The Birth of Isabella - 02/10/2011
It's another long one from me... 1000 words shorter than the last though ;)
DH and I started on the ‘not [actively] trying & not preventing’ merry-go-round in Feb 2010. My first month of hoping happened to fall on my wedding day, but alas AF showed herself a day later. I didn’t expect it to happen first time, but we had thought that having conceived a ‘contraception baby’ that fertility would be on our side and things would be fairly quick… not quite!
By December not being pregnant was breaking my heart. I remember thinking that I just don’t know how the LTTTC’ers do it… so much strength to carry on each month, some for many years – and here I was after only 8-9 cycles and totally had it with my body. I guess it didn’t help that I had already waited 17 months to TTC #2 in the first place (thanks PND).
I decided to test, for what I had pretty much decided would be the last time, on Christmas Eve. Crazy female logic told me if it was a BFN I could process it all before having to hold it together on Christmas Day. It worked to some extent, and AF arrived in the wee hours of Boxing Day 2010. DH and I discussed and decided that it was time we started thinking about our contraceptive options as I was too fragile to keep ‘trying’ and the older DS was getting, the less I wanted another newborn until we were better ‘set-up’.
I set my focus and my hope on getting an offer for university study for 2011. In mid-January we visited some friends as a farewell to my buddy moving overseas, and with TTC off my mind, I had a very boozy night for the first time in a long time. I was so relaxed, it felt fantastic! I knew I was roughly mid-cycle, but thought ‘to hell with it’. Been wanting to fall pregnant for months and months, surely this once wouldn’t do it?
Two days later, I got accepted to ACU to begin study in a Bachelor of Midwifery for 2011. I was completely thrilled!! I started very much looking forward to returning to study and our upcoming family holiday to Queensland.
Friday January 28th, DH’s birthday and an ordinary day at work, and on a hunch I buy a test. I generally don’t bother wasting money on them, but the idea just wouldn’t rest. Long story short it was a BIG FAT POSITIVE - and lucky hunch as that meant no ****tails or thrill rides on our holiday! Thanks universe, months of torture later, I'm off to uni in 3 weeks! I'm not ungrateful but you're not so kind with your timing!!!
Everything about the pregnancy was so different to my pregnancy with DS. It was so… easy! And because it was such an easy, and very much planned pregnancy it was a very healing experience for both myself and my husband. It felt so natural to be pregnant this time and we had so little worries about our relationship, finances, living arrangements… all three of which were big disasters with our first.
I was lucky enough to suffer very minimal morning sickness, not experience many food aversions and not have cravings for junk! I was however, extremely fatigued and it was a major factor in my decision to defer from university. I did however continue to work long hours, weeks, and do more work from home right up until I was 38 weeks pregnant. Families kept asking me when I would be taking leave and my answer was always that I would be there until my waters broke! Towards the end I had horrible heartburn and weeks and weeks of insomnia really took its toll!
From 36 weeks onwards the Braxton Hicks became more noticeable and regular. I had several rounds of pre-labour a week, with stronger-than-braxton hicks-but-not-‘go time’-contractions and was getting particularly frustrated by it all. All along I had been so calm about going to 40 weeks with no expectations to go early and I was feeling mostly comfortable, but with all the pre-labour feeling like false starts I was well and truly over it.
Friday 30th September I begged DH to stay home from work so we could spend the day together. I thought it was a good call, seeing as at 8.30am another round of pre-labour, and the strongest yet made a start. By 3pm it had again all fizzled out but I kept trying to stay positive, telling myself it wasn’t for nothing hopefully it would make things shorter / easier when it was the real deal!
That night, I had a bit of a pity party; finishing half a tub of expensive rich chocolate ice cream! I found myself go to the toilet at least five times in the space of a few hours and hoped like no other that it was an actual sign. Lucky me - I then felt like I was going to vomit and had awful heartburn all night, to the point I was unable to sleep… finally a glass of milk worked for more than 10 minutes and I was able to get off to sleep for three hours.
I woke up the next morning and I was exhausted but completely unable to sleep. I spent the entire day doing not much of anything, hoping that resting would do my body some good seeing as I could not sleep. I finished off a few loads of washing and that was about it. By 8.30 that evening I was exhausted. Normally I push myself to stay up until 10pm so that when I wake it’s not ridiculously early but I decided that bed was a great idea!
