Eventually, I think Andrew got tired of trying to gently encourage me and said firmly, ‘Just get on the bed (I was on the toilet at the time) and try some gas. I’m not willing to talk to you about anything else until you’ve at least tried that’. I think I needed that. To be told what to do. So I got on the bed and they gave me the gas mouthpiece. For the first little bit, I thought I’d found the answer to all my problems. The gas made me feel floaty and far away and the first contraction was slightly more bearable. But I think lying on the bed made them more intense, and the ones that followed were more painful than any I’d had before. And using gas, I was now disconnected from myself and from any ability I had to consciously manage the pain. I felt like I lost my body. I couldn’t see and at times had a weird checkerboard pattern floating in front of my eyes. I couldn’t find Andrew and I remember flailing my arms trying to reach him, but even when I felt his hands, I couldn’t be sure that the rest of him was there. I had pain, and the pain was in space. In some kind of weird oblivion where it was just me and my pain and I couldn’t get out. It made me scream even more, now not just in pain but also in fear. I tried to use the gas for the next 10ish contractions… maybe it was more (I don’t know why I persisted for so long) but I knew it wasn’t helping.
At about 10 am, while Felicity was on the other side of the room making notes (because I was ashamed of my decision), I said to Andrew ‘if I’m not dilated any more, I’m having an epidural’. He looked so sad, but he agreed.

I asked Felicity to examine me, and when she did, she said "I’m so sorry. You’re still only 6cm. The doctors advise that at this point you have an epidural and we hook you up to a Syntocinon drip. I know this is not what you want, but things have really slowed down and I think that at this stage, they might be right". She looked so disappointed for me. Quietly though, I could not have been more relieved. My only issue was that I knew that they could not make the anaesthetist turn up immediately and that I probably had 5 – 10 more contractions to get through before they could take my pain away. I think it may have ended up being more than this.

The anaesthetist arrived at 11am and took 40 mins to insert the epidural. I didn't want to hear his explanation or the risks etc... I didn't care about his set-up or his alcohol swabs, I just wanted the bloody thing in at this point. Then all the lights in the room were turned on so he could see (it had been dim and the curtains were closed the whole time) and I remember so clearly sitting on the edge of the bed, terrified. I was so scared of having a contraction while he was putting the needle in as I knew there was no chance I could stay still. I remember thinking that this could be the moment where I became paralysed. Dramatic, I know... but that's what I thought. I remember looking into Andrew's eyes and seeing his terror too. I remember being torn so much between wanting the pain to end, and wanting to find the strength to go on without the epi. I felt weak for wanting it and yet I was so sure I couldn't take any more.

I climbed back on the bed and the contractions kept coming. Bit my bit, my legs went numb, but I could still feel most of my belly and was still writhing and yelling through each wave of pain. Felicity left - it had reached 12 hours and she had to finish her shift and she was replaced by an older midwife (who seemed quite experienced, but had an odd, slightly remote and formal air and who I didn't feel particularly safe with) and a student (who was SO sweet and attentive and lovely to have there). The student midwife kept checking the progress of the epi - touching different areas of my legs and belly with ice and checking what I could feel. They decided that the epidural was 'incomplete' ("duh... I'm still screaming") and topped it up twice until after about 2 hours, I was finally completely numb from the bottom of my ribs down. The notes say the epidural was inserted at 11:40 and that it was effective at 2:20. I was so ready for it to work. Such a strange feeling. A slight tingle and throb from my feet as if they were too cold - I kept asking them to check whether my feet were cold - and a feeling of deadness. I felt helpless being unable to move and having to ask them to roll me over or help me sit up so I could drink, but I also felt relieved. Now all I had to do was wait and my baby could make her entrance.

I went to sleep for about 20 mins I think, and Andrew crashed out on the couch and slept for about an hour. He must have fallen asleep just before Felicity left and when he woke up, the new midwife attempted to introduce herself and tell him what was happening. He barely looked at her. He just looked tired and ashen and numb. He told me later he took an instant dislike to her. Found her patronising and aloof. By that stage though, he was a bit past liking anything. He was dead on his feet. Physically and emotionally spent.