lilacmonkey87
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Hey Up!!
Thought its about time i shared my experiance on here!
So...Due Date was the 3rd of March...it came...it went. Well and truly sulking by this point and desperate to get on with the job in hand to say the least...on the 4th, i decided to take my two boxers for a run on the lanes in a hopeful attempt to start labour. Delighted when my plug started to come away at about 9pm that night...followed an hour later by period style cramping. At about 1 am i was experiancing mild contractions coming every 15 minutes, very similar to those that i had experianced while miscarrying my first pregnancy back in 09. I decided it probs best to get some rest, but found i could only toss and turn! the contractions carried on but were quite erratic coming at different times with some contractions longer than others...so at 7am i called the delivery suite to let them know i had started in labour so they could let the community midwife know who would be attending me during labour and also called my mum to let her know things had kicked off...shortly followed by a trip to the loo to find a bloody show...shocked and weirded out by how much of it there was...i started to panic a little as it sunk in that the baby really was on his way.
The rest of the day was pretty boring. Erratic, mild, "slow labour" contractions...i had gotten to a point were i was doing my best to ignore them now it had gone on that long. So i occupied my self by whackin out some drum and bass on the turntables before finally becoming fed up and calling my community midwife, Sharon, at about 6ish...she agreed to come and see how i was getting on. At about 8pm upon doing an internal she found me to be 4cm dialated. the contractions were stronger by this point but still totally manageable...my confidance was oozing...i felt quite motivated in myself with a general feeling of "i CAN do this" after months of being terrified during pregnancy!
Four hours passed us by...and at 11.50pm Sharon announced that it was time for another internal. It was extremely uncomfortable, i wasnt in the mood to co operate and kept trying to scoot up the sofa, then Sharon dropped the big one and told me that i was only 5cm. OMG. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as panic set in, i knew what was going to happen next...Sharon confirmed that she would indeed have to break my waters to accelerate labour. i was finding the internal increasingly more uncomfy...as well as tensing up, i was contracting also leaving Sharons hand up my vag while we waited for it to pass...i was mortified, with my boyfriend Miles at my right and my mum hovering behind Sharon. It was suggested to me that i might like to try gas and air, like a little girl with tears running down my cheeks, i quietly agreed. I put the mouth piece to my lips and took a pull of the gas and air. As sharon attempted to break my waters, i began quickly sucking in the gas when the bleeding thing came apart and i was left squealing in panic into a mouth piece with the gage in the other hand as my head felt like it was swimming on booze, i spat out the mouthpiece and promptly began really panicking as i tried to regain some of the control over my brain. I was SHITTING myself. I was no longer the confidant 23 year old that i had been four hours before, my cheeks were damp from tears and i was practically on the verge of having a panic attack. As i came round from the gas and air i felt a warm flush between my legs followed by relief that the internal was over and that breaking my waters had been a success.
My body then gave me 10 minutes. 10 minutes to drag myself off the corner suite and climb into the birthing pool before my fears were confirmed by that first contraction. Sharon told me to think of my contractions as a hilltop...building up, hitting a peak and then down the hill. Bobbing away with myself in the pool i announced that i was making my way up the hill only this hill wasnt like all the others...there was only one thing for it and that was to yell at the top of my voice...
"OH MY GOOOOD".
It seemed to me like it was all peak and no downhill for an eternity, when i finally began tumbling down that steep hill i was convinced that i COULDNT do this at all and immediately began telling everyone in the room...
"I cant do this...i cant i cant"
Panic had well and truly set in as i convinced myself that i had hours to go as i had to dialate another 5cms before it would all start coming to an end. Sharon continued to tell me otherwise..."Zoe...You're doing it love". My response was "No Sharon I CANT F*CKING DO IT". As i made my way up another steep hill, all i could manage was "Oh Mum". The pool began making me feel like i was diseased, the high walls...the smell...it was disgusting. I felt all clammy and my hair was a mess...gutted as i had stupidly spent time doing my hair and make up during the early stages wanting to "look nice for my son"...how bloody ridiculous. My mum, sharon and miles all stood at the pools edge...egging me on, trying to keep me focused...all that crap telling me to breathe etc. This went on for an hour after my waters had ruptured when contractions took a different turn, they were no longer at the front like normal contractions but all in my back...thanks to Luca being spine to spine. the pressure during the contractions was unbelievable. I yelled at sharon again, this time with "Something is WRONG sharon...nothing is happening...something is WRONG". A few minutes later i began feeling like i needed to push...convinced that it was a trick of the mind as i couldnt possibly be fully dialated yet as it had only been an hour. Again i was shouting out "Something is wrong" and "I cant do this"...no longer panic...it was now sheer terror as the pains in my back became thick and fast. Miles made his way up stairs to get changed with the intention of getting in the pool with me to comfort me. I had other idea's..."No I need a shit...i need a shit". By this point ladies...dignity and whatever else...all those personal hang ups went out the window. I didnt give a flying headbutt...i did what i had to in my own way to get through it and with no pain relief at hand except that evil gas and air, all i had to work with was profanities.
