We were to check in at 2pm, so obviously I was there, on the dot. There was no way I wasn’t going to be first there, as I saw it, it was first come first serve and I wanted my baby!
We were asked to wait in a tv lounge area, I wasn’t given a bed until 2:45pm and I was irate!! I was then shown to a room with two other women, who were both quite lovely. One was not local and had started going in to early labour so she was being kept in to keep her baby in. And the other had gestational diabetes so she was in periodically to be monitored. I was examined, hooked up to monitors and given my first progesterone tablet at 3pm. I was still only 1 lousy cm dilated; I was hoping that this pill would part my cervix like Moses did the red sea! My mother and Johnathan sat with me for a while hoping I could come off the monitors…. This was unfortunately not something that baby was willing to let happen. We couldn’t get a 20-minute reading where she wasn’t bouncing off the walls of my uterus. Unfortunately the huge baby resting on my bladder meant that I eventually needed to pee and I was told it would be easier to keep the monitors on, bollocks. I had nothing on from the waist down and had 2 big elastic straps around my bump monitoring movement and heartbeat, then at least 4 leads coming off those, to my recollection it was more like 8 but I know that is probably untrue, that plugged in to the monitor. I grabbed the sheet off the bed to put around myself and tried to slink off into the bathroom holding the sheet and the wires and trying to stop them falling. The sheet kept falling off so I was mooning my fellow ward mates, I nearly dropped the wires in the toilet and one of the straps came undone! I felt like I had an octopus attached to my stomach, and one with an opinion. When I was getting hooked back up Johnathan and mum went off to M&S to get me culinary provisions as I could be in for the long haul and hospital food isn’t exactly hyper palatable!! Alas when they returned I was still hooked up. I couldn’t wait to eat, as I was too nervous to eat in the morning so the hunger pangs were in full swing. The food (a delightful white chocolate and creme patissiere eton mess in particular) just sent baby into a tailspin and I ended up being hooked up to the monitors for 5 and a half hours!! They were only just off before they went back on!! Eventually J and my mother had to leave, definitely one of the downsides of being induced. I was given another exam at 11pm. Being pregnant you notice a few things; one is that no one truly cares about how you are suffering as long as the baby is ok. That’s right, your life is no longer about you! Another is that there is always a student on hand, ALWAYS. Now, I am all for students having a bash, it’s the only way for them to learn, so of course I let them dive in. And dive in she did, yet again, elbow deep in search of my cervix and being guided by another midwife. I had been getting regular but faint contractions and the midwife thought my traces looked good so was hoping that I had progressed at least a little. I could see the worried face and desperate looks that the student was giving the midwife so I figured either she managed as well as Johnathan or nothing had happened. She didn’t feel confident in her assessment so the midwife took over. Obviously I was just pleased as punch to hear the midwife confirm and support the student in acknowledging that absolutely fudge all had progressed with me. She rammed another tablet up there and told me to get some sleep as I was probably in for a long stay. OH JOY. Safe to say I couldn’t sleep, I bounced about on my ball and tried to read to take my mind off things. The girls in the ward went off to sleep and I sat in the dark and tried not to wake them, I know how hard it is to get a decent sleep when you’re pregnant. I could feel my insides start to tangle, I felt like a balloon animal, and spent an inordinate amount of time in the toilet (In the dark as I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to turn on the damn light). At 1am the contractions really ramped up a notch, it was like going from being tickled to being kicked in the stomach. I was doubled over hoping that it was having some effect, holding my hips and breathing heavily. I was terrified of waking my ward mates so I went off to the common room to moan and walk and squirm. Eventually I buckled and went to the nurses at around 2am and said that I was getting painful contractions and asked what to do. The overwhelming consensus was that I should take pain relief. Now, I am no easy way out type of gal, I hate having to take painkillers unless totally necessary and I wanted to try to make it through the birth as sober as possible. My requests were not well received I must say, I vividly remember being told “oh, you’re one of those”, how charming!! The midwife who had examined me told me that my contractions were most likely false and that I’d probably be waiting till my next check in another 8 hours as the progesterone didn’t appear to be making much difference. In cases like mine I would receive another pill at 7 or 8am and then if that didn’t work I’d have to wait 24hours and then if a doctor cleared me, I’d have one more pill before they looked at other means. It was Thursday night, by these standards I would be in until Sunday. After being made to feel like a princess, seeing 2 others take some drugs and believing I was in it for the long haul I took the pain relief and was told to try and rest. It worked like a charm, at making me extremely nauseous, but doing sod all for my ever mounting pain. I held out in the room for another hour in the pitch black, contracting for a minute every 5 minutes. I went out for a walk and then said that I was really, truly sore. The midwife ran me a bath, a hot bath!! After months of Johnathan giving me 20 degree baths I couldn’t wait for a skin scolding bath. I got in and immediately had a contraction, which didn’t seem altogether too bad, I had a few more but they started to sting, the heat was not my savior. I tried to lie back and relax; I felt something happen and squeezed my pelvic floor. I crossed my fingers that it would be my waters and looked down… to my horror a murky substance rose up in the bath. I flew out of there faster than I have ever moved in my life. I drained the water and cleaned the bath, horrified!! I had no idea what to do, I ran out of the bathroom, got dressed and put a towel in, well, you know where. I messaged Johnathan and paced in a panic, I stayed upright and kept squeezing to make sure that what happened came from where I thought it came from. Surely all of your functions go after the baby and not before?!! I went to the toilet and squeezed, hallelujah! I was not incontinent, I had not crapped in a bath, and I had successfully navigated my way back out of the most embarrassing moment in my life. But then horror set in, meconium in my water, which can mean fetal distress. I went straight to the midwives desk and told them what had happened and handed her the towel, she asked if I had kept the bath water (was she serious!!!!!). They took me back to my bed and hooked me straight back up, like a whale, on my back. It is possibly the worst position to be in when having a contraction. Which FYI feel like the worst period pain you can imagine, but instead of the cramp being confined to the pelvic area it stretches all the way to your armpits! The paediatricians came back pretty quick and confirmed that it was meconium and said I was going straight downstairs. I told Johnathan what had happened and then my bag was taken by the midwife and I was put in a wheelchair. Off we went to the labour ward, I was terrified. I couldn’t get my phone to let J know I was ok and I was going to give birth, to push a huge thing out of a tiny hole. I was so excited but I immediately felt horribly unprepared, why didn’t I shovel some chocolate into my face before the paediatricians came?!
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AuthorKatie Pugh - Wife, Mother, Product Manager, Aspiring Chef, Overachiever ArchivesCategories |