The Birth of Alexander - 23/02/2008.
"The emotionally explosive experience that was the birth of Alexander"
Warning: This is in excess of 5000 words. If you do read i really appreciate the time you have taken.
This is the physical and emotional account of my labour and the birth of Alexander. As such it is very long, with a lot of unnecessary detail to anybody else's eyes, but this is as I wished to always have as much of the experience as possible with me to serve as clarity and a complete recollection. I did try to cut it down, but it didn't seem complete to share so i gave up!
Saturday 23rd February, 2008.
I climbed in to bed just after 1am, very excited about having finally put the finishing touches on our little Jellybean's bedroom. I'd just taken some Panadol to help me get to sleep and was looking forward to a romantic and relaxed weekend with Anthony, or of course, the impatience that was waiting for our little boy to make his arrival. I was frustrated to find myself still staring at the clock as it neared close to 2am and tried desperately to stop thinking so I could nod off... I awoke just after 4:30am for a toilet trip, and after finally settling comfortably back into bed and feeling myself just beginning to doze, I felt a unique niggle in my lower abdominal region. It was 05:00am.
Each time I almost got back to sleep, I was sharply awoken by the same strange niggling sensation. When I was still lying restlessly awake at 6am, I decided to start paying attention to what my body was doing. I felt the next one come on, like a period cramp at first, then feeling it tighten and intensify, before it would slowly die off. I couldn't wipe the ecstatic grin off my face when I finally realised these were real contractions, and that I was in the early stages of labour. I lay there amazed, telling myself that I could be having my baby that day, trying to relax and enjoy the last hours of my pregnancy. I finally dozed into a relatively solid sleep, waking only at the peak of some contractions, and snoozing immediately after. At 8am I was awoken again by a sharp, searing pain, and I decided maybe it was time to let Anthony in on my big secret.
Between 8am and 10am, I found that my contractions were coming in a strange and irregular pattern. I would have one seven minutes that would last for fifty seconds, and the next three minutes that would last for no more than twenty seconds. They were still regular and the intensity was not lessening.
At about 10am, contractions were coming consistently at four minutes apart for about forty-five seconds. I decided to give my Mum a call, share my news and get her advice. We then called the hospital at 10:30 and birthing suite advised me to wait it out at home as long as I was comfortable. As I was feeling fine, I decided to ring my Grandparents to let them know that I could be ready at any time.
But my insistent, impatient and worrying (God love her) grandmother had her own ideas, and bundled me and my bags into the car taking us to hospital just after midday. I knew I was nowhere near ready to be there, and because I was a) stuck in the car with my taunting and annoying younger brothers and b) being pressured into going into hospital, I was extremely anxious, upset and scared and by the time we got to the hospital, a half an hours drive away, my contractions had eased off to more than five minutes apart. I was disappointed but I guess I had expected it after having spent the car trip in tears.
We got settled into delivery suite six and at about 01:15pm, I was put onto CTG monitoring, by Cindy. My Grandma stayed for a bit to keep us company, and as Mum was in to feed the girls she came up to see me too. After they left, I became even more nervous as my contractions were barely making the monitor spike at all. I later learnt this didn't matter, but as I had been in a few weeks beforehand for monitoring and my BH would spike, what seemed to be, dramatically, I started convincing myself that I wasn't actually in labour and ended up slightly hysterical, which sent Jellybean's heart rate a bit high for Anthony's liking, and as such I was banned from looking at the monitor.
Cindy came back in at about 2pm, my contractions were still about four minutes apart and still lasting about forty-five seconds. The intensity had lessened and I was feeling more than 'comfortable'. She offered to send me home with some Panadeine Forte and a sleeping pill so I could try and snooze for the afternoon; as I was incredibly restless from having had only a broken two hours or so of sleep.
I dwelled on this for a long time - I wondered if I was cheating my 'drug free' plan if I took them?
Not wanting to feel 'defeated' so early on, I declined and Cindy ducked off to check on another patient. Anthony sat down with me and reminded me that I still may have a long, long time to go, and that I really needed the sleep if I was going to allow myself to both physically, and mentally make it through labour. She came back after about half an hour and offered to do a vaginal exam. Being the, 'shy & precious' person I am, I also declined, but Anthony jumped in and told her I was just scared ? which was true and I guess I was sharply reminded that I should probably get used to it if I planned on birthing this baby today!
