My due date was November 1 (Saturday) and as per the post below, nothing had started and it didn't seem like anything was going to start any time soon. However, just after 3am on Sunday morning, I awoke suddenly and suspected my waters had broken. I wasn't convinced and even after a trip to the toilet I still wasn't sure so I went back to bed. A few minutes later it seemed that my first instinct was right and it was definitely my waters breaking. Nick called the hospital who told us we should come in right away. We weren't sure if this meant I was about to be admitted or not, but we took my hospital bag and jumped in a cab. Five minutes later we were at the hospital.
As the Birthing Center was my preferred option, we went there (which is actually on the same floor as the Labour Ward, but at the other end and run entirely by midwives), and the midwife on duty did all the relevant tests (baby's heart rate, blood pressure, internal exam etc) which were all fine, but as contractions hadn't started they sent me home after a couple of hours. Ideally, they were hoping that contractions would begin naturally within 18 hours of the waters first breaking (a protocol which is different in every country it seems) but if they didn't I was to go back to have intravenous antibiotics (as infections can reach the baby after the waters break) and to be induced.
We returned home Sunday morning and I got a few more hours sleep and waited around to see if contractions would start. After about 5.30pm, I began having very mild, very irregular contractions but it didn't seem promising given the deadline. At 8.30pm we went back to the hospital and headed for the Birthing Center. Although 'intravenous antibiotics' should have given it away, we didn't realise that this meant the Birthing Center would not admit me and I would have to go the Labour Ward...that was my entire birth plan out the window! I was a bit annoyed and frustrated but we headed to the Labour Ward where they first fought over the 18 hour protocol, but then proceeded to admit me. To be honest, we still weren't entirely sure at this stage what the plan was - we hadn't been certain when we left home whether I would be admitted or whether I would just be given antibiotics and sent home again (we were hazy on the plans regarding the induction). However we were to be definitely admitted and so we wouldn't be leaving again until we had a baby to take with us! Waiting around for the action to start -
I was immediately put on a monitor by my midwife, given the intravenous antibiotics (of course, at this stage I was still objecting to having an IV line put into my hand as I hate needles - in the context of things to come, this was the least of my worries!), and as my cervix was considered 'very unfavourable', I was given prostaglandin (a hormone gel applied internally) to bring on contractions. However neither the midwife nor the doctor who came in soon after seemed very convinced that this would work and advised me that if labour hadn't progressed sufficiently after 6 hours, I would be given a synotocin drip - a hardcore, chemical induction that I had read brought on contractions very quickly and painfully - exactly the kind of medical intervention I was hoping to avoid.
It was getting close to midnight by this time and while contractions had started I was still fairly comfortable so Nick tried to grab some sleep before action kicked off. By 1am, the contractions had escalated and when I asked the midwife 'what now', she basically told me to wait with a wry grin on her face. By 2am I was in considerable pain and I woke up Nick to time my contractions which we quickly realised were 2 minutes apart with at least every second one lasting over a minute. After patiently timing contractions for about 30 minutes, I asked for gas and air from another midwife who offered some type of codeine/paracetamol tablets instead. I took them as they were the only thing seemingly on offer but just shortly after I was in so much pain that I was vomiting after the more violent contractions and finally with our timings, vomiting and absolutely no help from the tablets, my midwife seemed to believe that labour had really started!
On examination, she found that I was 4cm dilated - obviously much further progressed than she had thought possible. She immediately gave me gas and air which I took to enthusiastically (although, as they say, it's not pain relief as such but helps with the perception of the pain) and offered diamorphine which I jumped at (both of these options had been included in my original birth plan so I didn't have any issues with accepting). Even at this point I was asking that the diamorphine be injected through my IV rather than the usual needle in the thigh - now I can't believe I was still trying to avoid needles considering the pain I was in! I think by the time they gave me the injection in my thigh I barely noticed it. Unfortunately the midwife insisted that I be constantly monitored (I had almost refused to be examined as I had been standing the whole time to this point and firmly believed the pain would be too overwhelming if I had to lie on a bed), but with gas and air it was almost bearable. However the constant monitoring was another reason I had wanted to go to the Birthing Center - there they monitor with the hand-held Doppler every 15 minutes to allow you every chance to move around.
