I write this whilst nursing her so I apologise for any mistakes! This is my birth story, I'll write down everything I remember as I never want to forget.
I'll start 2 days before, Ben and I's 1st wedding anniversary... I wasn't in labour, but to me, it's significant because for the first time since I'd been pregnant, I didn't want to do anything. No more rushing to Ikea for that cushion cover I simply HAD to have before baby arrived or manically doing cleaning or home improvements; not that we planned on doing that anyway as it was our anniversary, but the plan had been for well over a month that, if I wasn't already with baby, we were going to go for a walk and to Wagamama for a Fire Cracker. My due date was the next day.
We ended up staying in all day whilst I sporadically napped and ate. My body must have known what was to come... I didn't realise though, I just felt content and sleepy and hungry.
We made burritos and I took a big bite out of a hot chilli and consumed alot of pineapple and raspberry leaf tea, as I had done for about a month. (All these things are supposed to bring on labour, who knows.)
1am, I was woken with discomfort, like I'd left it a bit too long to have a wee. By the time I'd started to go, the pain went. Naturally, I thought it was just bladder pain. An hour later, it happened again. Every hour I was awoken. It didn't really hurt, I just felt slightly irritated that I wasn't sleeping properly.
By 8am, whilst Ben was getting ready for work, I had a massive headache (the first one I'd had in months). I asked him to grab a headache patch from my labour bag. Ben took ages faffing about, trying to find one. Preparation for fetching me things during labour didn't look promising.
By 10am, I was chatting to my equally as pregnant friend. She told me she was having contractions through the night. I said I didn't know what they felt like. She explained and I quickly realised that I may actually be in labour. I then cottoned on to the fact that I was still having these "need a wee pains" and that they were starting to feel like medium period cramps. My friend told me to download a contraction counting app. I was convinced the pains would stop as soon as I downloaded it, they didn't.
I was in denial all morning, I couldn't possibly be in labour because it was my due date...
I had an appointment with the midwife at 2pm anyway, I thought I'd mention it to her then.
Ben came home to take me there and I asked him to quickly take a photo of my bump before we went, I wanted a due date photo with my instax camera. Little did I know that it was my last ever bump photo.
The midwife confirmed that Baby T was engaged and had dropped (finally!) She also felt when I had a contraction and confirmed it. She advised us to go for a walk but it was raining (obviously! Cheers June) so we went for a long shop in Tesco (after stopping off at Subway because I simply had to have a Tuna sub.) We grabbed some lucozade and cereal bars whilst I seemed to be having a contraction every other aisle.
Ben went back to work and returned home at 6ish, by this point I was almost certain that I could actually definitely be in labour now. I was ringing my mum and keeping her updated all day as she was my 2nd birthing partner but it wasn't until nearly 10pm that we asked her to come over, just in case. I ate a burger at 8pm, stopping to have a contraction every 7 minutes.
Once my mum arrived, things started advancing. My contraction app was showing that my contractions were irregular, ranging from 5 to 10 minutes between each one, lasting from 30 seconds to a minute.
By 11pm the contractions were at the really painful stage. I couldn't talk through them and I wouldn't be able to move from the position I was in when they first started. This proved a problem if I was sat on my birth ball as, for me, the birth ball made the contraction worse. I found it best hugging onto the arm of the sofa.
I told my mum to go to bed at around midnight as I didn't think I was going to be going into hospital any time soon. I ran myself a bath to relieve the pain (I hadn't had any painkillers. ) I'd heard that baths slowed down labour but I felt it was time.
Once I got in the bath, within a few minutes I felt a sharp pain and heard a "pop!". My waters had gone in the bath. Believe me, it's very hard to see anything in a bath full of water and bubbles!
I called for my mum whilst Ben rang the midwife. They seemed pretty chilled about it and although my contractions had sped up to between 1 and 4 minutes apart, they didn't seem in a hurry to get me in to hospital unless I wasn't coping. I was coping as I found breathing through them was ok... I was just a tad concerned that I was going to give birth at home when I felt safest at hospital and didn't know what to expect.
Anyway, as soon as I stepped out of the bath, my waters were going everywhere. Mum tried to dress me 3 times but I kept getting everything soaked. (Along with her trying to shove things that no longer fitted me over my head!) Ben took all the bags up to the car and waited at the top of our garden steps for me to get in. It was horrible weather outside, windy and rainy. I had to time my last contraction so I could get up the stairs and in the car before having another one. It must have been about 12.30am.
The car journey was... fast. I could faintly hear the radio whilst the rain hammered on the windows. Ben was overtaking lorries alot. My mum was super quiet... I think she thought we were going to die.
I was handling the pain. I just focused on them and went into my own little world. I was a little scared but excited.