I was fully effaced and about 1cm dilated, which was great news, but after having constant contractions for nine and a half hours and so little progress, I realised that sleep was a great idea. As my grandparents had taken off in the opposite direction, we got a taxi home - the driver kept Anthony entertained by telling him what to expect over the coming hours, while I swore every time we hit a bump. We finally arrived home just after 3pm.
My contractions seemingly sped up and intensified once again, literally the second I walked in the door, and, ironically enough, even more so after I took the Panadeine Forte. They were now back to three or four minutes apart, lasting forty seconds. As it neared closer to 4pm, I took the sleeping pill, and soon after, we ate and climbed into bed.
I knew there was no way I would be able to sleep - the contractions were coming on a lot stronger now, strangely enough, but I knew just the simple rest would help anyway. I was up on all fours, getting Anthony to massage my sacral area during a contraction, when I felt a pop. I thought I had the desperate urge to use my bowels, but as I leaned upwards I realised my waters had broken. I was mighty thankful for the extra blankets I'd put down as a precaution as I soaked through all of it and onto our mattress protector and almost right through to the mattress!
I quickly learnt that it wasn't going to be just one gush, and found myself walking around with a towel shoved between my legs. I was giggly with excitement, but trying hard not to laugh as each time I did I'd feel myself trickle down my leg! Anthony called the hospital for me, and let them know that my waters had broken. We decided to stay home and wait it out a bit longer, as I was determined to try and get some substantial rest. I was already feeling delirious from having taken the sleeping pill and not slept, so I was realising how much I needed to let my mind settle down for a while. We called my mum and my grandparents to let them know, and then I jumped in the shower. Anthony was highly amused watching me gush out everywhere on the shower floor.
I got out of the shower at about 5:15pm, and on the first contraction realised that they were now a lot stronger. I still wasn't ready to go to the hospital, I knew my anxiety would skyrocket and I was worried the contractions would slow down, so we decided to stick it out at home a bit longer. I found that walking around was the easiest way to feel good between contractions, and through a couple of contractions I would hold Anthony's hands and bounce up and down on the balls of my feet. Time slowly wore on and the back pain worsened incredibly, soon coming to depend on the ability to lean over something with each contraction. I found that if I leaned too far it would cause me more pain, so we finally thought to try my yoga ball, allowing me the ease of rolling back and forth on it with the contraction.
My yoga ball was heaven - I found that my contractions were almost painless and very easy to cope with once I had positioned myself comfortably and learnt how to roll, and breathe with the wave of a contraction. Because they were currently still peaking in the middle, this was a very effective way to cope, and I couldn't stop wishing we had tried it sooner.
I asked Anthony to put some music on to keep me distracted and give me something else to focus on. We ended up only playing the one song a few times over before I got too restless of the ball. He came and knelt down next to me and would apply pressure where it hurt during a contraction, breathing with me and calmly talking to me. In hindsight, I know these moments are the ones that carried me through the rest of my labour - the moments before I became completely irrational - and the lyrics of the song were ringing through my ears the whole time.
"It just takes some time, little girl you?re in the middle of the ride,
Everything, everything will be just fine, Everything, everything will be alright, alright."
After a good ten minutes of pacing, whilst Anthony spoke to my mum, I found myself trying to get comfortable to have contractions sitting backwards on the toilet (go figure). It didn't work. Anthony decided seeing as I had stated "I don't think I'll be comfortable anywhere anymore" that it was time for us to go to the hospital, so we called my Grandmother and, after much difficulty trying to clamber once again into the landrover, took off into town. We probably left it too long for comforts sake seeing as the hospital was more than twenty minutes drive away and being restricted in a seatbelt during contractions is, well, less than comfortable. I remember flipping out because I didn't want to swear in front of my grandma, Anthony kept babbling on about the fine for not wearing a seatbelt (as I had taken it off), and my Grandmother kept trying to think of ways to get there faster. All I wanted was out of the damn car, it seemed no sooner than one contraction had finished, we'd hit a bump and it would cause another to start.
We arrived at the hospital just prior to 7pm and I recall having a contraction just as I got down out of the car, leaning over the concrete wall near the entry This time we were put into birthing suite four. Cindy was still on shift and the first thing we did was another vaginal exam. I was 7-8cm dilated, and obviously well into established labour. I was beaming - that had all happened in about four hours and it was a great booster for me to keep positive.
