I wasn’t writing my blog when I had Boo so, apart from my tongue-in-check birth story, I have never really shared it.
Beb has been a different matter. I feel I have shared quite a lot of this pregnancy so I have decided to fill you in with what happened on the day.
If you read previous posts about my pregnancy, you will know that as of about 32 weeks, Beb was breech. He did turn at 34 weeks to head down but was breech again by 36 weeks and stayed that way.
I was therefore booked in to have a scan on birth day and, if he hadn’t turned, I would have my elective caesarean.
In hindsight, if he had turned, I am sure I would have felt it. This is me when I arrived at the ward and, as you can see, there wasn’t much room left in my tummy.
Hubster and I waited and were seen by midwives, anaesthetists and doctors and I was beginning to think they were just going to do the section without scanning me.
Next I was sent to labour ward and assigned a midwife who would be with me throughout. Thankfully, I knew her from my many visits to the Antenatal Day Unit and I was settled in a room.
A scan machine was wheeled in and the doctor came and performed the ultrasound. Baby was still breech and she made a note of how baby was lying and where the placenta was.
It was then a waiting game. I was the only elective section booked that day but the lovely Colette from Going on Adventure had kindly warned me the night before that I might be in for a wait and I am so glad she had because wait we did.
Being nil-by-mouth since the night before and heavily pregnant, I was starving but at 11am, it seemed to be hotting up and I was next.
Having had Boo naturally, with just one shot of pethidine throughout the whole labour and even that was early on, I thought I had quite a high pain threshold.
I was aware that I had funny veins so, when a lovely young doctor came along to put a cannula in my hand, I didn’t expect to leave the bed in such a fashion and cry.
I put it down to hormones but, after the third attempt, the anaesthetist was called to carry out the procedure as it turns out I have very small veins and they use very big needles. Ouch.
Lucky me, being diabetic, I also had to have another cannula fitted for insulin. I was having fun.
My excitement at being next was short lived as the maternity ward went into shut down because they were so busy and another emergency went in.
At noon, they came again and said theatre was being cleaned and I really was next so I walked over at around 12.30 with Hubster looking remarkably attractive in scrubs.
After everyone in the theatre introduced themselves, I sat on the edge of the operating table, with my legs up on a set of steps and leant over.
After pouring burning alcohol on my back, the anaesthetist said “Just a sharp scratch,” which honestly was the biggest lie ever told.
It took him three attempts to get the spinal block in, by which time I was crying again.
I had a blood pressure cuff on which made the cannula in my right arm really hurt but I had a lovely warm feeling in my legs and the tugging from under the sheet, told me something was happening.
Hubster held my hand and was an absolute rock. He told me after that he had been really worried but he hadn’t shown it and I can never thank him enough for being there for me. He really was brilliant and so supportive.
I expected it to be like on TV when the baby would be whipped out in a matter of seconds but it seemed to take ages before we heard the baby cry.
It seems there are a number of layers to get through before they reach the womb.
“It’s a boy! Do you want to see him?”
I have never said yes so loudly in my life but then it all went wrong.
Hubster stood up to take a photo of the baby with the camera but they never lifted the screen down so I didn’t get to see my boy when he was born.
It may not seem like such a big deal to some people but I was gutted and continue to be upset about it now.
I kept saying is he ok? The midwife kept saying yes, we are just cleaning him up and he was fine, he was just covered in a lot of that sticky stuff so had to be dried off but my boy didn’t get to meet his mummy for what seemed like hours.
He was eventually brought to me and I immediately fell in love.
Husbter went with Beb and the midwife whilst he was weighed and they finished stitching me up. I was wheeled into recovery and Beb was put on me for some lovely skin to skin and, whilst Hubster went to ring his mum and get something to eat, I had some quality time with my baby.
He latched on straight away which I was very pleased about and I was taken back to the labour ward.
When I gave birth to Boo, I felt a sense of euphoria. I didn’t get that with Beb. Don’t get me wrong, I was over the moon that he was here and alive but I couldn’t stop crying.
Whether it was relief that he was here, a culmination of thinking about how long it had taken us to get here and actually have another baby or the caesarean, I don’t know.
I think I really did not want the section and I was in denial about having to have one right up until my legs went numb and I lay down.
It wasn’t my idea of a calm birth and Hubster was shocked about it too. People have to have caesareans every day for medical reasons, like me for having a breech baby. When you hear of people opting for caesareans though, I am sorry, I think they are mad. I would go through ten labours to ensure I wouldn’t have to go through this again.
What came later in the hospital didn’t help either but that is for another time.
I will reserve the next part of the story for another time but, seeing as this part took me a month to tell, don’t hold your breath.
Our boy had arrived and we couldn’t have been happier.