I was so thirsty from being sick so I had lots of cups of water next to my bed but I just ended up throwing them back up. I couldn’t keep anything down. Finally 9 AM came. The minutes went by and no sign of Paul although I think he did turn up at either 9.30 or just after. As usual, there were people in and out as I was expecting to be examined at about 9 or there abouts and told I would need at least one or two (or maybe more) tablets. When I had my first tablet inserted the midwife who did it said that my cervix was closed and very high and hard to reach and said she thought I would need at least 2 more tablets as she thought it was more than likely that the first one wouldn’t work.
Paul was a great help, talking to me and trying to make me laugh and also giving me massages (which didn’t help in all honesty but felt nice) and I carried on reading and listening to music and got more and more annoyed with the strap belt things that were on my belly and digging into me. I found that sitting upright but leaning forward helped a little but then the midwives saw me do this, they told me to try leaning backwards because with me leaning forwards, it wasn’t picking up the baby’s heartbeat (something to do with where the straps were).
At 11, this group of merry men (sorry, women) came round and the midwife told me who they were. There was a woman doctor who looked just like Fern Britton, there was this Irish nun looking woman who looked like she had just stepped off the set of Sister Act II, this Indian student midwife and this other oldish midwife and the doctor asked me how I was and asked me some other things which I can’t for the life of me remember what they were lmao. Anyway, a little while after, the nun looking lady gave me an internal examination which again was uncomfortable and not that pleasant so I held Paul’s hand and looked away and after what seemed like a lifetime she said to my surprise that I was 5-6 cm dilated and that if I wanted her to that she could break my waters, was she kidding? Did I want her to? What a silly question, I wanted ANYTHING to happen that would make him come out as soon as possible.
I was so surprised as the midwife the night before said that I’d more than likely need a second or possibly third tablet. I agreed to her breaking my waters but I didn’t like the look of the plastic hook going inside me though. I’m not sure what happened after that but I think I imagined that my waters would trickle out and I can’t remember that happening. I can’t actually remember what happened between 11 AM – 2 PM but I can remember repeating “oo my back” about 10000000 times and I can remember having some more paracetamol, codeine and diclofenac which was stupid for pain relief. The midwife asked me if I’d like pethadine and as the pain was so bad, I agreed and had that. To be honest, the pethadine didn’t have any effect on me whatsoever and didn’t dull the pain at all in the slightest. I was still constantly feeling sick and couldn’t bear the thought of eating anything so I didn’t have anything so she gave me an anti-sickness jab too which made my sickness worse.
The midwife asked me to change into one of those foul, unflattering hospital gowns (which strangled me – I hate things around my neck). At 2 PM the midwife led me and Paul to the delivery room. The midwife was on my left and Paul on my right and they had their arms under my arms and had to in a way carry me in there because I was in too much pain to walk on my own. I got on the bed and remember being hooked up to some sort of monitor as I remember there were wired everywhere and I caught one with my foot – I remember that as it was the midwife who told me.
I was asked by the midwife if I’d like to try gas and air so I thought I’d give it a go as I had nothing to lose. As soon as the midwife told me how to use it, I wasn’t ever off it. It was weird getting the hang of using it but it soon became second nature. The mouth piece kept somehow coming away from the pipe. After about the first 3 inhalations, I felt out of it, as high as a kite and as if I’d been up Ashbourne on an all night bender. It reminded me of the feelings I used to get when I was drunk (which I don’t really remember much as I haven’t drank for 15 months) and I loved it
That gas and air made me come out with some totally random stuff, such as putting the kettle on and the rabbit’s litter tray. It is really good stuff and I’m highly recommend it. Sometimes though I’d find that it totally slowed me down. For example when I felt the first bit of a contraction, it took me about a good second to realise and put the mask to my face so in a way it was a delayed reaction – like when you are drunk I suppose. My reactions weren’t as fast. The gas and air really did help because I was in absolute agony before. I felt that I could cope with my contractions better and with the mask I felt in control (for once, the only ever time in my labour I would feel in control).
I’m not sure how long I was on the gas and air for but I’d say it was maybe about 45 minutes. Paul was sitting by me throughout and being a really supportive birth partner and he kept bringing me in cups of this lovely heaven sent ice cold water which tasted great. I really needed it as I was so hot and the gas and air made my mouth very dry. I was sweating. The midwife was writing something down the whole time and monitoring the machine, come to think of it, I think it was a CTG. She asked me after a while if I felt ready to push and I did. By this point I was getting excited but also nervous. Everything happened so quickly though. It was all a blur. The midwife told me that when I felt the first contraction to put my chin in my chest and push as hard as I could so I did this and worked up a real sweat and Paul was in and out every few minutes getting me cup after cup of the lovely ice cold water.
