This went nothing like I imagined but something like this…

About 4 weeks prior to due date:

The boys in my team ask – ‘should we keep a bucket under your desk incase your waters break? what if that happens??’

Me – ‘Your waters don’t just suddenly break, that is like SO unlikely to happen. I’ll know when I’m in labour don’t worry, it all starts off nice and slow…’

Fast forward to the day before my due date:

10.00am – wake up feeling like an elephant and wonder how long it’ll take me to get out of bed today

12.00pm – manage to stomach some lunch not that there is any room left in me for food; still have heartburn but no sign of any contractions

4.00pm – feeling pretty fed up; too tired to waddle about anywhere, too uncomfortable to sit and relax – pretty much what I’ve been feeling like all week

6.00pm – I need to get out the house. Suggest we go for a walk and eat out on the high street

8.00pm – just eaten the spiciest tandoori lamb chops ever – my mouth is actually on fire and the can of coke I ‘treated’ myself to is making it worse

10.30pm – the coke was a bad idea. I’m so full of gas I feel even bigger and more uncomfortable – how am I going to sleep? I need the whole bed to myself – hubby resigned to the spare room…again

11.00pm – drifting off to sleep….

11.05pm – why does it feel like I’m peeing myself…am I dreaming…I’m pretty sure I’m awake…I’m definately peeing myself…it’s not stopping….OH SHIT…is this my waters breaking….no it can’t be, I’ve not had a single contraction…maybe I drank too much coke….that’s ridiculous…I’m a grown adult, I don’t pee myself in bed….SHIT…what’s happening….maybe I should get up

11.07pm – standing beside my bed, I’m still peeing…yep I think my waters just broke…ensue panic…what the hell do I do…this shouldn’t happen….ok breathe, start breathing and calm down…run to toilet whilst frantically calling for husband…breathe…breathe…

11.08pm – now in the bathroom…it’s still coming…how long does this last…why isn’t it clear…what colour should it be…what did we learn in the ante-natal classes…shit am I going to have this baby in my bathroom…please no….ok, now I’m being over dramatic, back to breathing…you know what to do…call triage and get to hospital….everything will be fine…(to hubby) HELLOOOOOOO…WHERE THE F**K ARE YOU…how are you still asleep…SERIOUSLY, WAKE THE F**K UP

11.10pm – husband comes running in…’were you calling…oh shit’…yes – OH SHIT indeed!

11.15pm – Me – ‘I can’t get through to triage…lets get in the car I’ll call them on the way to the hospital’; Hubby – ‘right, I’m going to have a quick shower and pack my bag’; Me – ‘I’m sorry…WHAT? HAVE A F-ING SHOWER??’ I’m so enraged at this point but I know I need to stay calm, but seriously, how many times did I say have your bag packed!!!!!

11.30pm – finally in the car, hospital bags and baby car seat in tow…shit…is this it? Is the baby coming??

11.50pm – Hubby drops me off at hospital entrance whilst he goes to park car…two men are patiently waiting to be buzzed in…I don’t have time to be patient…I can barely stand up…I’m still polite though…’excuse me but how long have you been waiting to be let in’…one of the men turns round and is about to say something…on seeing the pool of water gathering at my feet he turns back round and frantically starts buzzing…’there’s a lady out here, I think she is having her baby, someone please hurry and open the door’…thank f**k for that

00.15am – After being poked and prodded down there I’m told I am only 2cm dilated but due to my unclear waters I now have to stay in hospital and be monitored until the baby arrives (the sudden breaking of my waters and the fact that they were unclear is a sign of the baby being in some kind of distress…not what we wanted to hear but at least we were in the right place). So I’m hooked up to a load of machines to measure my contractions and the baby’s heart rate but other than that not much happening…

00.30am – then out of nowhere the contractions start, slow and bearable at first but after about 20 minutes they are suddenly really strong and coming every 3-4 minutes…this is where everything I had learnt in the daisy birthing classes started to come back to me and really helped be through each contraction. I calmly breathed through each one, picturing it like a wave just like I had learnt (seriously, I’m not joking, even though I laugh at the thought of it now). Unlike the woman in the cubicle next to me who had been squealing like a strangled cat for the last 45 minutes. I don’t mean to judge, and every woman’s experience is different, but it was so f-ing irritating. I mean, she was totally ruining the serene paradise beach scene I was trying to picture in my head. Get me to my own room now PLEEEASE

01.00am – ‘We’re taking you down to the labour ward now’. Thank God for that. So they put me in a wheelchair and took me down to my own room. I now felt both excited and terrified. It’s really happening, our baby is on its way.

