Family Friday - My Labour Story

Well, this post is only a little bit late. Trying to find time to write it has certainly been difficult. This may be a rather long post, so if you don't want to read the whole thing, I totally understand.
Scout is a month old tomorrow and I cannot believe it's been that long since I gave birth to him already, but anywho, here's how it all went down.

Thursday 29th May, I woke up with some strange pains. I'd describe them as period pains, nothing more than that. What I didn't realise, was that they were coming in waves. They were enough to wake me up so I rolled over in bed, but I could easily get back to sleep. It was only when I woke up, that I realised they were quite regular. At this point I woke Liam up. I poked him on the back and he mumbled the words, 'Don't poke me, I'll fight you.' In which I replied, 'you can't fight me, I think I'm having contractions.' I have never seen him wake up and move so quick.
The day went on and my contractions were coming 6 minutes apart and lasting 45 seconds. Unfortunately later in the afternoon they started to get further apart and less frequent, so we went for a walk that shot them into action. We tootled off to the hospital, I was checked over, but was only 1cm dilated and got sent home.
The night was really difficult. Trying to sleep was a nightmare, and the pains were 10 times worse when I was lying down.
Friday morning came and they were back to being pretty frequent. At this point they still weren't at the 5 minutes apart stage, but they were insanely painful. In these two days we called the delivery suite several times asking if there was anything I could do/take because I was struggling to get through them. They just kept on saying to wait it out and take paracetamol.
Again, Friday night was horrible.
Very early hours of Saturday morning, my contractions were finally five minutes apart, but still not at a minute long. All I remember of that point was just the fact that I couldn't even talk through them. I hadn't slept for two nights and I felt exhausted.
At this point we could finally head back to the delivery suite. After being monitored for half an hour, my contractions were again not so frequent, and I was still only 2cm. I was given a shot of pethidine so I could finally get a little bit of rest; but after having this I wasn't aloud to leave the hospital, so we went up to the ward. I can't remember how long we were there, but I do know that we spent a good while walking around the hospital trying to bring the contractions together. The pethidine didn't really help though and they went off completely. Either that or it was just so good at killing my pain, that I just didn't feel them anymore.
After the pethidine had worn off and the contractions didn't return, we decided to head home. This is when it all kicked off.
Liam's parents (who were visiting at the time) decided to take us out for lunch. I felt totally fine, so agreed. The minute we had sat down and ordered our food, my contractions came back. Hard. We started timing them and they very quickly became closer together. I managed to sit through them as everyone ate their food, but I certainly couldn't eat mine. As soon as everyone was done I asked if they could take me straight back to the hospital. I just knew that things were going to happen soon. I didn't even have my hospital bag and they had to go back to our house to pick it up for us.

When we got to the hospital I was 6cm. I was given some gas and air, but I hated it. That stuff is nasty and I don't think I'd ever want to use it again. It made me feel incredibly sick.
This is when things start getting blurry. Things moved really fast.
In an hour or so, I had progressed to 8cm, Scout was back to back and a doctor came in to examine me. He was going to try and turn him, but in the next contraction, he turned himself. In one quick move.
The next discovery was that Scout had pooped inside me. Also, that at some point in the past couple of days, my waters had gone and I had absolutely no clue. I still can't figure out when they had gone.
I started to feel like I needed to push but the midwife was adamant I wasn't ready. It took me screaming at her to examine me before she did and said, well ok then, push. I had gone from 8cm to 10cm in 2 contractions.

Less than half an hour of pushing, Scout was born. Saturday 31st May at 7:05pm, weighing 7lbs 13oz. I had given up on the gas and air by this point so theoretically I did it with no pain relief. He shot out really quickly, was placed on my chest then whisked away to be check over. Liam didn't get to cut his cord, and I didn't get the skin to skin I wanted. At this point I knew something wasn't right.
I don't remember much from this point. My placenta had come apart in bits and my uterus wasn't contracting back down. I had one person scooping bits out (sorry, really gross I know), one woman rubbing my belly in circles for how long, I don't know; and more and more people keep appearing.
At some point Scout was popped back on my chest for a cuddle. There are photos, but I don't remember it at all. I was losing A LOT of blood. At one point someone was asked how much and another person said 2 litres.
Then I had to go to theatre. I signed the consent form through my dizziness and I kept being told to keep my eyes open. One thing that sticks in my head was being told that if things were really bad, I'd have to have a hysterectomy. It was a very, very small chance that would need to happen, but it terrified me. All I remember was telling Liam I loved him as I was wheeled out of the delivery room.
I woke up from surgery 3 hours later. I had lost a total of 3 and a half litres of blood. Which is crazy to think about considering an average adult has 5 litres in their body. Apparently my liver and kidneys had started to shut down and I had to have 4 transfusions of blood.
I remember hearing the nurse before I could open my eyes, and the first thing I did was reach down to my belly to feel if I had had to be cut open. I hadn't.

After I woke up, I was wheeled back to a little ward on the delivery suite to recover. I finally got to meet my little boy properly and Liam could finally sigh a huge sigh of relief. I can't imagine how he must have felt, waiting in the room I gave birth, for 3 hours. He did admit that he cried when they told him I was fine. I honestly don't know how he stayed so strong through it all.

So that's pretty much it. I spent the next 4 days in hospital recovering. I had drips galore and many tablets to take. I had to drink tons of water and blood tests every morning. My heart rate and blood pressure were awful, and even though my haemoglobin levels were initially pretty good after my transfusions, my levels plummeted the day before we came home. I felt completely fine in myself. In fact, I felt amazing considering what I had gone through. On the fourth day, we were fed up of the hospital and we made it very clear that we wanted to go home, so when the midwife in charge was happy that I wasn't going to pass out anytime soon, they sent us on our way; armed with a massive supply of antibiotics and iron tablets.

Nothing went how I planned it, my birth plan wasn't followed in the slightest; heck I don't even think it got read, but I'm still here and I have my little boy. My labour hasn't put me off having more children, but my next one will now be classed as high risk. I've already decided that if I can have an elective C-section, I will.
We'll wait a few years first though.

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1 comment

  1. wow, thanks for sharing, this was such a brave thing to share - I think it such an honest thing to share - and gives others an idea of how it could be.
    Congratulations on your little boy x


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