I tried pushing for a good hour. We got into the delivery room at 2.10 PM and the midwife basically said that I had until about 3.10 PM. The midwife was very encouraging and when she was telling me how well I was doing, it really gave me an incentive to try and keep up the good work and push that bit harder. She did tell me on various occasions that she could feel the baby’s head. It felt weird hearing that (and having her hand up my you know what) but I did then get excited because I thought to myself that it “won’t be long now”. Paul was telling me the whole time how proud he was of me and how much he loved me. After an hour of pushing, the midwife wasn’t happy with the progress so she said I would have to go into theatre to try with forceps. Well, my head was all over the place, Paul was sick with worry and I was sick with worry. She was in and out for a while and after she said this, a man came in. I think he was a doctor and I later found out that he would be the one carrying out the section. He explained to me what would happen in theatre (I didn’t remember any of it as I was high on gas and air) and after that he drained my bladder and inserted a catheter (which felt really uncomfortable).
After that, this other man came in (who later would be operating on me in theatre) and I think he was an anaesthetist and again, he had a chat with me about what would happen in theatre and he asked me all of these questions (must have been there about 20 minutes answering questions). After he went this youngish looking woman doctor came in and she went through this piece of paper with me and she gave me about 4 pieces of paper to sign (I was very woozy and still out of it from the gas and air) so I made sure I spent a while reading through everything it said before I signed it (it felt like I was signing my life away) and what a stupid time to get me to sign a form, I could have been signing anything! This oldish woman came in and she said “are you wearing nail varnish?” and I said yes to which she replied “it’ll have to come off” so there went my manicure I had done the day before grrrrrrrr not happy, then after that Paul went to get ready for theatre. Everyone else left the room too except for me and the woman who took my varnish off. I told her I felt like I needed the toilet (I didn’t know at this point which I needed) so in she wheeled this wheelchair with a hole in the middle and I sat on that and surprise surprise nothing came out. Think I was nervous. She kept saying “I’ll have to hurry you” and I was thinking “thanks Mrs, I need the loo and you’re rushing me”. So after nothing would come out, she quickly got me in this other wheelchair and wheeled me into theatre (felt like Kurt Cobain at the Reading festival, 1992 lmao). Just outside the theatre doors, I met 2 of the men who would be in theatre operating and I could just tell from the things they were saying that I was in for a laugh, that wasn’t any conselation though.
So in I went and there was no sign of Paul for about 40 minutes. I later found out from him that he had to go and put his gown and hat on and wait until I was all ready, he was very worried as he couldn’t understand why it took so long and he thought something had happened to me. I was wheeled up to the bed and about 2 or 3 people were all there ready to help me up onto the bed but I managed on my own. Everyone was asking if I was ok, which I was. I then had to lift my hair up while they put it in what looked like a shower cap then I was asked to sit up and lean forward then I was given the spinal anaesthetic, as you know you have to stay VERY still for that as one slight movement and you can be paralysed for life!!! I’m sure I had more than one injection because I’m pretty sure I felt 2 maybe 3 needles going inside and stay in me for what seemed like forever. I also had some wires attached to my neck. They took the hair net thingy off my head and then I had to lie down. I remember looking around at all the equipment and thinking how much it was like ER. I was very very scared, I had never been to hospital before never mind been in an operating theatre
Paul came in looking like a doctor with them clothes things that they make the men wear (like a green sort of gown thing and a hat) – very fetching!! (I wished we’d got a picture of that!!!!) and I was hooked up to a drip of oxytocin which was to speed up my contractions, as if they needed speeding up!!! and also a saline drip which was to keep my hydrated. The curtain was put up before Paul came in and we were ready for action. Everyone was asking me all the time if I was ok and I said “yes thanks”. One of the men said “are you sure you’re ok?” and I said “yes why?” and he said “you just seem too calm and relaxed and you are very quiet”. I was very scared, that’s why I went very quiet, well i’m quiet anyway but I was frozen with fear. I didn’t say much either. I think the only things I did say was “yes thanks” when everyone kept asking me how I was.
One of the men said “I’ve seen some women in here in such a state, screaming, shouting and crying but you are the quietest person we’ve ever had in here isn’t she guys?” and they all said yes.
The doctor went through with me again what was going to happen. He said they were going to try twice with forceps so that’s what happened. After what seemed like forever where they got everything ready, they are stood round the bed and things were about to happen. My legs were put in the stirrups and it was really weird seeing them in them because I looked at them and thought “Are they mine? I can’t feel them. They can’t be” the spinal anaesthetic was brilliant as I couldn’t feel anything from the waist down, part of me worried that they would stay like that forever. I was holding Paul’s hand the whole time and I was very scared but a tiny bit excited. One of the women doctors was on my right hand side and she put her hands on my tummy and told me when to push. She said “now I want you to give me a big push” so that is exactly what I did. I pushed as hard as I could and for as long as I could. While I was pushing, all I could hear was “good girl, that’s it, as hard as you can, good girl, you’re doing really well”. The first time failed so we tried again, exactly the same as the first attempt. Paul was telling me all the time how much he loved me, how well I was doing and how proud he was of me. After the second failed forceps attempt, the doctor said to me “it’ll have to be a section” because Lennon wasn’t coming out and his heart rate dropped to a very alarming rate so he was in distress. He nearly died and so did I. I can remember seeing a very very vivid bright white light but something pulled me back. At that point I felt a whole load of emotions – scared, worried, helpless, nervous and absolutely terrified.