Due to the pre-labour of the past few weeks I had been taking a towel to bed with me – we still hadn’t invested in a water proof mattress protector , so it was a safe bet I would ruin our brand new mattress. I was resting on a pillow on all fours, bum high in the air as it helped lessen the back pain I had from being so pregnant. I felt a massive thud against my cervix and let out a squeal. I was thinking it was one hell of a kick! DH was playing Halo in bed next to me and asked me if I was okay. I said “Yeah” – but then I sat up; thank goodness for the towel!
“Ummm, no, my waters just broke” – “Really” – “I think so” – “Get off the bed!”
I grabbed my phone to text my mum and let her know, it was 8.50pm. She was actually in the area at the time and offered to pick up DS now rather than later and it meant that he was already organised. It also worked out well as circumstances meant she could come to the hospital if we wanted her too.
I waddled off to the toilet with a towel between my legs. When I stood up, I flooded the toilet floor! I couldn’t stop laughing about it. I made DH grab more towels and sprayed disinfectant on the floor for a quick clean up. Mum arrived around 9.20pm and contractions hadn’t started. We told her we would let her know when we headed to the hospital and let her know if we wanted her to come up. DH headed out to get petrol soon after, worried we wouldn’t make it to the hospital on our tank. I tried to call the hospital to let them know my waters had broke but after it rang for ages I gave up! Contractions started around 9.40pm – they came on at only 2-3 minutes apart. I thought my body was tricking me, it couldn’t be that they were that quick already. I thought maybe it was just starting up as they were at that point fairly painless. But then, as I was kneeling on the floor typing on my laptop on the bed, I lost another gush of waters. Contractions intensified after this – I started swearing and DH demanded that I call the hospital again. We left home at around 10.10pm. So much for pottering around in early labour getting things all sorted out before leaving home!
I didn’t have a contraction for a bit over 10 minutes when we first got in the car… I couldn’t believe it but knew it was possible from the rush to get in the car. When they came back they hit with a vengeance. They had fallen further apart and the contractions themselves weren’t yet ‘that bad’ but I was in agony in the car, and could barely move to a comfortable position. I was focussed on breathing through them and DH was very encouraging from the front seat. I was thinking about how good it would to be moving again once we got to the hospital.
Got to the hospital 10.50pm and had to sign the admissions paperwork, then go to an exam room, have my belly palpated, my blood pressure and heart rate checked, and fetal heart rate checked. Then we got to wait around for 15 minutes while they finished the admission, and got taken to the assessment area…
The midwife in charge of assessment was busy with two other women so she said she would be about 10-15minutes. Was around this point I started to feel out of control. I was pacing around this tiny cubicle room and there was no room to move. I tried to lean over the bed and rock through the contractions but leaning forward sent a searing pain across my belly. I ended up finding a spot on the wall to lean against and rocked gently from side to side while trying to remember to breathe. Mentally I was starting to break already. I was feeling miserable where 20minutes beforehand I had been absolutely on top of the world with excitement. I started having really hot flushes and I was so tired. DH tried to soothe me and tell me he was so proud of me and that I would do a great job, but I was already adamant that I wasn’t going to get through this. I felt like I was hitting the mental state of transition as I had with my first labour. I started saying I was too tired and I wanted to go home, that I couldn’t do it, that I couldn’t deal with the pain this time and that I was going to need an epidural because the contractions didn’t give me enough time to breathe. Then he would try to help me or be near me during a contraction, or tell me to breathe and I would tell him to **** off!
At about 11.35 the assessment midwife told me to get on the bed, I cried thinking about it. Again I had blood pressure, heart rate and fetal heart rate checked, abdomen palpated to ensure baby was head down. Then a vaginal exam. Knowing how much pain I was already feeling, and how much pre-labour I had, I was hoping for at least 5, half way there, something positive to hold onto. Well, first, she couldn’t reach my cervix, then I had a contraction so she stopped, then I felt like I was doing gymnastics on the bed with my pelvis tilted in such a way and my back arched so that she was able to actually reach my cervix. It was particularly uncomfortable on the rest of my body, but this exam wasn’t so bad.
