And that's as far as I ever got. Two weeks over due. Induced. I'd read my books. I'd got to 3cm without it hurting. I KNEW first baby was 1cm an hour, it said so in the books. I was going to BREEEEZE through this labour.
It didn't say in the books you might not ever get past 3cm. Every time I was checked....3cm.
I'd pestered the midwives to bring Mr Radiostar in from 6am! I was eager to have this baby. It had been due to arrive on June 3rd. I got up June 3rd - nothing happened. I imagined Braxton Hicks ( I might even been guilty of pretending to dearly beloved family I was having them) I wasn't!! I wouldn't know a Braxton Hick if it jumped up and bit me on my arse! I was also the size of a small bungalow. I promise I will find the picture that proves this! ) So all those people who were asking me, knew full bloody well that I
"hadn't had that baby yet." ( Some people are so TAPS) ( DON'T THEY REALISE THAT ON THE 3RD JUNE I'D DUTIFULLY TURNED UP AT THE HOSPITAL FOR MY APPT AND BEEN TOLD TO COME BACK IN TWO WEEKS IF NOTHING HAPPENED???????????? EVERY SINGLE WOMAN I SAW ON MY WAY HOME HAD A NEWBORN BABY IN A PRAM YET MINE WAS STILL ON BOARD!) TWO WEEKS - it was like being told to come back at Christmas. I was hormonal and emotional. They asked me if my fingers and toes had been swelling. I lied and said they had. They were too good at their jobs. They recognised a liar when they saw one!!! They still sent me away!
Ok Ok 17 years on and I am still touchy about this.
So in the interim two weeks I went every where and everywhere. I spent a MASSIVE amount of time in Marks & Spencers ( I even jumped up and down behind the lingerie section) because I'd heard that if your waters break in there you get loads of gifts!
I went further afield. I went with my cousin and an aunt to a shopping centre out of town 30 miles away. We went for a cup of tea. I couldn't fit in the tables/fized chairs combos so had to have a chair brought from the kitchens for me. Even the shame and embarrassment of that did not bring on labour.
So there we were, Mr R was eventually allowed on the ward about 10am. I had my ( how can I put this prudishly) induction medication introduced into my system.
Then we waited.
Christ it was boring!. I sat and did puzzle books. I had a bit of back ache but thought it was from sitting cross legged on the bed. Hourly obs - 3 cm. They sent us for a walk...but NOT off the ward. 100 million laps later ....3cm.
Then just after 12 noon ( I could see the Town Hall Clock from my room) my back REALLY started hurting. Mr R was rubbing and rubbing my lower back. He rubbed soo hard on my brand new M&S dressing gown his hands went all shiny and he was complaining he couldn't do it any more.
DO. IT. was hissed to him through clenched teeth. Two hours of this and contractions every 5 minutes now ( Thanks Town Hall Clock) .....3cm.
I was told to have a bath, I paddied, I stropped, I didn't want a bath. Struggled on with pacing the corridors ( we weren't allowed to do stair walking sideways- it hadn't been invented yet!)
Back was hurting so I gave in and had a bath - the bath was wonderful, deep and warm and nice. I was in there for 2 hours. They were knocking in the door wanting me out to check me. I wouldn't get out! They opened the door and TOLD me to get out! How rude...I had no clothes on!!! Get OUT!!!
I'd seen it on the telly, it satisfied my prudish ways. Women give birth fully clothed complete with knickers and tights on.
Men, if you are squeamish, look away now and don't read this next paragraph.
I got out of the bath like a bull elephant rising from the river. I spotted the blood...that was it, I was dying. I got dressed. ( I was going to die fully clothed thank you very much) I took the blood soaked towel, held aloft like a trophy and wobbled up the corridor to the nurses station. Walking the three miles up the corridor passed all the visiting dads and nurses bringing the meal trolley to the nurses station, I was crying and kept stopping because my back kept hurting. ( Why I hadn't, like a NORMAL person, rang the bell from the bathroom, or just retired to my room and call for a nurse I don't know! I do know, the nurses were busy and I didn't want them rolling their eyes and saying OFFS when I rang my bell) I wasn't thinking. I was HURTING. CONTRACTIONS REALLY DO FUCKING HURT! But I was like my sister was. quiet. didn't scream or moan. I cried quietly a little bit.
I'm just wondering now should I have called this post " How a Victorianised Prude gives birth
When she was having her second baby mutely she heard the midwives whispering outside her door wondering if she was a Scientologist. They didn't whisper that about me, because it hadn't been invented yet.
The midwife gently guided me back to my room saying I'd had a "show."
OH NO I HAVE NOT LADY I was thinking grimly to myself.
I have READ my books thank you very much.
A show, FYI, nurse lady, is a small plug of jelly like mucus. NOT THE SCENE FROM A HORROR FILM THAT I JUST PARADED UP THE CORRIDOR FOR THE WORLD AND HIS WIFE T|O SEE!!
Anyway, I was examined....and yep......3cm
But now the contractions were coming thick and fast and I could hardly get my breath plus I was getting tired. Remember, I had been admitted at 8pm the previous evening, examined and been found to be 3cm already, was told to get a good night's sleep by the smiley lady. A good night's sleep? No way - I was 3 cm, it hadn't hurt, a cm an hour , I was going to be having a baby in 7 hours, I was WAY too excited and giddy.
They conceded and took me down to the labour ward as I needed help with these pains. Clearly they weren't contractions because clearly I wasn't CONTRACTING!!!!! ( That's what I was rationally thinking.)
SOOOO , the last time I was examined, more midwives were in and mutterings were goin on at the end of the bed. I was given a Meptid shot. It didn't work. I felt like I was off my face and drunk as a skunk but I felt every single contraction. I wanted an epidural - I couldn't have one till my waters broke...so they broke my waters..... the rest is very blurry and MR R, bless him tries his best to tell me the story. I remember leaning over to have epidural. Then it was magic. The pain stopped.
Feel that? asked a midwife as the contraction belt reading scored off the scale on the paper. Feel what I smiled? So now I was tripping away high on Meptid having a lovely time. Then more Docs came in, worried glances at papers, mutterings at end of bed. I think I signed something. They tipped me back and was pricking me with a pin but I could feel it, the epidural was wearing off and they needed to get my baby out. It was in distress. Mr R had gowned up but was then told he couldn't come in as I was whisked away for an emergency C Section.
9.54pm I had a baby girl. 9lbs 7oz of gorgeous babygirl. She had a cut on her eyebrow. When they opened me up, she was staring up at them. She wasn't going anywhere. I was 3cm. I was 5ft nothing with size 4 feet. I was the size of a small bungalow yet they said she wasn't a big baby!!!! They were WRONG!
We'd bought tiny newborn clothes. No way was she going to fit in them!
She was back to back, hence my back pain and long labour, also she was too big to fit through anywhere! Everytime she'd been squeezed down, she bumped against my cervix and bounced back up - she'd been doing this for about 24 hours !
I hate that my earliest memories are so hazy. I love that she was so perfect and hate that it was 17 years ago today! My daughter is smart, clever, beautiful and amazing and I would do it all again tomorrow!