My induction date FINALLY arrived after what felt like about 4 years of waiting. I was so excited the night before I went into hospital that I only got about an hour of sleep. If I'd known how little sleep I was going to get over the next few days, I probably would have tried a bit harder to settle down!
We went into hospital armed with our overnight bags, books and snacks at 8 in the morning on Friday 5th April. A midwife showed us to the delivery room and ran through the procedure with me. I was a bit shocked to learn it could take up to 3 DAYS for the induction to work! The thought of still not having met my baby by Sunday night made me want to start fires. I was already 8 days overdue.
The midwife started the induction at 11am (I won't go into how - there's no need for that) and said that labour would hopefully kick in fairly soon - I was expecting something to happen that afternoon. She encouraged us to have a long walk round the hospital to help get it started, so we walked up and down the corridors, and sat in Costa with our coffees for about 3 hours before eventually making our way back up to the delivery room.
At about 8pm, my dad, Fi and Jude came up to visit. They weren't allowed in the delivery room, so we sat outside in the corridor on the floor, passing round the easter eggs and fudge my dad had bought me. By the time they left at 10ish, I was fairly certain that what I thought was trapped wind was actually the beginning of labour, and started to get excited. When I got back to the delivery room, the midwives had changed shifts, and the new midwife seemed friendly, offering us teas and coffees, and asking me to let her know as soon as I needed anything.
My contractions hadn't got any stronger by 11pm - at least, not according to the monitor I was hooked up to. I asked Ben to time them on his phone in between doing the crosswords. They were all erratic. I'd have one or two very close together, then none for about 15 minutes. The midwife seemed to think I'd get nowhere fast, and asked my mum and Ben to go home so I could 'get some rest'. I felt like laughing in her face. There was absolutely no way I was going to sleep through the contractions!
Mum and Ben weren't keen on leaving, either. It seemed ridiculous to send both my birth partners home when something was actually happening - if I'd been at home and gone into labour naturally, I'd have them with me, so what difference did it make, being in the hospital? The midwife was insistent though, and said that they ought to try and sleep as well, since tomorrow was going to be a big day. She gave me some Temazepan to help me sleep, and Mum and Ben reluctantly left, promising they'd come back as soon as I was in what the hospital considered 'established' labour.
That time came and went though, without anyone at the hospital letting them know.The midwife kept insisting I should go to bed, I couldn't imagine anything worse than just lying there, so I got up and bounced on the birthing ball I found in the cupboard until she came back and asked what I was doing up. I could tell she was getting a bit pissed off with me. She just wanted an easy shift, and I was getting in the way, being all in labour and stuff. She offered me pethedine, which I refused. I'd heard from loads of women that had been given it, including my mum, that it could make you feel really sick and out of control. So then she said she'd run me a bath. She went off to run it and then left.
While I was waiting for the water to cool down (she only ran the hot tap), I looked down and realised the floor and my nightie was covered in blood. When I called her back, she seemed completely unconcerned and said it was just my show. I knew it wasn't - it wasn't supposed to look like that, besides, I'd already had the show a week before. I told her I felt like I needed to push, and she said she thought I was just scared, and that I ought to just get in the bath, so I did and she left again.
After I somehow managed to get myself out the bath, I called the midwife back again, because the urge to push hadn't gone away and I was scared I'd give birth without my mum or Ben being there. She offered me pethedine again, and this time I said yes, feeling out of options. I have no idea what happened after that. I don't remember them giving it to me, or whether I was awake or asleep until my waters broke at 4am. I snapped back into life long enough to call the midwife back. A different midwife came in. I remember her saying 'Margaret's on her tea break, dear'. I thought, never mind your fucking tea, I'm in established labour now, call my mum! She went off to find Margaret (I wasn't going to mention her name, in case someone knew her, but never mind), but whether or not anyone came back to check on me is a mystery, because I had no idea what was going on. I wanted to call my mum myself, but my phone was on the bedside table, and I couldn't get up and reach it. It felt like the table was miles away.
At about 8am (I think), another midwife called Jenny had just started her shift and came in to check how dialated I was. I heard her say 'oh, blimey', and tell someone else in the room - god knows who - that I was 8cm dialated. She went off to call my mum and Ben, and mum suddenly appeared in the room. She was already in the lift up to the ward when she got the call. I practically collapsed with relief when she turned up. I asked Jenny if I could have an epidural, since that was my birth plan, and she said 'eeerm...' and reckoned I could do it without one, probably thinking it was too late. I reckoned otherwise. I went mental, and so did my mum - she was saying 'It's on her birth plan! She's had pericarditis, she needs it, give it to her!!'. She went off to get the anaesthetist and Ben turned up, looking a bit shocked at the state I was in.
The epidural didn't work - it had been left too late. All it did was give me cramp in my legs. I hadn't given much thought to the possibility that it wouldn't work when I was pregnant, so the pain was a complete shock. I asked for a cesarean, but Jenny just kept saying 'you don't need it, you're doing so well'. Was I hell. About an hour of pushing went by with no sign of the baby. I basically gave up. I was a mess. I'd had this image of my birthing experience being all calm and relaxed - nice music in the background, no screaming, no crying or anything. I couldn't have been more wrong! I was making noises I didn't even realise were coming from me. I threw up on myself a couple of times, I swore, I yelled, I apologised for swearing (apparently) and then carried on yelling. Mum, Ben and Jenny were laughing at how, as soon as a contraction eased off, I'd be all smiley and relaxed again, take a sip of water, have a little chat, then suddenly start screaming again. I asked Jenny to use forceps, because I'd completely had enough after nearly 2 hours of pushing. A doctor came and put me on a drip to make the contractions stronger, then decided I didn't need forceps after all, so that was extra pain for no reason. Jenny said she could see the head, and that the baby had a little bit of hair. She went and put her gloves on and I went for it.
After just over 2 hours of pushing, at 12.04 I finally heard Jenny say 'right, the heads out!', and then Ben and my mum crying and saying 'oh my god, I can see it!'. She told me to stop pushing for a second, then all of a sudden I had a baby plopped onto my chest! We all burst into tears. He looked absolutely perfect. I was completely overwhelmed with love and relief! I'd wanted to call him Dylan, and he certainly looked like one to me, so Dylan it was.
My phone started ringing about 30 seconds later - it was my dad, calling to see if there'd been any progress. Perfect timing! Ben picked it up tried to tell dad the baby was out, but we were all too emotional to make much sense. I heard dad say 'I'm coming down now!'. Then the midwives took Dylan off my chest to clean him up. He wasn't crying, just sort of whimpering. I didn't realise at the time as I was so out of it, but he had mucus in his throat and wasn't breathing. I'm glad I didn't know, because I would have been beside myself. I just thought they were doing the Apgar score until the room was suddenly filled with doctors and they were saying things like 'code blue'. They wouldn't tell me what was going on, and I didn't know what had happened until they got him breathing again, wrapped him in a blanket and gave him to Ben to cuddle while they stitched me up. They took him off to a paediatrician for about half an hour while I was being cleaned up, and thankfully, he was absolutely fine. All the panic subsided. Now I just got to enjoy being a mummy to this amazing little bundle of baby! <3
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