Each contraction felt like it was intensifying in my back. The only position that was now comfortable for me was standing. I could not sit, I could not lie down, and I was deliriously tired. Most of my emotions in labour, I feel, came from the tiredness. I was wishing I had not taken the sleeping pill. I spent a lot of the first half hour in the hospital pacing around. I wasn?t sure how comfortable I was with my grandmother being there, but didn?t have the heart to ask her to leave, and in hindsight it seemed it was good for Anthony to have some supportive distraction even thought she just sat in the corner.
I got into the shower at about 7:30pm, I know at the time I thought it was only slightly taking the edge off the contractions. But the hot water, applying pressure to my back and the ability to lean over and hang onto a railing was a great deal of help. I was becoming increasingly more aware of my tiredness and just wishing I could sleep. So many times I had thought of asking for the epidural just so I could sleep, I felt so weak I could barely hold myself up in the shower, but due to the pain I couldn't not.
Sometime around 8pm Mum came in... at this stage I was feeling extremely vulnerable, and I recall discussing with Anthony about asking them to leave. I decided against it but remember telling mum how I was ready to give up and she suggested I ask for gas or pethidine. I was open to the idea of gas, but not to pethidine as I knew the effect it could have on my baby.
I remember being offered gas while I was in the shower, and declining on several occasions because I knew that, I just had to have more than one pain barrier. I said I'd like to try the bath, but it was too late, as unfortunately someone else had made it in before me. I was disappointed because I really didn't have the strength in my legs to stand anymore. I was encouraged to keep my fluids up, but the more I drank the more nauseous I felt. It was around this time that I began exclaiming that I couldn't do it anymore and I was silently wishing I wouldn't feel so defeated if I asked for an epidural. I also started to feel like I was going to pass out - Cindy thought I was overheating so I was made to get out of the shower.
I was quite loud during my labour (my mum took to informing me of this the next day), but I remember screaming in agony on the first contraction out of the shower, I wanted to be back under the water so badly. By now it was close to 8:30 and I was finding it really difficult to cope, I suggested the epidural but Cindy encouraged me to go on without it, saying she was convinced I had not come here with those intentions and that I had made it so far I should keep powering on. We talked about my pain, and as was having contractions that came as nearly all back pain, she offered to administer the sterile water injections.
I'd read an article about them being very effective, not that I could remember exactly what they did, but I think at this point I couldn't have cared less - I wanted to get through labour naturally, and if the water injections could help I thought I would risk it! I had climbed up onto the bed on all fours and was resting up high on pillows and beanbags. I had the injections shortly after 8:30pm. I knew that the contraction was going to be hard to deal with from this position, I wasn't quite sure how I would deal with needles as well, I was warned they would sting. Well sting they certainly did - I squealed like a banshee! The worst thing was the midwife dropped the first one so I ended up having a fifth which was awful.
After the injections, it was about time for staff change over so I spent the next half an hour just with Anthony, mum and grandma. I was completely dopey and out of it after the water injections. They had almost completely eliminated the pain ? my contractions felt similarly to how they did before my waters broke. I was managing my contractions almost silently and by myself, quite an effort considering beforehand I was screaming in pain as the contractions seemed to come one on top of the other. I remember this is about the only time Anthony got a break, and my Mum was giving him a massage because I wouldn't let anyone come near me.
The new midwife, Corrine, came in to check on me at about 9:15pm. Because the pain of my contractions had calmed somewhat I was emotionally delirious; in tears and constantly wanting to just give up and have the epidural so I could sleep. By this point every one was trying to keep me alert, and focussed on what I wanted but I remember telling my mum to shut the hell up because I didn't want anyone to talk to me! I also recall excusing myself every time I burped, which seems quite funny now as I know there were so many occasions where I was less than polite, telling people to bugger off or shut up!
The contractions came back strong at around 9:30pm. I got a little sick of being offered gas, so I decided I'd give it a try, thinking maybe the 'happy' distraction would take my mind off the sleepiness. I knew a contraction was on the way and after two deep inhalations, the minute the contraction hit I threw the gas mask across the room. There was no way it could be of use as my contractions had no build up and peaked all at the start, that and it tasted horrible and made my mouth immediately dry.
In hindsight I realise how well the injections did work, because they took away the dwindling beginnings of a contraction and all I was left with was an incredible peak and the uncontrollable urge to push. I now know this is where I must have entered transition. I was in disbelief at how strongly they came back, and no matter how hard I tried I could not keep myself from 'pushing' during a contraction.