It was probably around 4am by the time I got the diamorphine injection and for the next couple of hours I faded in and out just trying to cope with the pain. Nick had bought a little speaker for our iPods and I had created a 'mellow' playlist (full of Powderfinger, The Dandy Warhols, Coldplay, The Verve, Blur, PJ Harvey...) so he put some music on and we kept the lights low so I could try and rest/relax as much as possible. Apparently I made a few random, drug-induced comments to Nick during this time - one I remember about some Powderfinger lyrics but I just couldn't find the words to say what I wanted and another about a movie we had watched on Sunday afternoon and an obscure plot development around a supporting character... Around 6am I was examined by another doctor who estimated I was 8cm dilated - very fast progress after the 4cm at 4am - and they began to make plans for me to start pushing around 7.30am.
By 7.30 the midwife started to encourage me to push but I remember being decidedly half-hearted about it at best. I think I was still affected by diamorphine at this stage and somehow believed the baby would find his own way out! However the shift change at 8am soon changed everything. Nick told me later that during handover (when there were suddenly 7 people in my room - 2 midwives, a student midwife, the ward sister, the doctor, the resident and a student doctor), my overnight midwife told the new midwife and new doctor that my pushing to date had been 'unproductive'. The continuous monitoring was also showing some fluctuations in the baby's heart rate which the doctor's immediately reacted to. Suddenly Nick realised they had set up to give me an episiotomy and a ventouse delivery - two things I wanted to avoid. I vaguely remember someone saying 'she doesn't want the epidural?' (again, trying to avoid needles!) but apart from that I was fairly unaware of what was going on. Nick started to speak up on my behalf, saying I definitely didn't want an epidural and not the episiotomy/ventouse either. Fortunately my new midwife believed I didn't need any of them and basically kicked the doctors out of my room telling them (and me) that I would push this baby out! They did give me a catheter though, something I had refused earlier (much to the annoyance of my midwife who then had to unhook me from all the machines), but I certainly wasn't planning to make my way to the toilet at this stage. I was also stuck in the traditional position - recumbent, feet in stirrups - which again was something I had been hoping to avoid as everything I had read said this wasn't the best way to give birth. I had tried to turn around earlier, but I just couldn't support myself comfortably so had turned around again.
With the ward sister at my side checking the monitor, the midwife 'catching', the student midwife assisting and the student doctor observing (after my ok - UCLH is a teaching hospital), they coached me through the next 30-40 minutes of pushing. Nick was on my other side giving me support and encouragement and somehow I made it through some intensely agonising pain to finally, at exactly 9am, deliver our beautiful baby boy. (Soundtrack: Snow Patrol featuring Martha Wainwright - 'Set The Fire to the Third Bar').
To say the relief was overwhelming is somewhat of an understatement! They placed him on my chest immediately and after a short cry he settled to be amazingly calm and placid. Two minutes after he was born (soundtrack: Blur - 'Tender') -
Just when I thought it was over however, the midwife began to deliver the placenta. I had the injection immediately after he was delivered to detach the placenta from the wall of the uterus and in many cases the placenta would be delivered by the midwife without much assistance. However apparently my umbilical cord was quite thin and they were worried that it would break if they pulled on it too much, so asked me to assist by pushing. My immediate reaction was 'no' - in my mind the pushing was over and I really didn't want to push any more! But again, they coached me through and only after a minute or so the placenta was delivered fully intact. Then they gave me a thorough examination and after debating the need, the midwife gave me a couple of internal stitches to be sure (finally I wasn't so worried about the needles for the local anesthetic required).
After that they took the baby (still unnamed at this point) and weighed, measured and gave him an injection of Vitamin K (to help blood clotting). Then they dressed him and wrapped him up and gave him back to me so we could stare in wonder at him some more.
A while later I went to the toilet (something they assess you on post-labour) and took a quick shower. By the time I got back they had changed the sheets and cleaned up and we all took a nap while they got us a bed in the Postnatal Ward. Around 2pm a midwife came to get us and transfer us upstairs. By this stage I was feeling quite well and comfortably walking around. Nick in the Postnatal Ward -
We were keen to get home if we could - the policy here is that after a 'normal' labour with a healthy baby you can leave after 6 hours (but can also request to stay as long as you need) - so after Milo (finally we had decided his name) was assessed by the pediatrician and we were cleared by the midwife, we were free to go and so were back home just after 6pm.
All in all, the labour was just under 10 hours. As for the pain, it is quite true what you hear about 'forgetting' how painful it is. Although I'm not sure 'forgetting' is the right word - it's more an abstract concept - I know it was unbearably painful but I can't remember exactly how painful because once he was delivered the pain was gone. Thankfully we were lucky that all went well, even with a false start and the induction, and Milo and I are both home and healthy!