Miles made his way back to the pool to find i wasnt in it. There i was on the sofa...on all fours biting down on a cushion with my arse in the air professing that i needed to push. Sharon told me to go on and listen to what my body was telling me but i was still convinced something wasnt quite right, i still felt like i needed a crap. The pressure in my back was enormous by this point and i had forgotten about the hill, it was all about needing a shit. Like i had been constipated for those 9months instead of being pregnant. "No Sharon im gonna poo...i need to poo"...as a little nugget presented itself. Sharon assured me that it was QUITE alright, that it was a sign that things were well underway and cleared away my little mess.
Things got really hard from this point onwards as i began trying to push my son out. With nothing but that awful pressure in my back...i was trying to push and felt like i couldnt bear down properly. Again with the "Something is wrong" with a few apologies thrown in as i blurted out to sharon and my mum that i was crap at this. Sharon confirmed that i was fully dialated and rang for a second midwife. Fully dialated...THANK GOD!!! That confidance from earlier kicked back in as i willed myself to find the strength to push out my baby. I was all over the place, on all fours grabbing onto miles for extra support while leaving a few bite marks on his forearms, i squatted...the lot! Before finally i went into some sort of mode. I spun round...slid on my back holding on to the second midwife Stacey, with my mum holding my left foot and my other on Sharons shoulder, with miles sat at the right of me, i really went for it...pushing like it was coming from nowhere. and quite literally as i couldnt feel contractions anymore, all sharon kept saying was "with this next contraction..." leaving me bemused as to what she was talking about. i could now feel his head moving down with each push and could visibly see my bump going from a hard rock to "Jelly Belly". My mum squealed in delight that she could see his head followed by "Come on Baba...push! you can do it...omg he has lots of hair!". Sharon asked me to "pant", i listened to her orders but couldnt help but blurt out "Is it ginger?". 5 seconds later at 02.12am, Luca Miles was born with his hand up against his face (possibly the reason why labour didnt progress normally with the added help of him being occiput posterior). His cord was wrapped loosely around his neck and slipped over his shoulders, weighing 6lb 15oz. He was passed straight to me and i all could muster was "Hello" when i realised he wasnt crying, dribbling mucus on to my boob, "why isnt he crying?" i stressed. "Is he alright?" i asked. Both sharon and stacey assured me he was fine, his apgar was 9. No rush of undeniable love that i had been expecting but ill never forget him trying to lift his head to look up at me.
Miles cut the cord and Stacey then passed Luca over so he could have a cuddle with his daddy. This is when the shit hit the fan. Within seconds Luca went blue and floppy, next thing stacey had him on the floor with an ambubag and he was being rescusitated. Sharon was on the phone requesting immediate assistance, it was like...no in fact worse than a bad dream. i felt like i wasnt really there, like i was on the ceiling looking down on someone elses life. at 5 minutes he had stopped breathing all together, a paramedics team arrived, miles went with them under blue lights as our son was rushed to SCBU. I didnt know what the fuck was happening, another team turned up for me 10 minutes later while i was trying to birth the placenta but contractions had deserted me long ago and i could no longer focus so I had the injection to get the placenta out. Sharon confirmed i had torn and would need suturing as i had a 2nd degree tear to the perineum and labial lacerations extending up the right side stopping not very far from my clitoris!! what a bitch that was. As i was being wheeled out of the house by a charming young man, miles phoned to say that Luca was fine and that he had heard him crying. Luca had neonatal hypothermia on admission. He spent 4 days on SCBU while they did some tests to see if they could find out what had caused him to stop breathing. They came back with "Its just one of those things".
He'll be four weeks old on sunday, WOW! How quickly its gone already! But after a stressful entrance, Luca is a very chilled out baby, he feeds well and doesnt struggle getting his wind up, hes not a sicky baby and hes slept through every single night since we got him back from SCBU. So the birth was HORRIBLE but its been a blissful 3 weeks since he came home and i cant begin to believe how lucky i truly am, blessed with such a lovely baby!
So that ladies...is my ridiculously long birth story! For those of you that made it to the end...thanks for reading and good luck to all you ladies waiting for your little arrivals!
Zoe xxxx
Thought its about time i shared my experiance on here!