Mum left at around this time to go and feed the girls. The toilet became my new best friend as sitting on it was the easiest way to manage contractions. Anthony would stand in front of me and hold my hands and when Corrine was there she would massage my back, and encourage me to breathe and pant through the contractions. It was so excruciatingly hard to breathe. No matter how hard I tried, trying to breathe deeper seemed to cause me even more pain. I would stand as the pain eased off at the end of the peak, but I remember the pain just kept radiating for what seemed like an eternity, and then before I knew it I was crippled over on the toilet again. I was losing bits of blood with each contraction - finally having a show.
I kept saying that I had had enough, that I couldn't do it, and that I wanted him (our baby) to go away; I was absolutely exhausted and so desperately hoped I was near the end. At 9:45pm Corrine decided to see if we could see that the head had descended at all. I had a contraction while she was in the middle of it and was in absolute hysterics trying to keep still. I remember just wanting to hit something when she told me she couldn't see anything... I was ready to give up.
Another fifteen minutes passed, I remember pacing to and from the toilet to the mirror in between contractions, I'd look into the mirror trying to convince myself that I could do it. I also remember being incredibly cold. Corrine got me a warm blanket but I was too restless to be able to keep it around me for any longer than the time between a contraction and the next. I got her to do an actual internal exam at 10pm, and I could not believe my ears when she told me I was only 8cm dilated. She then had the audacity to ask if I was sure my waters had broken! I was in sheer disbelief, because I had lost an incredible amount of fluid at home.
On finding out I was still 8cm, so barely a cm progress in three hours - I immediately requested an epidural. I was not prepared to push my body any further. I was both physically and mentally exhausted and I could barely hold myself up any longer. The only thoughts I had were that I wanted to feel nothing and go to sleep. She arranged for the anaesthetist to come when he got out of theatre.
I felt completely deflated - there was no larger disappointment than knowing I had progressed no further. And the defeat made me cry. I had wanted so badly to have my drug free birth, but I really couldn't supply myself with the emotional strength to get through the rest. I settled knowing that I had done myself proud; I?d had a long day and essentially no sleep since 8am the day before. We called my mum to let her know and then I jumped back into the shower.
Between 10pm and 11pm seemed to take forever. I found the shower was no longer of any comfort, I found anyway I sat on the fit ball to be useless and sitting or laying down was even worse now. The urge to push was getting stronger and stronger with each contraction and I was very confused as the internal had quite clearly shown I wasn't yet ready to push.
A doctor came in at about 10:15pm to have her first attempt at placing the IV for the epidural. I had to change out of my dress into a gown and then wait for another contraction to pass so I could sit on the edge of the bed. She tried the first one in my left hand, but I wouldn't bleed. And so with another contraction, we then tried the right arm, but she couldn't get me to bleed there either. On the next contraction I was antsy to be on my feet again, but stayed sitting, with the help of both Anthony's hands to grip and him using his head to continue massaging my sacral area, as he was sitting behind me!
I was sick of hearing Corrine telling me that I wasn't ready, and reassuring me that my baby would be coming soon enough and that I would be ok. I knew she was just trying her best to soothe me, and I was incredibly difficult to deal with at that stage, but I couldn't stand the babying tones. The doctor came back to try my left arm, it took her ages to find a vein and then when she found one I had another contraction that sent me bolting for the support of the toilet. We finally had a go at that vein, but she couldn't get me to bleed there either! We were now unfortunately going to have to try my right arm, but finally, some success. I thought I was going to faint when she was taking blood as I knew I was low on energy and fluid, but I was only hit with a few waves of nausea.
Mum came back around 10:40pm. I really badly wanted cuddles from Anthony and mummy cuddles from her but I couldn't physically stand people being that close to me. I also felt a bit sorry for my Grandma as she had just sat in the corner the whole time; I remember apologising to her over and over for being so much trouble. I spent the next fifteen minutes pacing in and out of the bathroom, from the bed to the mirror, using the toilet to get through a contraction and swearing wondering where the hell the anaesthetist was. I remember Anthony trying to breathe and pant with me through contractions, but he was totally out of rhythm and it really annoyed me so I told him to 'p**s off'!
The anaesthetist finally arrived at 10:58pm. I vividly remember staring at the clock and wanting to kill him for taking so long! He did his whole big medical spiel about the dangers and made sure I wanted to go ahead with it - think I was a bit past rational decision making at this point! While they were setting everything up, I climbed up onto the bed on all fours to try and deal with the next contraction.