01.15am – Everything stopped. The contractions that had been coming so strong and frequently were now barely every 10 minutes. Once again I was hooked up to machines so they could check the baby’s heart rate, which seemed fine, but they wanted the contractions to speed up so hooked me up to the Oxytocin hormone drip. This is not what I wanted as I knew that once I had any form of intervention it would probably lead to another. But when you are actually in that situation and that’s what the doctors are telling you, you just listen and do what they say. They are the experts after all.

03.00am – I’ve been pacing around the room for the last 2 hours, bouncing on the ball, picturing my beach and the waves. The contractions are now every 5 minutes or so. All seems to be fine. Hubby asks if he can take a nap. Half of me is thinking – really, a nap, now, when I’m having OUR baby? But then the other half of me thinks he’s not doing anything anyway he may as well take a nap. So he gets nice and comfy on his chair, fully reclined, hood over face, and dozes off.

03.15am – 8.00am – The next 5 hours actually went pretty quickly. The contractions got closer and stronger and I seemed to be coping fine with the pain. It was painful but bearable. The midwife must have thought different however as she kept asking me if I wanted to try some pain relief.

‘How are you feeling? How’s the pain? Do you want to try some gas & air now?’. Why does she keep asking me I thought. I feel like I’m fine – do I sound like I’m in pain? Maybe I sound like that woman up in triage and she just wants me to shut up? I don’t want any pain relief but I feel like I have to as I’ve been asked so many times so I ask to try the gas & air.

I wish I hadn’t. It just made me feel groggy. Is it even helping with the pain I thought. I’m not sure it is and now I can’t concentrate on my breathing properly.

08.15am – The midwife is checking the charts. She calls another midwife. They are both reviewing the charts now. I think something is up but they aren’t saying anything. The second midwife seems to think everything is ok but says she will come back in 15 minutes to check. They tell me to try lying down on the bed for a bit on my side, get some rest. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to stay upright and mobile but I’m so groggy with the gas & air and I can really feel the contractions now so I just do as they say.

I’m not really sure of the timings of what happened next. The midwife pressed the panic button and in an instant there were about 10 people in the room all in various coloured scrubs. The baby’s heart rate had dropped. They did a scan and the cord was not wrapped around the neck. Thank goodness for that but they couldn’t see what was the cause of the drop. They needed to get the baby out. I was going to have a c-section. It wasn’t what I wanted but there was no choice.

All I could think now was please let the baby be ok. There was so much going on. Various people were talking to me, waving papers in my face, giving me documents to sign, undressing me, dressing me, hubby getting his scrubs on. I was in a lot of pain now, still a bit delirious from the gas, but all I did was pray that the baby would be ok.

I was taken into theatre. It was a very calm and professional environment. Everything was explained to us, and we were talked through each step of the procedure as it happened, my hubby sat by my side. It was a weird sensation. I could feel the rummaging going on but I felt no pain. Again my focus was to breathe and pray for the baby.

‘The head is out’ someone whispered to me. ‘It’s out, they’ve got the baby out.’

Please cry. Please cry. Please cry. That’s what I kept saying to myself for what felt like an eternity but in reality was probably just a second.

And then we heard it. He cried. A big, loud, cry right from the guts. He’s here. And he sounds just fine. At that moment, my husband and I looked at each other and we cried.

He’s here. Our beautiful, healthy, baby boy was born at 09.50am, right on his due date, and our life as a family began.

So there you have it. Whilst the birth of my baby was not how I imagined, it was still a positive experience. In a situation which could have been stressful, there was no sense of an emergency to cause me panic. The operating theatre became my beach, and the waves were now…only joking…I’ll stop with that now!

Until next time,

Love S xx