Right from the beginning – well, the first obstetrician appointment anyway – I knew that I was going to be induced at week 39 if I didn’t go into labour before. My age was the main factor for this – older mothers can experience a degradation in the placenta towards the end of pregnancy which, if not caught, will mean that the baby will no longer be receiving nutrients from the mother. This is a scary thing and probably the only thing that I was really paranoid about. It’s why they tell pregnant women count the baby’s movement and that there’s no such thing as too paranoid about whether you think the baby is moving or not. (If you are pregnant and you are wondering, just give your midwife a call. This is one of those things that waiting until tomorrow or Monday isn’t going to sort out.)
I worked right up to the end. As I wasn’t going to be taking Jim home with me, I didn’t see the point in burning through my leave just to sit at home and worry about Jim and birthing and all the things that work could distract me from.
I was scheduled for induction on the 29th of August. Orders were to present at the hospital labour and delivery ward at 7:30 AM and they would check me in and get us started.
A week before, on the Sunday, I was sure I was going to start labour on my own. That evening and all night I kept having Braxton Hicks contractions. It was uncomfortable and I barely slept all night. Just as I’d drift off, they’d start again. I knew it wasn’t real labour because I’d roll over or shift position and the contractions would stop. They did eventually stop, though, and then they didn’t come back. So, I worked that last week making jokes about my waters breaking on the new carpet.
I spent the day before repacking my bag and overthinking everything. I slept better than I expected to and woke up Tuesday morning to shower and get ready to go. I posted a 39 weeks photo to Instagram and Megan and I waited to be picked up by the dads.
39 weeks pregnant and ready to head to the hospital
We found a park, headed in and checked in with the staff. They took us to a lovely room – as lovely as a sterile hospital room can be anyway. There was a bath in the corner should we want that, and there was plenty of room for all of us to relax. It could have used more comfortable chairs but we did alright.
My amazing medical team arrived featuring my midwife Katie and my obstetrician Jay. I was put on the monitor so they could take some readings of Jim before we started and then they checked to see where I was in terms of dilation. The answer: 0cm. I was not dilated. At all. OK, so starting from zero – can only go up, right? So, the first application of prostaglandin gel was given. What’s that? It’s a hormone gel that’s used to soften and open the cervix. The obstetrician warned that given I was not dilated at all, it was likely that we’d need to do another application and would likely be there overnight. Oh well, I thought. No point stressing about it. The midwife let me know that I might feel something like cramping in a few hours – or I might not. They recommended we go for a wander, get a coffee and meet back in the room at 12:30 to check to see how the gel was doing.
I put my leggings back on and off we went into Newtown to get coffee and a muffin and relax. We were all a bit keyed up, and ready for things (I assume we all were … I certainly was). While we were waiting for our coffee, I thought I was starting to feel a few twinges. Were those what Katie was talking about? Maybe? By the time we were heading back to the hospital, I was pretty sure I was feeling contractions. They weren’t particularly strong yet and they weren’t consistent in frequency but they definitely felt different from the Braxton Hicks of the week before. No amount of rubbing my belly or movement made them stop. It appeared we were on our way!
We headed back to the hospital and Cipri brought out the treats he’d purchased the day before. I had requested chocolate eclairs from Louis Sargeant (my fave). We had a wee snack while we waited for the return of our medical team. I wandered around a bit as the contractions were starting to feel stronger and a little more regular.
Katie arrived at 12 and hooked me up to the fetal monitor. We could see when the contractions were happening. It was cool to share that with Megan and Cipri and Nick. We all watched as the blips appeared and then disappeared. Jay (my OB) arrived at 12:30 and they had a look. I was 4cm! Everything was definitely a go. Next up, she broke my water (with what looks like a giant crochet hook) and then asked me if I wanted the epidural before they started me on the syntocinon drip or if I wanted to try without first and see how I go. I thought about it for a few minutes and then decided that with the contractions I had already felt, I was probably ok with not really feeling any more. The advice of so many women to “Take the Drugs” echoed in my ears.
The call was put out to the anaesthetist and we waited for them to arrive. In the meantime, we watched my contractions on the monitor and continued to make inappropriate jokes while waiting. I got one more chance to go to the bathroom on my own before they put in the epidural and the catheter.
A woman’s body is an amazing thing. A woman’s body in labour is a remarkable study in the forces of nature. The forces of a contraction are not something that you’re necessarily prepared for. As chance would have it, when I was about to get off of the bed, a contraction started. Picture if you will, a water bottle with a small hole in it. Just laying there, it will leak a little but if you squeeze the bottle really hard, it will gush out. This is what happened as I got out of bed. Sigh. One thing that being pregnant and in labour taught me was that bodies are gross sometimes and there’s nothing you can do about it so let it go. My wonderful support crew lept into action while I was in the bathroom and cleaned up the mess on the floor and changed the sheets on the bed so that I had a nice dry bed to crawl back into.
The wonderful lady with the drugs arrived and everyone skittered over to the other side of the room so as not to see her thread a line into my spinal column. I can’t say I blame them. I sat on the side of the bed with my feet on a chair pulled up to the side. From there, I hunched over to curve my spine. There was a bit of local anaesthetic and then in they went. It was a pinch and felt a little weird but I think the psychological discomfort was way worse than the physical. They taped the tube up my back and then attached the delicious drug cocktail and handed me the self-release button. I could have a fresh dose of meds as needed but no more frequently than every 10 minutes. The trick is to find the balance where you don’t really feel it. I didn’t think I needed more frequently than 10 mins (certainly not in the early stages). You still feel the pressure, but the pain part is gone so you can still rest. The cool thing was feeling the cool medicine run along the line over my shoulder when I pushed the button.