Ben pulled up outside the hospital, I was greeted by the lovely sight of new mums and pregnant ladies, smoking under a no smoking sign. Ben went to go and park whilst mum and I checked in. I didn't get much of a welcome. In fact, I wasn't talking as I was focusing on my breathing and so no one even bothered to ask how I was. I'd wanted a water birth. It became quite apparent when I walked into my room that there was only a bed. The birthing suite was "shut", funnily enough, it had been for my sister in law 5 months earlier so I wasn't surprised. The midwife proceeded to ask me questions about my pregnancy and where we worked. I was in no state for talking so I just stared at Ben to answer for me. The midwife didn't seem particularly friendly towards me. I felt angry in my head. Like swearing but I didn't say anything. I was annoyed that the birth pool wasn't "open" with no explanation and that I'd had no friendly welcome of any sort. I felt a bit out of my depth and quite frankly, pissed off.
I was told she wanted to measure my belly whilst she faffed about trying to find a tape measure which she ended up going out of the room to try and find. By this point, I'd not been asked if I wanted any sort of pain relief or if I was even ok. I was getting even more irritated by that. I kept quiet though. I just wanted to stay calm.
My mum asked the midwife if I could have gas and air. She replied by saying she needed to check I was in labour first. I glared at her. She went and got me gas and air!
As soon as I was breathing in that sweet miracle, I was able to talk between contractions and had a bit of a laugh with everyone. The midwife cheered up and took me more seriously once she realised I was 5cm dilated. There was one point she was going for a coffee break and I asked if I could have a break too. Midwives came and went, I'd welcome them with a thumbs up. The contractions were bare able with gas and air. In all honesty, they were bloody painful, the worst pain I've ever experienced but nowhere near as painful as I'd imagined.
By 5am, after what seemed like only 10 minutes of being in hospital when in fact we'd been there since about 1am; I felt the need to push.
It felt like I needed a poo, like my stomach was heaving to be sick but the opposite way. For the first time, I started making noises. Low, mooing ones. I'd heard that was a sign someone was ready to push and my body was automatically making me sound like a cow. So odd. Ben reminded me to focus on pushing and to be quiet. I remember telling him i loved him over and over. The midwife sat back and let me get on with it. I remember just looking at everyone just sitting there whilst I strained. It honestly felt like I was throwing up but the wrong way! The midwife had to put her hand inside me to unwrap the cord from around Baby T's neck. The head was out. I could feel Baby T kicking me on the way out. I shouted at the midwife to stop, it felt like she had her hands up inside me, pulling baby out! The midwife laughed at me as she was sat down away from me. It was all baby! The pain wasn't THAT bad. I was so excited to finally meet my baby T.
Then she was out. My mum shouted that it was a girl. Not once did I think about the gender of my baby whilst I was in labour and even once I'd been told, it didn't really hit me in any way! She was given to me straight away for skin to skin. Her skin felt wet and rubbery and she didn't cry.
I kept saying "is it OK? !" All pregnancy I'd refused to use the word "it" when referring to my baby but once I'd been told she was a girl, I was calling her it!
I couldn't believe she was finally here, it felt sureal.
It's funny, after I gave birth, I felt even less aware of time periods and order of things. I don't know how much time had passed but my placenta was still not out. They asked if they could give me the injection to speed things along. In my birth notes, I'd said no to it. When they asked me after birth, they seemed concerned so I just said yes.
The placenta still wasn't budging after the injection. The midwife pushed on my tummy and pulled on the cord to try and get it out. That was pretty horrible. I was worried I was going to haemorrhage. They ended up putting a catheter in to empty my bladder and eventually the placenta came out.
Next thing I know, a pleasant ginger man comes in to sew me up as I'd torn. That was weird. The initial injection to numb me was sharp but then I could see him sewing away down there and it was a little unpleasant but weird more than anything haha. I apologised to him that he was doing this so early in the morning before his breakfast.
I was then brought in tea and toast. Didn't really fancy it. Next came the offering of a tepid bath. That was great. Limply dabbing myself with a flannel whilst naked and saggy in front of a midwife.
Once I was transferred to the ward where you're put with other new mums before you come home, I felt immediately desperate to go home. It was hot and there were lots of screaming babies. Bar mine.
I was told if I weed 250ml into a pot, I could go home. I waited for the prime opportunity to go. I managed 500ml and proudly emerged from the bathroom clasping my cardboard pot of wee, shaking.
The midwife told me to leave it in the bathroom but I was worried some desperate mother was going to steal my wee like a get out of jail free card.
I was then told I could go home that day after establishing two more feeds. It was 11am. By 5pm she still hadn't fed. She'd been sleeping all day. It was so hot. I cried. I needed to go home. I felt like I couldn't feed her in that environment. Luckily, after a few midwives tried to pursuade me to stay; they let me go home.
Best thing I did. Within half an hour, Brontë fed.
I'll write another post on breast feeding, early days and emotions soon.
This post is ridiculously long and for that I apologise !
To conclude, I genuinely loved giving birth and I would do it again tomorrow. The feeling I got was absolutely unexplainable and I never want to forget it. If you're yet to give birth, I hope my story will give you some comfort. It wasn't easy but having your baby in your arms is the best feeling you'll ever experience and I felt so empowered giving birth. I feel like a woman now and I'm so proud of my body.