I was devastated to hear that my cervix was thick, high and I was only 3cm. Seriously? I mean, I know I had only been contracting for little over an hour so I guess it’s not a totally unbelievable figure. But at only 3cm – with a high cervix – but that’s not technically even considered active/established labour! And here I am feeling like I am mentally already in transition. I was now convinced I would end up with an epidural but knew I had to make it to the birth suite and try the shower first. We texted mum to let her know and she joked that she would see us in the morning. DH told her he thinks I need her now so she makes a move.
So off we go, wheeled on up to the birth suite. Room one, I had been in this room before when I had my tour of the hospital, I liked that. Even though all of them probably looked relatively the same, this one felt familiar. Again a vitals check – how many does one need in the space of an hour? Getting a bit frustrated with it now! It was 11.55pm. DH joked that baby had five minutes to make an arrival to still be a binary baby.
I made it up and walked around the room a little. All my natural urges when I had a contraction were to be on all fours or leaning against a bed but the pain that rippled across my lower abdomen just didn’t allow it. So I paced and then stopped in my tracks to try and breathe through a contraction. I felt so out of control, this was so quick, I had learnt so much and had so many positive, calm plans to get through this labour but this was too quick. Annalisa (midwife) had asked if I had pain relief with my first labour and what my plans were for this time. I said I was hoping to do it without the use of artificial pain relief as I had with DS but I didn’t think I was going to last. I was feeling better having my own space so hopefully that would get me through. I wandered on into the shower with DH not too far away, hoping it would give some relief.
Nope, zilch, nada. Absolutely no relief, in fact I think when the water was on my tummy or my back, it made them worse. I was in a real dopey headspace at this point in time. I don’t remember talking much. I just remember pacing back and forth. Annalisa came to check on me and asked if the water was helping. I mumbled that it wasn’t really but that the sound was really soothing, so we left the shower on. The contractions were pretty much on top of each other and I was getting really stroppy each time they came on. I’m certain I was sleeping on my feet between contractions.
I finally found a way to use the shower to my advantage – The bars on the wall in the corner helped support my weight at such an incline that it wasn’t painful across my front and the bars were a real help as a grip when the contractions peaked. The water also took some of the edge off in this position. DH basically couldn’t come near me despite how much I wanted him too.
I know Annalisa was around, I remember her coming in and out a few times. She basically left me to my own devices – which was fine by me. She said if I started feeling particularly pushy to let her know. Not long after my left leg had started to twitch and I felt like I was starting to ‘bear down’. I didn’t feel particularly pushy but I knew it meant bubba wasn’t far away. DH almost went to move the car but thank goodness, decided against it and that he would wait for mum to get there.
(this next all happened in less than 15 minutes)
Around 12.15pm Annalisa came to check fetal heart rate. I remember feeling really angry with her because I had just gotten into a comfortable flow with the contractions. I kept trying to move away from her but only to get more comfortable. Next thing she was saying that I needed to come out of the bathroom. I told her no, I didn’t want to, the bed was too uncomfortable and she said that she needed to check my baby’s heartrate on the monitor and she would like to do an exam. I stripped out of my undies on the way out and Annalisa said I had a bit of a show. DH tells me I lost a bit more on the way to the bed, ever so observant my darling husband!
A contraction hit the second I lay down and I turned to the side to hold DH’s hands but ended up making the pain worse. This is about when I started to feel extremely spaced out and I have my own very vague memories of onwards progression, with DH filling in the blanks. Annalisa placed a fetal scalp electrode, which first time around was only mildly uncomfortable, and tried to hook me up to a CTG. Something about it was no good, it was a new machine and the old paper didn’t fit it. So they got another machine. In the meantime I have another contraction and am absolutely writhing and desperate to get off the bed. The second midwife/person asked what was happening, Annalisa said ‘her baby is having late decels’. I vaguely recalled decels being bad but didn’t think much of it. The second CTG was no good – they arranged for a third and Annalisa said they needed to get the obstetrician in here as soon as possible just in case.
