I was so so excited about writing my birth story. That was until I gave birth. If you can even call it that. But I'll start at the beginning. Be warned there's a lot I don't know, or remember. Apologies if it's a bit disjointed, I'll try to keep it as together and in sequence as possible. I will be back to edit this from time to time and add things most likely. For now, it's going to be just the birth itself. I'll add the story of the following days via link when I can.
I went in to be induced at last, after 7 days of 'early labour' and 3 days of ruptured membranes. I was ready to get this baby out!! I didn't want to be induced, but knew at 10 days overdue, and with my waters broken so long I just couldn't push it much further. That day started out well. I was excited. Nervous, but excited to meet our baby. Then it all started going wrong. I met my midwife. I didn't like her. I'd never met her before, but had met a lot of the others during my many trips backwards and forwards to the hospital over the previous weeks. She was an older lady, with a genuinely nice nature... but we just didn't 'click'. She was rather old fashioned, and well.. I'm far from it. It was all business at first. I was playing by the rules, doing as I was asked, peeing in this jar, changing into that gown, I just did it, despite wanting to be comfortable in my own clothes and NOT strapped up to monitors.
Then it was time to start the syntocin drip. My legs literally started to shake with fear. I was trying to control myself because I knew fear wasn't going to help me..... but I was just terrified. It didn't take long for the s*** to hit the fan. After 5 attempts at striking a decent vein to put in a cannula, I was crying hysterically. The drip was finally started but after that ordeal I was sooooo upset. I know my midwife meant well but we got off to such an awful start with her attempting 3 times herself, in the SAME SPOT to get a vein, pushing, pulling.... no local anaesthetic was ever offered to make it easier to get that part done. This was the beginning of it all unravelling slowly but surely.
I started to get the familiar crampy feeling I'd had over the last week or so which had kept me up all night on occasions. After a small handful of contractions, maybe 5 all up, they were suddenly coming on top of eachother. Hard and fast and with no break in between. Normally cool calm and collected, I was standing beside the bed screaming through each one uncontrollably. I kept telling myself screaming wasn't helping, to breathe, relax, work with them........ but it wasn't happening. The pain was so intense and unnatural I just tensed up completely. My midwife offered gas. I took it and felt a lot of relief. Until the synto was upped. Then I was huffing and puffing again, and finding myself clutching the mouthpiece and just screaming. It wasn't long before I remembered to use it again and found myself biting the mouthpiece for the 10 second rest I'd get between contractions. I only lasted like this for 2 hours.
What a sad attempt I'd made. After 2 hours of this, and the midwife bumbling around the room at a mile a minute, adjusting this, monitoring that, taking my bp and being clumsy in general, (she would CONSTANTLY bump my cannula, which was extremely sore from being attempted multiple times) I couldn't take it any more and begged for an epidural. There was even a few times she went to move my IV line and caught it on the bed or other various equipment and nearly ripped it right out of my hand. I would scream, and she would just say 'sorry love' and continue on rushing around like an idiot instead of helping me focus. And I thought things were bad now..... I wish I knew what the next few days would hold and maybe I would've tried harder to avoid the next choice I made.
I'm not sure at what point exactly she came in, but it was before I got my epi, and her name was Lisa. It was like she just materialised out of nowhere. She was a student midwife (which I didn't find out until later and was surprised as she was AMAZING), and she was there right when I needed her. She was just there. In my face, telling me what to do. She held onto me, she calmed me, she told me exactly what to do and for how long and how well I was doing all while the other original midwife continued to 'take care of business' which seemed mostly to be tripping over things and injuring my hand. I remember getting really worked up and asking where the doctor was. Repeatedly. "Where's the doctor? Is the doctor coming? I need the doctor. He's too slow. Tell him to hurry up. WHERE'S THE F****** DOCTOR???!!" I think it took about an hour to get to me.
After the epidural I was a new woman. I turned to Lisa and DP and announced proudly that I thought this was the most number of people I'd been naked in front of in my life. LOL we all laughed and actually had a good few hours just waiting for things to start happening. Shift changed and I met my new midwife Cassie. She was fantastic also, very calming and she, Lisa DP and I all had a good laugh at the antics of the first midwife. None of us could figure out why she was so frantic. This was the high point of the birth, I think (except for meeting our baby of course) as we were all so relaxed, enjoying ourselves and making progress! I even got some sleep during the following 10 hours or so.
Sadly, after a few more VE's every 2 or so hours, I hadn't progressed past 5cm. I really felt like I'd done more work than that, and was absolutely devastated more progress hadn't been made. We talked c-sect. I knew the decision I would make. I couldn't put myself through any more of this torture, waiting to dialate...... I was getting worn out now, despite the pain relief of the epidural. I couldn't move from the bed, we were worrying because despite having a catheter, NO urine was being passed, and I was starting to think this was all going to go wrong. So I made the decision. CS it was. DP said it was all very fast. It's like once they realised they had permission to slice and dice me they all ran for their scalpels.
DP looked very handsome in his scrubs. I remember thinking this despite being about to be cut open and have my baby removed surgically. I cried thinking about it. Then it all began. The 'pop pop pop' you hear all ladies who've had a cs talk about was what I felt. I felt panicky, but closed my eyes and breathed through it as best I could. Then the tugging, pulling, pushing...... it was intense. I could hear the panic rising in their voices and them trying to hide it as they tugged at my baby. I heard a lady ask for forceps. I clenched my eyes shut as hard as I could and just hoped everything was going to be ok. DP said I looked like I was really suffering. Suddenly I heard a squeal, and then a very loud cry. My eyes popped open and I looked straight at DP. We both burst into tears, and they held up our baby. "A little boy!" I managed to choke out. DP was so excited, and crying so hard. He rushed over to take some pictures of our little man and do his fatherly duty. (cut the cord, etc) He came back to me and we had a bit of skin to skin contact.
Sadly, Axel was way too heavy for me to support his weight on my own, so I couldn't snuggle him for long. But he was beautiful. I was then left on the table for an extra 3 hours while they waited for their boss to arrive to see if they'd nicked my urethra. I don't know why they did this now as within 12 hours I was back on the operating table having the urology dept do the same procedure (use a camera to look inside and see if there was a problem). But that's a whole other story. Which I will be linking to this one when I have time to complete this tale. It isn't pretty, but thankfully we got a happy ending.
DP was sent to wait in the nursery while all of this was going on, and eventually they wheeled me into recovery and he and little Axel came down so he could have his first feed. He was starving, crying and very distressed. DP cried and kissed me and said he thought something terrible had happened. I was upset nobody had told him what was going on, and can remember hearing everyone chatting and laughing like I was unconscious on the table.
And now the stats. Axel Timothy Faccioni was born on 25th of March 2011, at 2.39am via emergency c-section. Here's the linki to the next installment as promised.
Axel's Birth [very long]
I remember getting really worked up and asking where the doctor was. Repeatedly. "Where's the doctor? Is the doctor coming? I need the doctor. He's too slow. Tell him to hurry up. WHERE'S THE F****** DOCTOR???!!" I think it took about an hour to get to me.
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