We started off the morning bright and early with an argument about breakfast at 6am. The nurses were telling me that I couldn't have breakfast because I was going for a C-section. I told them that I needed to have breakfast because I was going to be induced and to have a normal labour and delivery and not a C-section. Eventually I got tea and toast - a reasonable compromise, but I hope Dean brings me some snacks for later.
I got my IV and we started the induction about 8am, starting at 15mls/hr. By midday, I was up to 100mls/hr and still not having regular contractions. People started saying that maybe it was too early, that my body wasn't ready for labour and that maybe I should start thinking about a C-section. No way did I want a section! A small baby at normal delivery is easy on the body, but you don't get any discount on the recovery time from a section. I reminded myself to just keep breathing and keep being positive and to take one thing at a time.
I discovered the hard way the need to keep my focus. Dean was great with helping me breathe through each contraction and I thought we were doing well. My mum and Dean's mum were both visiting in the delivery room, mainly talking to each other which was fine with me. (Dean's dad also came into the room - does that seem weird to anyone else?) Then I realized that Marion was telling my mum about the mess she cleaned out of our house while I was in hospital. Complete with commentary about "how could they do this" etc. This was one of the known dangers of letting her unpack for us, but from my hospital bed I didn't see any realistic alternatives. Dean realized at the same time what was going on, and tried to talk her out of her line of conversation, but Marion is nothing if not persistent. I tried not to argue with her, or make any smart comments and Dean was about to leave me and go to tell her more firmly to desist, when a contraction hit us unprepared.
The pain was very intense, and I could feel myself losing control, and Dean was talking to his mother - and then I lost my focus and melted down completely. Instead of being a marathon swimmer pacing myself across the ocean, I became tossed on the waves without bearings, without a destination and without hope. The pain and fear amplified one another and both seemed to go on without hope of escape. Dean was fantastic - he kicked everyone out of the room post-haste and returned to help me regain my focus and control. Once I was back together, the contractions were once again intense, but not unbearable. The fear-tension-pain syndrome is thus totally confirmed!
Dr Regan came back to check my progress at 5pm, and found that I was only 2cm dilated. I was disappointed - all that work for a lousy 2cm, with 8cm still to go? He wondered again about giving up the idea of a normal delivery and going for a C-section, but agreed to let me go a little longer and see what I could do. The IV was by now up to 180mls/hr, which is the theoretical maximum. If I couldn't do it on this dose, then it would have to be a section. I just kept breathing, kept focusing on doing my part - I'm young and healthy and there's no reason why my body shouldn't be able to do this. The baby was doing fine on the monitor, so there's no problem there, and no reason to stop on that account.
I should mention the monitor game: apparently if the baby's heartbeat on the monitor sounds like a horse galloping then the baby will be a girl, but if it sounds like a steam train then it will be a boy. Dean thought it sounded like a horse, as did my mother. Marion and I thought it sounded like a train. Actually, I thought it sounded like whatever you wanted it to sound like, but I had always thought we were having a boy because of my cravings for salty foods and pickles.
Anyway, at 8pm the midwife examined me again - still at 2cm! For the first time I started to worry that maybe we were not going to be able to do this after all. She rang the doctor, and he said he would come back in and see. If I wasn't able to do any better by the time he arrived at 10pm, then it really would be time to go upstairs to theatre.
I realized this was the last chance - now is the time to do it or not at all. The contractions were getting very intense by now, and I had considered asking for some pain relief, but then I realized that any kind of pain relief such as pethidine or an epidural would slow down the labour - something I was not prepared to risk at this point. So we continued with the nitrous gas and the breathing exercises. I reminded myself that this must be one of the most prayed-for babies on the world, what with the whole of CHFWeb and Solace praying for us both. If anything could do it, my world-wide prayer chain would! New Age types talk about "breathing the baby down" but this was very definitely "praying the baby down"!
At 10pm Dr Regan came back for the last examination, one way or another. By then I was at 5cm - success! I had shown sufficient progress that we would be allowed to continue to a normal delivery. Dr Regan also reassured me that the first 5cm is always harder than the second 5cm. This turned out to be true - it felt to me like about ten minutes later that I had the urge to push.
This last part is all a little blurry. There are large sections of time that I just don't remember - probably all for the best really. I don't know if this is a result of my internal focus, or the gas I was breathing. Nitrous is good stuff - I've never been a fan before, but I am now! There was also quite a bit going on around me that I didn't hear or notice. I was completely taken up with the quite indescribable sensation of the baby moving down inside me.
It felt to me like three pushes later Evie was born! I couldn't believe it all happened so quickly! she was lifted up onto my chest, and I saw for myself that she was a gorgeous little girl! Apprently after that there were some inconsequential injections, stitches for me internally, and other things which were not even noticeable beside the wonder of our little daughter. I put her to the breast immediately, and she was alert and awake and bit hard! She hurt more than the stitches! But I loved her immediately, overwhelmingly, and she is everything I had been waiting for and worth all the pain and worry it took for her to get here.
November 30th, 2007, 11:16pm Evie was born and our lives will never be the same.
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