So...Due Date was the 3rd of March...it came...it went. Well and truly sulking by this point and desperate to get on with the job in hand to say the least...on the 4th, i decided to take my two boxers for a run on the lanes in a hopeful attempt to start labour. Delighted when my plug started to come away at about 9pm that night...followed an hour later by period style cramping. At about 1 am i was experiancing mild contractions coming every 15 minutes, very similar to those that i had experianced while miscarrying my first pregnancy back in 09. I decided it probs best to get some rest, but found i could only toss and turn! the contractions carried on but were quite erratic coming at different times with some contractions longer than others...so at 7am i called the delivery suite to let them know i had started in labour so they could let the community midwife know who would be attending me during labour and also called my mum to let her know things had kicked off...shortly followed by a trip to the loo to find a bloody show...shocked and weirded out by how much of it there was...i started to panic a little as it sunk in that the baby really was on his way.
The rest of the day was pretty boring. Erratic, mild, "slow labour" contractions...i had gotten to a point were i was doing my best to ignore them now it had gone on that long. So i occupied my self by whackin out some drum and bass on the turntables before finally becoming fed up and calling my community midwife, Sharon, at about 6ish...she agreed to come and see how i was getting on. At about 8pm upon doing an internal she found me to be 4cm dialated. the contractions were stronger by this point but still totally manageable...my confidance was oozing...i felt quite motivated in myself with a general feeling of "i CAN do this" after months of being terrified during pregnancy!
Four hours passed us by...and at 11.50pm Sharon announced that it was time for another internal. It was extremely uncomfortable, i wasnt in the mood to co operate and kept trying to scoot up the sofa, then Sharon dropped the big one and told me that i was only 5cm. OMG. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as panic set in, i knew what was going to happen next...Sharon confirmed that she would indeed have to break my waters to accelerate labour. i was finding the internal increasingly more uncomfy...as well as tensing up, i was contracting also leaving Sharons hand up my vag while we waited for it to pass...i was mortified, with my boyfriend Miles at my right and my mum hovering behind Sharon. It was suggested to me that i might like to try gas and air, like a little girl with tears running down my cheeks, i quietly agreed. I put the mouth piece to my lips and took a pull of the gas and air. As sharon attempted to break my waters, i began quickly sucking in the gas when the bleeding thing came apart and i was left squealing in panic into a mouth piece with the gage in the other hand as my head felt like it was swimming on booze, i spat out the mouthpiece and promptly began really panicking as i tried to regain some of the control over my brain. I was SHITTING myself. I was no longer the confidant 23 year old that i had been four hours before, my cheeks were damp from tears and i was practically on the verge of having a panic attack. As i came round from the gas and air i felt a warm flush between my legs followed by relief that the internal was over and that breaking my waters had been a success.
My body then gave me 10 minutes. 10 minutes to drag myself off the corner suite and climb into the birthing pool before my fears were confirmed by that first contraction. Sharon told me to think of my contractions as a hilltop...building up, hitting a peak and then down the hill. Bobbing away with myself in the pool i announced that i was making my way up the hill only this hill wasnt like all the others...there was only one thing for it and that was to yell at the top of my voice...
"OH MY GOOOOD".
It seemed to me like it was all peak and no downhill for an eternity, when i finally began tumbling down that steep hill i was convinced that i COULDNT do this at all and immediately began telling everyone in the room...
"I cant do this...i cant i cant"
Panic had well and truly set in as i convinced myself that i had hours to go as i had to dialate another 5cms before it would all start coming to an end. Sharon continued to tell me otherwise..."Zoe...You're doing it love". My response was "No Sharon I CANT F*CKING DO IT". As i made my way up another steep hill, all i could manage was "Oh Mum". The pool began making me feel like i was diseased, the high walls...the smell...it was disgusting. I felt all clammy and my hair was a mess...gutted as i had stupidly spent time doing my hair and make up during the early stages wanting to "look nice for my son"...how bloody ridiculous. My mum, sharon and miles all stood at the pools edge...egging me on, trying to keep me focused...all that crap telling me to breathe etc. This went on for an hour after my waters had ruptured when contractions took a different turn, they were no longer at the front like normal contractions but all in my back...thanks to Luca being spine to spine. the pressure during the contractions was unbelievable. I yelled at sharon again, this time with "Something is WRONG sharon...nothing is happening...something is WRONG". A few minutes later i began feeling like i needed to push...convinced that it was a trick of the mind as i couldnt possibly be fully dialated yet as it had only been an hour. Again i was shouting out "Something is wrong" and "I cant do this"...no longer panic...it was now sheer terror as the pains in my back became thick and fast. Miles made his way up stairs to get changed with the intention of getting in the pool with me to comfort me. I had other idea's..."No I need a shit...i need a shit". By this point ladies...dignity and whatever else...all those personal hang ups went out the window. I didnt give a flying headbutt...i did what i had to in my own way to get through it and with no pain relief at hand except that evil gas and air, all i had to work with was profanities.
