraction, and feeling sooooooooo bad that I was staring wide-eyed with terror into his eyes and wailing as loud as I ever have. I knew my eyes were sure to be a picture of terror and pain, and even as it happened I felt bad that he was seeing that in me. This all sounds so OTT, doesn't it, and like it's a bit nuts of me, or like I'm over-exaggerating. Well, I promise you I'm not. Maybe it is OTT, but that is genuinely my experience of birth and how I WISH it was not like that! It seems/feels totally out of my control though, and so this is my experience. This is what I have been talking about when I say I don't cope too well, and I haven't wanted to write about Nathan's birth yet, and I'm really really anxious about giving birth again this time! I hope this birth account makes that a bit more clear for people reading here! I feel embarrassed to write it all because, well, just because. But it's Nathan's birth story, and I want to have everything recorded, so here it is anyway.
So where was I? Oh yes. Exactly like Matthew's birth, I felt Nathan's head corkscrew and descend right to crowning in about 2 seconds with one contraction. Or at least it seemed like a corkscrew kind of sensation anyway. The midwife was rushing about at that point, still not gloved-up properly and obviously taken aback at how fast he was coming, haha! I TOLD her! ;) She was barking very serious-sounding commands at people (staff) and I could tell she was hurrying to be ready to catch Nathan, and having some feeling that she might not make it with her gloves on or the delivery pack ready. We had a paediatrician in the room at this point because Nathan was born before term. And there seemed more people than usual, but I honestly wasn't taking much notice. There was a lot of bustle. I wasn't watching that end because of the position I was in. There was no slowing as Nathan crowned, as far as my body was concerned. I remember them saying frantically, "Don't push, don't push!" as his head crowned (which was a slow "pop" as I recall, a smooth 2 or 3 seconds from crowning to "popped out"!). I wasn't pushing at all, my body just kept the bearing down pressure going without me having any say in the matter. I did try to pant for some reason at that point, which I now think was daft of me because I wasn't even pushing! But at least it gave me a focus for a few seconds.
Nathan's head popped out and I don't know if anyone was attending it as such, though they were around the bed (they didn't have their gloves on ready yet! Really, the whole descending/crowning/birthing bit was about 60 seconds, and remember they were prettily unfolding the delivery pack when it started, hehe! The gloves are sterile, so they have to be put on "just so", which takes too long!). As with Matthew, the head popping out was instantly (within a second) followed by a sort of hefty but slippery corkscrew sensation inside and I felt his shoulders go "flick-flack" as they flipped out one by one as he rotated, and then it was over!
Instantly the pain and horribleness was GONE, and all I wanted was to see my new baby boy! I was facing away from him as he'd been born between my legs behind me, and I was just looking at the back of the bed, the wall beyond it, and my somewhat pale and traumatised-looking husband, who was moving round the bed to see the baby. Neil said when he looked at Nathan he just saw this tiny weeny little person sitting bolt upright on the bed, haha! The midwife had at least managed to take hold of him and held him sitting upright on the bed behind me while she called for help with something or other! I didn't seem to be able to twist round far enough to see him without shifting my knees from their kneeling position, and I didn't know where Nathan was or the umbilical cord or anything, so I didn't feel safe moving. I just kept saying, "I can't see him! I can't see him!" and then I think maybe somebody helped me move a little, or lifted something for me so that I could see it was safe to move a knee and rotate a little bit (I can't remember, I was just intent on seeing him and not noticing what anyone around me was doing), and there he was. He was still semi-sitting on the bed, and I was instantly hit like a sledgehammer with inconceivable love for this new precious little person. I think I may have even gasped out loud as I clapped eyes on his tiny body. The first thing I saw about him was how BEAUTIFUL he was, and I was still in my half-twisted kneeling position with my backside on show to the world, as I wailed out joyfully, "Ohhhh, he's so BEAUTIFUL! He's so gorgeous!" I have never done that before with my other babies at birth (though I thought they were beautiful too!), but this time it just overwhelmed me and I couldn't have kept quiet for anything.
I really don't remember too much else. I was helped to turn around and lay down reclining against the bed end, which was lowered somewhat for me, and then Nathan was laid on my tummy/chest inside my unbuttoned nightie, to help him keep warm.
He cried as soon as he was born and he had great Apgar scores (I think?? Or 8 and 10 or something great like that, for 35 weeks!). The midwife (sounding much calmer!) asked Neil if he wanted to cut the cord and he got up to do so, but he had actually flaked out lying on the recliner next to the bed because he came over faint and got scared he'd pass out! The midwife didn't notice this so she asked him cheerfully to come and cut the cord, and I think he did so, but it took him a while to recover and feel better. When she realised later, the midwife apologised to him for making him get up and cut the cord! ;) It surprised me that Neil came over faint when he had delivered his last baby himself! ;) I don't think he even saw Nathan born, being so busy with me at the "head end". He has always said that birth makes him squeamish, but he did great delivering Matthew!
I was found to have a second degree tear AGAIN. *sigh* Even with a tinier baby. They wondered at first if it was just a 1st degree tear, but it was just into 2nd degree territory. I was stitched up, which I really really really don't like and get very anxious and shaky and adrenaliney, but oh well. Oh, and I think I had a straightforward 3rd stage. I got a nice contraction and gave a push and out came the placenta, not too long after Nathan was born. I just held him as long as I could until they wanted to weigh him and check him (while I was stitched). He weighed 5lbs 13oz and was 48cm long (19 inches - the same length as Matthew when he was born at 41 weeks!!!). He had a little trouble maintaining his body temperature, but everything else was fine, and we were so amazed that he had arrived and was doing so well!
Nathan Martin was born at 5.42am on January 12th 2008 - my brother's birthday! My lovely brother spent his birthday at our house caring for our little boys, until my parents arrived (exhausted!) and took over. Nathan had no GBS related problems, and had the all-clear to go home just a couple of days after birth, having stayed on the ward with me during that time. I have been absolutely in love with him since I first laid eyes on him, and the intensity of that has continued these past 16 months! I'm nervous about giving birth again, but ohhhhhh how WORTH IT it was! :)
It's blurry, I know (the camera finally died 6 days later), but here is my sweet new tiny boy a few hours after he was born:
That first night in the hospital, where I couldn't sleep because I just wanted to hold him and gaze at him ALL NIGHT LONG:
Tiny boy with Daddy, one day old:
Fast asleep exactly as he really should still be at 36 weeks gestation on that day - one day old:
My perfect baby boy. Thank you Lord, for sweet little Nathan! What a gift he has been to us!
Recent entries.....
Babies 7 and 8! :) - 2016-01-10
Babies 6 and 7! - 2013-02-17
Baby #5 !! - 2010-04-03
Nearly 3 months postpartum! - 2009-10-05
6 weeks old already! - 2009-08-25