The obstetrician arrived. I don’t remember them placing the third lots of monitor bits… I don’t know that they did. Obstetrician said the electrode was misplaced which is why they couldn’t get a reading. She places it again. Next thing I hear “we need to get this baby out, now”. Annalisa needs to do an exam, ok, can’t be too bad – wrong; obviously things needed to get moving fast as it was awful. She says I am about 9cm, maybe fully, but my cervix (baby's head?) is still quite high.
The birth suite becomes a mad rush of people. There must have been six or eight medical staff in the room. I felt completely out of control and disassociated from my body, I think I was probably in shock already at this point. I am protesting about my legs getting put up in stirrups, I hear the obstetrician ask for the instrument tray and say it will need to be forceps delivery. I remember crying out “I don’t want an instrumental delivery” and she or Annalisa say “we need to get your baby here safe”. I am terrified and have no idea what is going on all at once. A part of me is definitely not ‘there’. At some point I tell DH that he better remember all this because I have no idea.
I hear them page the paediatrician. DH is on my left, holding my hand and trying to calm me down. I have a lady on my right grabbing my arm as she will be needing to place an IV. The obstetrician tells me she is going to place a catheter. That was agonising, I know I screamed when that happened. She decides to do another vaginal exam (no warning!). She wasn’t gentle about it. Then I scream out in pain, she tells me that it’s not a contraction and I yell back “It still frikken hurts”. She is trying to feel the baby’s head. Annalisa is standing near DH with her hand on my chest telling me to push. Push and get baby to touch Ob’s hand. I try but I feel like I can’t. I tell her I’m not ready, there isn’t enough of an urge and she says ‘you can – just push’.
On the next contraction I pushed with everything I had, while the two of them are telling me to push harder. I yell back ‘I AM PUSHING HARDER!’, when I stop to take a breath they tell me to keep going. I’m sure I am sobbing by this point. DH tells me it’s ok, and he can see lots of pressure, I can do it myself, keep going. Inside my head I am screaming “where the **** is my mum”, I don’t know what my right hand was doing, I think the staff who was going to place the IV might have been there, but I knew my mum wasn’t there and it was killing me.
Pushing was agony, I still didn’t feel like I had a real urge. I know I was screaming and very feisty back to the staff. No guttural moan like with DS, I was just screaming. Little Miss started crowning and DH tells me she has lots of hair. They all just keep telling me to push, even when there is no contraction. Push… push harder… little push. Huh? Little push? What the hell do you mean little push? DH said that was her shoulders. Her shoulders were stubborn and a bit stuck (probably around the time I felt like I was going to tear in half). One more push and they helped yank her out. Poor baby. It was 12.30am. They said she was stunned at birth so cord was cut and she was transferred to resuscitation table. She ended up being fine and breathing on her own in less than 10 seconds anyway. They brought her to me and put her on my chest with a blanket and told me it was all okay, that she was here, that I got her here. I just remember saying “it’s NOT ok”.
I was still disassociated at that point and although I remember her being on my chest, it took me some time to actually be ‘with’ her. I was shaking and sobbing and next thing my mum was by my side and DH was telling her she was a minute too late – she wasn’t really, she was outside the delivery suite and could hear me screaming for her (I don’t remember that part but I certainly felt it emotionally so it makes sense), but they wouldn’t let her in because there were so many medical staff etc. In those first minutes all I could think was that I wanted my damn legs down out of the stirrups, but they wanted me to wait for the placenta first. They removed the catheter and I had the injection for placenta delivery. Having my legs out of the stirrups afterwards was sweet relief. Then I shook myself silly and that didn’t stop until around 7am.
‘Squish’ was indeed a Little Miss and when I finally ‘came to’ enough to process her, the first thing I said was that she is exactly like her brother. She had her first breastfeed within half an hour of the birth and was a boobie monster from the get go. We are totally in love and she is beautiful.
Isabella Charlotte Rose was born at 12.30am on Sunday October 2nd 2011.
A very quick and unsettling labour, 3 hours 45 minutes from spontaneous ‘pre-labour’ rupture of membranes.
Went from 3cm to born in approximately 45 mins, pushed for five minutes.
3638gms (8lb) – 51cm in Length – 35cm HC – Apgars 9 and 9.
[ETA: De-Brief Thread]
