R's amazing hospital birth - but difficult post birth experience
I found it really useful to read other people's birth stories whilst I was pregnant, so here's how R came into the world. Although it was an incredibly positive experience, there's a trigger warning - lots of talk of blood.
I woke up after a night of not-that-much sleep (4 wees) and noticed the loo roll was pink-ish when I wiped, but definitely not the thick mucus plug l'd heard about. I told Harry, but also assumed that it wasn't labour and could still be days and days.
We went out for a walk - coffee, a trip to supermarket to buy some champagne just in case (no Moet, Harry fuming), flipped the mattress, changed the sheets. My braxton hicks were getting closer together and accompanied with period style cramping. By the time we got around to putting the shelf up in the spare room (lol) I was having to pause and breathe on hands and knees when the contractions came. At about this point I realised they probably weren't braxton hicks. I went downstairs for a wee and noticed fresh blood, so decided to ring triage.
They said to come in and have the blood checked out, but that it didn't sound like labour so to park in the multistorey rather than maternity car park. I rang my mum and she said nope, this is labour, park in maternity - I'll cancel my yoga class, pick up some moet and come to York.
She was right - I was already in established labour and 4cm dilated by the time they checked. Straight to the labour ward - this was 2.30pm (I noticed I was potentially in labour at probably 11am?)
H took the mattress off the bed and onto the floor, put on the aromatherapy diffuser & playlist, & laid out the birth plan. I writhed around breathing and singing along to a mix of 70s folk, Laura Marling, Rufus Wainwright and of course @sofitukker.
After an hour or so the birthing pool room became available so we headed two doors down. I striped off and stripped off and got in the pool. Harry had a jacket potato for tea (I told him no tuna as l'd be sick from the smell). Mum arrived - a blur of hours of H pressing on my back and mum handing me gas and air.
Midwife changeover at 8pm.
All 3 midwives were incredible - completely respectful of the birth plan and basically left me to it (other than the heart rate checks I agreed to). Considering that due to the fresh blood they had initially wanted to hook me up to all sorts of machines, I was so happy with how little resistance there was to my plans. I even said I didn't want any vaginal examinations whatsoever during the birth process and this was completely fine - poor Monica the midwife had to try and see what was going on whilst I contracted with a tiny torch and a mirror haha.
Around 11ish Monica the midwife suggests getting out of the pool. I was post-transition at this point and just so uncomfortable - l'd stopped using the gas and air as it just wasn't touching the sides and I needed to take short breaths rather than long ones at that point anyways. So much downward pressure and my body pushing but nothing happening. I could feel that there was a membrane sac in front of the baby's head, and my waters hadn't gone yet - so there was a huge amount of pressure basically I was pushing against a closed plug
Then finally my waters went - I got out of the bath and found kneeling positions leaning on the side of it and just leant into the pain, and there after a few pushes was a baby. His head resting on his hand like the most chilled thing in the world had just happened. I pick him up and meet the person who has been growing inside me for the best part of a year. Wild and beautiful.
Monica the midwife is concerned about the amount of blood that comes out following R, so asks if it's ok to cut the cord and give me an injection to help speed up the placenta. In my birth plan initially l'd wanted a physiological third stage, but to be honest I didn't care at this point - my baby was here, and safe and healthy, and I was unmedicated and we'd done it - so whatever happened with the placenta happened.
The placenta just refused to come - we tried feeding, clary sage, as well as midwives and obstetricians trying to pull the cord manually (it snapped twice). After 2 hours and over a litre of blood loss, I agreed to be taken to theatre to have it manually removed under a spinal anaesthetic.
Theatre was mad
I was on a birth high and hungry and tired and delirious. They were on a 2am shift on a bank holiday Friday. Just good vibes and amazing NHS doctors and nurses taking the mick out of each other in the best way. The surgeon, even manually, just couldn't remove the placenta - he said this was the first time in his entire career that had happened - it was completely glued to the wall of the uterus.
But he called in a senior surgeon who managed to get it out (he said this is why they pay her the big bucks' - she said 'I wouldn't say big bucks to be honest!') I felt like a cow having a calf taken out.
Wheeled back into a labour room where Harry, mum and the baby (oh my god I forgot there's a baby now?) are waiting. And it's done. A night in hospital for observation after the blood loss (just under 1.5 litres) and the spinal anaesthetic, but a very healthy and strong baby and a very happy mum.
A collection of random reflections:
- We didn't know if my mum was going to get there as historically in my family we have incredibly fast births (all under 4 hours). I am so glad she did. She was amazing, as you can imagine. I am so lucky to have her as a mum. It was also such a blessing having two birth partners - meant Harry could take these photos or they could tag-team and still go for wees etc, as well as keeping each other (and the baby) company when I was in theatre.
The NHS is amazing, amazing amazing.
The postnatal ward is not.
The handover of information was a mess, I was asked frequently if my baby was 'taking the bottle' (he's breastfeeding) and told not to fall asleep with my baby next to me because 'you could roll over onto him and he could die.
It's also insanely hot in there. They told me Raphael had a 'slightly above average temperature' so they needed to monitor him every hour - but they wouldn't let me keep him in just a nappy because 'babies can't regulate their own 'babies can't regulate their own temperatures' and then when you're discharged they tell you to make sure the room he sleeps in is never above 20 degrees?
If there's a next time for me, l'm having a home birth, purely to avoid the postnatal ward.
This is no shade to the people working there - they are good people in a completely broken system.
I cannot stress enough how valuable Susan Bradley's hypnobirthing and birth prep course was @formodernmothers. It was so much more than just information about birth and breathing exercises.
Susan actively campaigned the hospital to hurry up and re open the birth pool (it was closed until 2 days before I gave birth), she gave us the brilliant idea to take the mattress off the bed so no one could force me onto it (being able to move around and not have people stick machines on me was really important to me), and gave both me and Harry the tools and words to give Raff a birth that was a genuinely magical, positive, empowering and safe experience. All 3 midwives commented on it being a wonderful birth to witness - 'how it should be but so rarely is these days' - and a huge part of that was down to Susan. Her course was hands down the best money we spent during the pregnancy.
Recovery has been easier and better than I expected despite the crazy blood loss, oh my god how does your body just suddenly not look pregnant any more? I'm aware this isn't everyone's experience, and I am lucky that my job has meant my body has been fighting fit and ready for this.
Similarly, my mental health during pregnancy was probably the worst it's been in years. I felt completely fulfilled but anxiety and stress was super high (partly my own fault for taking too much on and partly external stressors). The second I gave birth I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
The house is a mess - but I just don't care? The to do list doesn't have the chokehold it once had on me because my little boy has it instead. I'm aware it's early days, but the tears l've had so far have been tears of joy, coming back from brushing my teeth to watch Harry staring at our sleeping child, or looking at R's eyes wide awake in the middle of the night when it's just me and him and the rest of the street is sleeping. The novelty has not yet worn off, and I'm well aware how special these moments are.