Next up was to turn on the syntocinon which encouraged my labour to continue. We spent the rest of the afternoon watching my contractions get closer together, listening to music, and continuing the inappropriate humour that I love so much. If you’re reading this and pregnant, make sure you have someone who makes you laugh with you. They’ll be a life saver for you. If you are reading this and you’re a support person, they aren’t kidding when they say laughter is the best medicine. It helps to pass the time and makes the atmosphere stress free (provided that’s something your pregnant person enjoys).
At about 5, the OB was back to check on how I was progressing. A quick look at my business showed I was 8 cm dilated and so the baby should be coming in the next couple of hours. She wasn’t quite in the right position though, so they got me to roll onto my side to try to get her to slide into the right spot. At this point, I was starting to get a little tired and I was paying less attention to what was going on around me. I think that hearing the baby would come in the next couple of hours made it all the more real to me (as if it wasn’t real already). The contractions were definitely coming closer together and keeping up with the drugs was becoming important to me. Mmmmm drugs. I spent the next couple of hours mostly listening to my body and quietly thinking back to my yoga classes – concentrating on my breathing along with my mantra – I used it to measure my breaths and keep them focused. <inhale> I am one with the Force <exhale> and the Force is with me. Why yes, I am a nerd. Why do you ask?
Over this time the midwife was in the room for most of it. At 7, Jay came back to check on me again. Back to my business they went to see if I had progressed. Less than ideal news. I was still at 8 cm and Jim was still not in the right position. There was signs of swelling and it was unlikely that I was going to progress any further. Emergency c-section it would be. At this point the mood in the room changed. Where before we were in waiting mode, now it was down to business (not that everyone wasn’t professional before but the joking was now mostly gone). It was time to remove jewellery and prep for the operating theatre.
Funny story, I had a piercing in a more sensitive lady area. I’d had it about 8 years and it hadn’t ever been removed. When we were waiting for the epidural, Katie leaned over and asked me if Jay had talked to me about the piercing and if it would be ok to remove it if I did have a c-section. Of course it would, but I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to remove. Turns out, not so easy. After each of them gave it a go (with apologies for tugging around down there followed by “Oh, you can’t feel it anyway”). Without any success, Jay went to get something they could use to grip the ball at the end of the bar better. Just as she came back, Katie managed to get the ball to come off. As they started to cheer, one of them said “Oh no! Don’t go in there! Come back!” Yes, the ball had fallen off and I was 8cm dilated so I’ll let your imagination take you to where that might have been. Fortunately, it didn’t go far and was quickly retrieved.
Now that we were waiting for the theatre to be prepped and there was nothing else I could concentrate on, I started to get nervous and started to feel a little nauseous. Keeping to chanting my mantra was much harder as I thought about the fact I was about to go into surgery … where I would be awake … and hear stuff … and maybe see stuff … and … deep breath.
Fortunately, the hospital was allowing both dads into the theatre with me so they didn’t have to flip a coin to decide. Sainted Megan who was a steady rock for me to this point was off to the family waiting room where a service dog was having a snooze and gave her cuddles – lucky! In we wheeled and the team went to work moving me onto the bed and getting me hooked up to the even better drugs. Soon after, I went from numb just from my navel to the top of my thighs to being numb from the bottom of my boobs down. I quietly let the midwife know that I was feeling nauseous and she and the anaesthetist helped to settle me. He gave me detailed accounts of what was going on the whole time which really helped to calm me down. I was still a little nauseous but my focus was coming back. The dads were tucked at my left shoulder out of the way of the crew and my obstetrician went to work. At about 7:50, Katie the MW grabbed one of the dad’s phones and took photos of Jim being lifted from my abdomen. And then there she was. She was beautiful. Suddenly everything was worth it and it was incredible. I am sure I shed some tears but who knows. The nausea was gone. They whisked her over for the quick checks and then brought her back to me for first cuddle. They put her on my chest and I touched her soft skin and looked into her eyes. It was the best moment I think I will ever experience in my life. I made that. This creature had lived under my heart for the last 37ish weeks and every discomfort, every time I peed myself a little, every time her tiny feet kicked my ribs, it was all worth it. Kind of like the Grinch, I think my cold dead heart grew three sizes that day. I then handed her off to her dads so that they could cuddle and welcome their beautiful daughter to the world.
After that, it gets quite boring. It took longer to put me back together again than it took to get her out. There isn’t much to say about that. Once I was back together and all surgical instruments were accounted for, it was off to the recovery room. The dads had already brought Jim out while they finished getting me sorted. Someone collected Megan from her happy place with the puppy. One of the other midwives brought me an ice block and found me some ice cream (ice cream is the standard treatment for ouchies in my family). Those both went down a treat while I waited for feeling to return to my legs. Then we were wheeled to the room that would become our home for the next few days. All a bit anticlimactic, really. Megan and Nick went home shortly after and Cipri stayed with Jim and I for the night.
And then it was time to sleep. I had done it. I had brought a sweet life into the world and it was good.
Hearts for eyes over Iris AKA Jim AKA #sciencebaby