I title it “my first”, as hopefully I’ll have a couple more in the years to come (a while down the track!), but this is the story of Rafael’s birth. Some parts are pretty gory, but come on, it’s a birth. Can’t get around it!
It was a very quick labour so fairly intense… Friends without babies (yet), please don’t let it put you off! It was not at all scary at the time, just really hard.
Here goes:
12th October, 2011.
The day was just like any other, I was sitting around doing not much, watching a bit of tv and looking at stuff on the internet. Due date was in 2 days, but I had no expectations of when this baby was going to arrive. Around 3pm I tried to start timing what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions, because they were a bit more painful than the ones I’d been having previously, on and off for a couple of weeks.
I emailed JA:
Me
I’m going to start timing these pains, it’s kinda painful
Him
Yikes! Want me to come home?
Me
no it’s ok babe, by kinda painful I just mean a bit crampy, like it hurts but not overly so.
I think it’s cause I’m sitting too, just walked around a bit and that seemed to help
Him
okidoke
Our plumber soon arrived though, along with my mum-in-law, so I kept getting side-tracked and not timing them properly. Once JA got home we started timing again at about 6pm, and pretty soon they were quite painful and about 4 minutes apart, for about an hour. During this time I was in the shower (with no screen) and bent over a stool every time a contraction happened. We decided to ring the hospital at 7pm, and said we were a bit skeptical as it seemed to be progressing quite quickly. The midwife said she was skeptical too, and we probably were in the very beginning stages of a long long process.
Side note: I know the midwives probably come across false labours all the time, but wow. She was pretty condescending. Well it felt like it at the time, maybe because deep down I knew it was happening. She asked me how long the contractions were lasting, I said about 70 seconds. One then started while we were on the phone, and she told me to tell her when it stopped. I waited a bit then said it had stopped being so painful I couldn’t talk, but it was still happening. She sort of scoffed and said “well that was only 30 seconds!”. Bah.
I text Chloé and ask if she can bring us some food, just in case I am in labour and JA needs something to keep him going. 20 minutes later, Maccas arrives. Best. Friend. Ever.
I sat on the fitball for a while, then tried lying in bed, then decided a bath was a good idea (never mind the plumber had just told us not to use the basin or bath until the next day!). In the bath the contractions slowed to 6-8 minute intervals, but still very painful. Decided to get out of the bath and lie down again, all I wanted to do was go to the hospital so I could take some drugs… The plan was always “No drugs please unless I beg”. Well shit. Those contractions are not pleasant! Next time I would like to be somewhere where there is gas nearby to help get through them. So I lie down on the bed, and one contraction later we both heard a pop and my waters broke! Weirdest sensation, ever. I said “I don’t care what they say, we’re going to the hospital, and they’re not sending us home!” So at 9pm JA calls them again and tells them we’re coming in, my waters have broken, etc etc (he had to give them our details all over again!) and off we go.
JA drove like a champ, nice and fast =P About 7 minutes later we arrive, and my hand is cramping from holding the above window door handle thinger so tight. We jump out of the car, I grab my wallet and birth plan printout (so nicely formatted!) and we leave everything else in the car for JA to come and get after I’m safely on a hospital bed.
We get to the birthing suite and they’re not ready for us, the midwife is nice but a bit flustered, and by this time my contractions are coming hard and fast. She is going in and out of the room looking for towels and talking about paper work, while I am getting more agitated that no one has checked me yet and these contractions feel like they’re about to kick my ass.
I have about 3 more contractions (which now include screaming, more for attention than anything though) and say in the last one to JA “it feels like he’s coming out!”. The midwife finally comes back to do an internal, where she promptly says “oh my! You are ready to push in your next contraction ok?”. Yeah. She left the room and I said to JA “I knew it!”.
And we have left everything in the car. EVERYTHING. Our phones, my birthing bag, my hospital bag.. There is no time to go and get anything. I need JA to ring my mum. His mom. Tell them to come incase I need them! Slight panic and confusion for 30 seconds, then the midwife says he can use the phone in the room. He rings them and says “Well you better come to the hospital, she’s about the start pushing!”.
So my OB was called (luckily he lives close to the hospital!) and I pushed during each contraction for about the next hour or so. One thing I didn’t expect during this part was to feel so nauseated, and somewhere along the line I had a big vomit into a bag my poor, awesome husband held for me. Gross.
Cute:
I knew it was too late for any drugs now (my “birthing preferences” plan was pretty much go with the flow but preferably drug free) so I just had to knuckle down and do it. And fuck it hurt. Bubs heart rate was getting a bit erratic so OB said he wanted to use the vacuum and I said go for it, just get him out safely. He gave me several local anesthetics but lawdy lawd the suction cap being put in and on his head was torture. Then I had to give 3 massive pushes in the next contraction to get his head out with OB’s help. I felt like my head was going to explode, I had no oxygen left… But I did it! OB did an episiotomy (I said “yes do it, get him out!”), but then bub’s big fat head tore me further anyway. I felt relief once his head was out, but then the next contraction I had to do it all over again to get his body out. I have to say after a rocky start the midwife was a very good coach, telling me what to do and when.
And JA was just so integral to me being able to do anything. At one point during a contraction I noticed he was standing about a metre back from the bed, looking like he didn’t know what to do. I needed him by my side, so I told him to come over and as soon as he did I felt better. Stronger. Then he touched my head and I yelled “Don’t Touch!” haha.
10.45pm my chubba bubba was born at 4.29kg (I don’t think his size made it more painful though, the stretching was much less intense than the actual contractions). They then chucked him on my chest and my first words were “HOLY SHIT!” haha, there’s a baby on my chest! JA cut the cord (which he wasn’t sure he wanted to do because, EW. But it was fine), and the midwife asked if I wanted to look at the placenta. Double EW. No thank you! He fed for about 1.5 hours while my OB stitched me up (which was long and horrible and hurts like a bitch).
And then all of a sudden I am a muma =P
So depending on when you start counting active labour, it was between 4 and 7 hours. Very intense at the end. I was just so incredibly knackered that all I wanted to do was sleep. They eventually took me up to our room which was a shared room (because the private rooms were all packed out), but luckily there was no one in the other bed. But that didn’t stop them from telling JA he had to sleep on the floor, poor guy =( We stayed in the hospital 5 nights (the last 2 in the private room with double bed) and I’m so glad we did. We didn’t have to worry about food, people could only visit at certain times, and the midwives were amazing. Breastfeeding is hard. Every time I had to feed him, I called them and asked for help, and I credit that for the fact I haven’t had any problems feeding him for the last 3 months.
And that’s my story!
All in all I’d say yay to the fact my birth preferences ended up being followed, even though no one even looked at the sheet of paper once we were in the room (no time!). But it really wasn’t by choice. Next time I want to be at the hospital sooner. Next time I want the option to have the drugs. But that being said, now that it’s a memory, I think to myself “Well I did it once, surely I can do it again!”. Crazy hormones talking there.