Miles made his way back to the pool to find i wasnt in it. There i was on the sofa...on all fours biting down on a cushion with my arse in the air professing that i needed to push. Sharon told me to go on and listen to what my body was telling me but i was still convinced something wasnt quite right, i still felt like i needed a crap. The pressure in my back was enormous by this point and i had forgotten about the hill, it was all about needing a shit. Like i had been constipated for those 9months instead of being pregnant. "No Sharon im gonna poo...i need to poo"...as a little nugget presented itself. Sharon assured me that it was QUITE alright, that it was a sign that things were well underway and cleared away my little mess.
Things got really hard from this point onwards as i began trying to push my son out. With nothing but that awful pressure in my back...i was trying to push and felt like i couldnt bear down properly. Again with the "Something is wrong" with a few apologies thrown in as i blurted out to sharon and my mum that i was crap at this. Sharon confirmed that i was fully dialated and rang for a second midwife. Fully dialated...THANK GOD!!! That confidance from earlier kicked back in as i willed myself to find the strength to push out my baby. I was all over the place, on all fours grabbing onto miles for extra support while leaving a few bite marks on his forearms, i squatted...the lot! Before finally i went into some sort of mode. I spun round...slid on my back holding on to the second midwife Stacey, with my mum holding my left foot and my other on Sharons shoulder, with miles sat at the right of me, i really went for it...pushing like it was coming from nowhere. and quite literally as i couldnt feel contractions anymore, all sharon kept saying was "with this next contraction..." leaving me bemused as to what she was talking about. i could now feel his head moving down with each push and could visibly see my bump going from a hard rock to "Jelly Belly". My mum squealed in delight that she could see his head followed by "Come on Baba...push! you can do it...omg he has lots of hair!". Sharon asked me to "pant", i listened to her orders but couldnt help but blurt out "Is it ginger?". 5 seconds later at 02.12am, Luca Miles was born with his hand up against his face (possibly the reason why labour didnt progress normally with the added help of him being occiput posterior). His cord was wrapped loosely around his neck and slipped over his shoulders, weighing 6lb 15oz. He was passed straight to me and i all could muster was "Hello" when i realised he wasnt crying, dribbling mucus on to my boob, "why isnt he crying?" i stressed. "Is he alright?" i asked. Both sharon and stacey assured me he was fine, his apgar was 9. No rush of undeniable love that i had been expecting but ill never forget him trying to lift his head to look up at me.
Miles cut the cord and Stacey then passed Luca over so he could have a cuddle with his daddy. This is when the shit hit the fan. Within seconds Luca went blue and floppy, next thing stacey had him on the floor with an ambubag and he was being rescusitated. Sharon was on the phone requesting immediate assistance, it was like...no in fact worse than a bad dream. i felt like i wasnt really there, like i was on the ceiling looking down on someone elses life. at 5 minutes he had stopped breathing all together, a paramedics team arrived, miles went with them under blue lights as our son was rushed to SCBU. I didnt know what the fuck was happening, another team turned up for me 10 minutes later while i was trying to birth the placenta but contractions had deserted me long ago and i could no longer focus so I had the injection to get the placenta out. Sharon confirmed i had torn and would need suturing as i had a 2nd degree tear to the perineum and labial lacerations extending up the right side stopping not very far from my clitoris!! what a bitch that was. As i was being wheeled out of the house by a charming young man, miles phoned to say that Luca was fine and that he had heard him crying. Luca had neonatal hypothermia on admission. He spent 4 days on SCBU while they did some tests to see if they could find out what had caused him to stop breathing. They came back with "Its just one of those things".
He'll be four weeks old on sunday, WOW! How quickly its gone already! But after a stressful entrance, Luca is a very chilled out baby, he feeds well and doesnt struggle getting his wind up, hes not a sicky baby and hes slept through every single night since we got him back from SCBU. So the birth was HORRIBLE but its been a blissful 3 weeks since he came home and i cant begin to believe how lucky i truly am, blessed with such a lovely baby!
So that ladies...is my ridiculously long birth story! For those of you that made it to the end...thanks for reading and good luck to all you ladies waiting for your little arrivals!
Zoe xxxx
would love to see a picture of your boy!!
will be doing this too methinks!
xx
