Giles and I are over the moon - Orla Rebecca was born at 9.15pm on Sunday 22nd February, weighing in at 8lbs 3oz. The whole labour and birth were completely natural in the end - no hanging about for induction after all!
A Gory Details Alert for the squeamish - skip to the end! - but I know some of you want to know it all...
On Saturday 21st, some erratic contractions had started late afternoon. As I'd been having them all week, I was hopeful but not counting my chickens... they'd had a tendency to come regularly for an hour or two and to then stop abruptly, to my intense frustration. I woke up with a start at 3am; it had either been a real one or a rather painfully vivid dream! I got up, distracted myself on the internet and timed them - about 8 mins apart - until Giles woke up at about 6.30am - by then they were stronger and about 5-6 mins apart. We called the hospital and went in at 8am, but although they let me stay for a warm bath (only a shower in the rented cottage) I was still only 1cm dilated - same as two weeks before! - so we went home.
By 2pm, I was throwing up, crawling on the floor and furniture, wired to the TENs machine and telling Giles that it wasn't strong enough to be much help, so we went back in. Hallelujah! I was about 3-4cm by then, so they kept me in... but the next 2cm went on for another four hours! I couldn't stand the tube for gas and air and it was making me throw up, so stuck with the TENs machine. Strangely, I knew when the big contractions were coming, as I started to shiver uncontrollably about a minute before they started - Giles got up a good rhythm of throwing a robe around me, then whipping it off my shoulders and replacing it with a cold flannel on the back of my neck as the contractions kicked in! It was a new one on Rachel, the midwife - she'd never seen anyone do that before!
By 6 or 7pm it was getting pretty bad - Rachel had to break my waters to speed up the contractions, so they were far more painful and frequent. I had to walk around and stand for a couple of hours as resting was slowing the contractions and dilation, and finally at 8pm, Rachel, told me I was at 9cm. It was so hard not to push by then, but she and Giles helped me to breathe through and resist for as long as possible. By the end of her shift, there was just a tiny rim of my cervix left, and Rachel held it aside with her finger as I pushed with a contraction to push the baby into the birth canal. The two incoming midwives only just had time to get their gloves on before one massive push delivered her head, and then the next contraction delivered the rest of her! The pushing stage only took about 5-10 mins - no tears, just two tiny external lacerations, so no stitches were necessary. The midwives put a wet, sticky little bundle of baby and towels onto my chest and there she was, at last. We were left alone for an hour or two to cuddle her, skin to skin - Giles had a go, too, though the baby was a little confused by his chest hair! It was so sad for him to go home when they took us up to the postnatal ward - through the rest of the night, Orla fed and cuddled up, sleeping in my arms. It was wonderful.
Apparently we were the talk of the labour ward - Orla has a huge thick mop of hair, and I had done 18 hours on a TENs machine - apparently not a common occurence! MWs also loved my birth plan - I had written (five weeks previously) that if the second stage was happening very fast, I wanted to "slow things down by pushing between contractions"! So birth plans really do go to hell in a handcart once you're in the delivery room...
On Saturday 21st, some erratic contractions had started late afternoon. As I'd been having them all week, I was hopeful but not counting my chickens... they'd had a tendency to come regularly for an hour or two and to then stop abruptly, to my intense frustration. I woke up with a start at 3am; it had either been a real one or a rather painfully vivid dream! I got up, distracted myself on the internet and timed them - about 8 mins apart - until Giles woke up at about 6.30am - by then they were stronger and about 5-6 mins apart. We called the hospital and went in at 8am, but although they let me stay for a warm bath (only a shower in the rented cottage) I was still only 1cm dilated - same as two weeks before! - so we went home.
By 2pm, I was throwing up, crawling on the floor and furniture, wired to the TENs machine and telling Giles that it wasn't strong enough to be much help, so we went back in. Hallelujah! I was about 3-4cm by then, so they kept me in... but the next 2cm went on for another four hours! I couldn't stand the tube for gas and air and it was making me throw up, so stuck with the TENs machine. Strangely, I knew when the big contractions were coming, as I started to shiver uncontrollably about a minute before they started - Giles got up a good rhythm of throwing a robe around me, then whipping it off my shoulders and replacing it with a cold flannel on the back of my neck as the contractions kicked in! It was a new one on Rachel, the midwife - she'd never seen anyone do that before!
By 6 or 7pm it was getting pretty bad - Rachel had to break my waters to speed up the contractions, so they were far more painful and frequent. I had to walk around and stand for a couple of hours as resting was slowing the contractions and dilation, and finally at 8pm, Rachel, told me I was at 9cm. It was so hard not to push by then, but she and Giles helped me to breathe through and resist for as long as possible. By the end of her shift, there was just a tiny rim of my cervix left, and Rachel held it aside with her finger as I pushed with a contraction to push the baby into the birth canal. The two incoming midwives only just had time to get their gloves on before one massive push delivered her head, and then the next contraction delivered the rest of her! The pushing stage only took about 5-10 mins - no tears, just two tiny external lacerations, so no stitches were necessary. The midwives put a wet, sticky little bundle of baby and towels onto my chest and there she was, at last. We were left alone for an hour or two to cuddle her, skin to skin - Giles had a go, too, though the baby was a little confused by his chest hair! It was so sad for him to go home when they took us up to the postnatal ward - through the rest of the night, Orla fed and cuddled up, sleeping in my arms. It was wonderful.
Apparently we were the talk of the labour ward - Orla has a huge thick mop of hair, and I had done 18 hours on a TENs machine - apparently not a common occurence! MWs also loved my birth plan - I had written (five weeks previously) that if the second stage was happening very fast, I wanted to "slow things down by pushing between contractions"! So birth plans really do go to hell in a handcart once you're in the delivery room...
So although it didn't feel like it at the time, it was actually a really, really good experience. Orla is just amazing, and is eating, sleeping, pooping and everything else like a dream! We can't believe we don't have to give her back. I never believed I'd feel like this, but my friend summed it up best in her text message the following morning -
"Nothing else matters now that she's here."
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