When they did the emergency Caesarean Section on me I didn’t feel a thing. It all happened so quick. It was only when they opened me up that they found that he had poo pooed inside me (meconium - a sign of the baby being distressed). They attached a blood drainage bag to my wound. Paul remained as calm and relaxed throughout although he was very worried and the doctors were still asking me if I was ok and I was saying yes. They kept telling me how brave I was and how well I was doing. The next thing I heard was one of the men doctors saying “in one minute your baby will be here” and I remember thinking “is this real?” I couldn’t believe my baby was on the way after all i’ve been through the previous night - I thought it’s about bloody time!! Then I think I may have heard a cry. The next thing I saw was one of the women doctors with the baby and she put him on the scales, I never saw him come out, wasn’t the first person to see him, wasn’t the first person to hold him and I never got skin to skin either, no wonder I haven’t bonded with him. Some other women even those who have emergency Caesarean Sections get to see their babies come out, they get to be the first person to see the baby, the first person to hold the baby which is how it should be and they get skin to skin too. I wanted skin to skin as it’s good for bonding but I never got it. They never even asked me if I wanted to hold him before they cleaned him up. All I saw was a big white bundle. Then when she put him on the scales I tried to catch a glimpse as he was MY baby, I shouldn’t have been the LAST person in the room to see him!! But couldn’t really get much of a look as she was standing in the way.
One of the male members of staff said to Paul “do you want to go over” so he did and he stood by the scales. The doctor weighed him (he was 8 lbs 1 oz) and gave him the vitamin K injection which is given straight after birth in order to prevent (or slow) a rare problem of bleeding into the brain weeks after birth. Vitamin K promotes blood clotting. I was asked earlier in the day if I wanted Lennon to have the Vitamin K injection and said yes as I thought it was very important. One of the doctors in the theatre said “what is it?” and Paul said “a boy”. It was an amazing feeling being told what the baby was and especially by Paul as I wanted him to find out the sex and tell me. Then, she brought Lennon over to me and Paul. I can just about remember seeing him for the first time. I wasn’t able to hold him or have the skin to skin that I wanted so was gutted. He didn’t feel like my child and still doesn’t because of what happened. The doctor laid him next to me and I had to turn my head to the right to see him. I couldn’t get to kiss him or cuddle him or anything. Having 2 drips in and lots of wires everywhere and on my neck didn’t help. The first thing he did was blink. Paul was asked what the baby was called and I think we both replied “Lennon”.
While I was put back together again and having the blood draining bag attached to me, Lennon was being held by Paul and all of the staff in the theatre were congratulating us, kissing us, shaking our hands and saying “well done”, “congratulations” and “aww he’s beautiful” to me. I was shaking really bad and being sick for about half an hour and Paul was really worried until one of them said that this was perfectly normal. It really was like a whirlwind from when I got in the car on the way to the hospital up until I had him.
As I was wheeled out of theatre, I was lying flat on the bed with Lennon next to me with Paul walking behind and I heard a woman (who we walked past) say quite loudly “aww isn’t he a beautiful baby?” and I thought “yes he is”. I was wheeled into the recovery room for a good hour maybe a little longer and we were talking to a woman in there (who took the photo of me lying on the bed with Lennon lying next to me and Paul sitting next to me) and a woman came to the door and said “i’ve got your mum here shall I let her in” and we didn’t know whether she meant my mum or Paul’s mum so in walks my mum and Paul says to her “here’s your grandson” and she cried. She was in Derby shopping and thought she would come and see how I was doing but obviously no-one could tell her anything without my permission but I wasn’t asked or anything. I should have really told them that if my mum or dad called or came to the hospital, that it was fine by me for them to see me and know how i’m doing etc. Only one person was allowed in the recovery room and mum said that my little sister Ruby who is 14 was downstairs waiting for mum as she wasn’t allowed in but they both hung around the cafe I think for a bit and came to see me when I was on the post-natal ward. My sister and mum were both proud as punch
Well there it is. That’s the end of my birth story. My terrible and traumatic birth experience has left me both physically and emotionally scarred for life as well as given me very severe Post Natal Depression and a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder almost 2 years on! I have tried many times to try and get my head round what happened and tried to move on but it’s not happened. I don’t think i’ll ever get over it, unless I could go back to the day when it happened and make sure things were done different like having him normally. I can't even go anywhere near the hospital, like if I know we are going somewhere and we would have to go past it we have to take another route
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