It came on incredibly strong, I remember the urge to push being so different to what I had been feeling for the hour beforehand and this time I really could not stop myself. I was pushing with all my strength and finally, Corrine cottoned on. She told me she wanted to check me out before I had the epidural and I kept telling her to check from where she was, because I just couldn't lay down. The next contraction was about thirty seconds after the first and as I was pushing I could feel my baby's head intensely low and I was positive he had begun to crown. Corrine kept telling me there was a lot of pressure and that she really needed to have a look. I was thinking to my rational self, the self that knew he had begun to crown, that I was going to birth my baby there, just like that. My irrational self still wanted desperately to sleep and wanted that damn epidural and was ready to listen to whatever Corrine and the anaesthetist were both telling me to do. That was, encouraging me to turn over and lay on my back so she could see what was going on and so he could see that it was worth him being there. I finally got on my back on the bed, and the anaesthetist left almost straight away - I was, in my head, beside myself with joy - I had done it drug free after all.
With Anthony on my left side, I was calling out that I needed another hand. Corrine came over to help me and all I could say was 'no, not you' before (and I swear this all happened at once) mum jumped in and grabbed my right hand, Corrine realised I was about to birth him and buzzed a nurse, I almost died of embarrassment as I saw my grandma standing at the foot of the bed watching and the next contraction hit. With three massive pushes, I almost completely birthed his head. I could feel an intense burning sensation as I felt him move closer into the world. It was all happening so quickly. In between the push and the next contraction, I had my face tightly screwed up, I didn't watch at all. It was strange to feel him stuck there, and it hurt to have him stuck in that position until the next contraction. Anthony told me that he had a head full of hair and I know all I wanted to do at that time was touch his head. I didn't, i didn't have the energy to lift my arm that far, and knew I'd want my mum's hand the second a contraction came on.
The next contraction hit and it barely took any effort with the next push to have his head out. The cord was wrapped around his neck (I didn't know this at the time). In the back of my mind I started to panic about tearing but breathed in deeply and pushed as hard as I could on the next contraction. Due to the cord being around his neck the nurse had to pull the cord one way and Corrine made sure our baby came the other. Birthing his shoulders felt like I would split in half, but the overwhelming feeling of absolute elation once he was out and then all the fluid gushed out after him was incredible. He was born at 11:08pm.
I remember Anthony tightly squeezing my hand and my mum hugging me and telling me he was finally here. My little Blue Jellybean was now an Alexander. Alex was placed immediately on my chest while Corrine gave him a clean, and waited to clamp and cut the cord. I couldn't get untangled from the IV and out of the gown quick enough!! I desperately wanted my little boy on my skin. I think the first thing I said was that he had his Daddy's brown eyes. I never thought he'd look so blue - I gather it was to do with the cord being around his neck, but he was breathing fine and his Apgars were 8 and 9. My mum was so quick with the camera - I was so lucky to have her there to capture the shortly post-birth memories.
Anthony then got to cut the cord, and then I brought Alex back up close to my chest for a cuddle. I was given the Syntometrine injection and on the next contraction, had to put in all my effort to push to birth the placenta. It really was nothing compared to a baby, but I know the energy I had to muster to get it out really was difficult. Meanwhile, Anthony was smitten with his new love.
The nurse and midwife then did the check for any tearing, it hurt more than I had imagined. I think they were quite rough because they were both in disbelief at my quick delivery and like me were expecting there to be some damage. I (somehow) managed to get away with only an outer labial graze that didn't require any stitches.
I think I went into shock after the birth; I shivered and shook myself silly for almost an hour. Partly because of such a quick delivery and I had also been really cold during my labour but unable to keep a blanket on me, so once he was finally birthed and the pain fading, I was freezing.
My beautiful baby boy eventually had his first breastfeed just after midnight.
My Labour & Birth Details as per Hospital Discharge -
Onset of 1st Stage (spontaneous) at 05:00 on 23/02/2008
Membranes Ruptured (spontaneous) at 16:30 on 23/02/2008
Total length of labour was 18:15
1st Stage being 17:50
2nd Stage being 00:18
3rd Stage being 00:07
I think they decided to estimate second stage, as I would have classified it as from 11:00pm when I was on the bed on all fours; which would have made it eight minutes, and flat eighteen hours for first stage, but i guess i don't know how they work these things out.
Alexander was born weighing 3650gms - 8lbs.
He measured 52cm in length and his head circumference was 36cm.
His Apgars were 8 at one minute and 9 at five minutes.
I am still overwhelmed and still coming to terms with this experience. I still can't believe he's mine.
It really just is, emotionally explosive.
