Lengthy labour

Chloe was due on July 27th but I was convinced she'd be late.  However, on the evening of the 23rd I started feeling uncomfortable Braxton-hicks contractions all through the night and into the Saturday morning.  I'd had Braxton-hicks since the start of my second trimester but they had never been uncomfortable before.  Nothing really progressed at all and by mid morning they had more or less stopped so I convinced myself it was just "false labour" and took myself off to my massage appointment.  I had a lovely osteopathic pregnancy massage which I felt I really needed at that point after all the stress my 9 month pregnant body had been under with moving flat and all the re-decorating we'd been doing in the new one.  

That evening the contractions started up again, and now they were getting gradually more uncomfortable.  Alex was very excited but I was still trying not to get too excited cause I wasn't convinced it was true labour and I was also a little bit nervous about what was to come!  I tried to get some sleep but as I got more and more uncomfortable it was just easier to be up and walking round so I left Alex in bed and spent the night pacing around the living room and watching episode after episode of Bear Grylls "surviving" in various parts of the world.  I chatted to Kate on the phone who insisted I call Mom despite it being about 4am, so I called her too.  By early morning I'd called the hospital and the midwife told me to wait til the contractions were regular and 3 minutes apart, at that point they would consider it "established labour".  I'd been having them 5-10 minutes apart and that felt established enough to me!  I waited it out but by about 6am I was feeling pretty painful and though they weren't always coming every 3 minutes,  they often were and I wanted to get to the hospital before they got any quicker.  The drive in was less than fun, contractions really suck when you are stuck in one position and can't get up to move around.  Luckily we live about 10mins from the hospital so I didn't have to endure it for too long.

At the hospital I was examined and found to be only 3cm dilated and not yet fully effaced.  They don't admit you into the labour ward until you are 5cm so I had a ways to go yet.  It was disappointing news considering I felt I'd been in labour for about 7 hours and as far as they were concerned I wasn't even strictly speaking in labour at all yet!  I did get some pain relief (hello paracetamol and dihydrocodeine!) and the day was spent basically walking around the hospital trying to get the contractions to progress, interspersed with sitting around in a triage room bouncing manically on an exercise ball during contractions and waiting to be examined.  Despite my initial belief that Mom (who was driving up from London) wouldn't make it in time for the birth, I was proved wrong.  She arrived about 2pm and I wasn't much further along at all.  By 6pm I was still only 3cm dilated though somewhat more effaced so they told me to go home for a while.  I was getting more and more frustrated.  I'd been contracting painfully for almost 24hrs, had been awake for 36hours and still had a LONG way to go.  

Being at home was a particularly low point, I was so tired and it was this more than the discomfort that was getting to me.  I was exhausted and in pain with another sleepless night ahead of me, I hadn't even gotten to the hard part of the labour yet and I couldn't see an end in sight.  Some tears were shed.  Without the benefit of any codeine I resorted to a warm bath for pain relief.  It actually worked quite well, mainly cause it slowed the contractions down.  I spent a few hours languishing in the water in the dark, occasionally being hand-fed McDonald's fries!  I managed to rest for a while but once out of the bath the contractions gradually gained in strength again and by 1:30am I was back to bouncing on an exercise ball and pacing the lounge.  I think it was about 3:30am when we decided to go back to the hospital.  Thank god I was 5cm and almost fully effaced by this point.  They offered to let me go back home or head up to the labour ward.  There was no way I wanted to go home again, I was getting very uncomfortable and wanted some gas&air.  We were taken up to a LDRP suite with a birthing pool and I got in that baby as soon as I could.  I spent the rest of the night  dozing in the water between contractions and was thoroughly prune-fingered by the time morning rolled around!  I was soon up and at 'em and walking around the hospital grounds in an attempt to get the labour going again, unfortunately though my contractions increased my cervix wasn't going anywhere fast and I was still only 5cm.  They broke my waters to speed things up but it only succeeded in stopping my contractions all together!  Time for the Oxytocin drip and I said "yes please" to an epidural.  Best decision ever!  Actually managed to sleep on/off for about 4 hours unil they checked me again, expecting to find me 9cm dilated at least.  Unfortunately my body wasn't co-operating and I was only 6-7cm.  We gave it one more hour but it just got worse with my cervix becoming oedematous so the decision was made to have a C-section.  As much as I'd wanted to avoid it there really wasn't any choice.  I think we'd probably seen every midwife at the hospital by that point, each one saying "I'm sure there will be a baby by the end of my shift" and still no baby....48hrs was quite long enough, thank you very much.  

The C-Section wasn't awful but it wasn't great either.  I had a spinal block all the way up to T1 so even my arms were slightly numb.  I couldn't feel any pushing or pulling which was great, but it really dropped my blood pressure and made me feel nauseous so I spent the Op retching and laying there with my eyes closed.  Alex, being a medical student was offered to watch the Op and I told him he could, I was beyond caring at that point.  Apparently it took longer than normal, even lying cut open on the table Chloe didn't want to come out and the obstetrician had some trouble pulling her out with her head jammed in my pelvis.  She even had to get up on a stool for greater leverage at one point!  Eventually at 20:26 on July 26th they pulled her out at 7lb 4oz, quickly thrust her at me for a quick glance, then took her away to check her over.  I admit my initial reaction to the swollen purple baby in front of me was that she looked like a boy!  Luckily when they brought her to me in recovery she looked more like a baby and less like a giant blackberry!  It was surreal that this little being was what had been wriggling around in my belly for the last 9 months.

Just a few hours old

I remember that first night, exhausted but peaceful with this amazing little baby in my arms sleeping on my chest.  She was a natural at breastfeeding and latched right on, it was surreal feeling her nursing and looking down at her contented little blotchy face.  I don't think it really sunk in that after all that time, here was my baby!

We spent the next 3 days in the hospital and Chloe was a good little baby, rarely crying, sleeping most of the time and feeding well.  Alex came to visit every day, taking her in his arms as soon as he arrived and just sitting with her for hours. It was lovely looking after her and it all seemed much easier than we expected.  Certainly easier than the baby screaming angrily in the bed opposite!  It wasn't too bad being in a 4-bed room but after spending the night next to the chav in the next bed I was definitely ready to leave on Thursday.  We almost didn't get to leave due to the inability of one of the trainee maternity care helpers to use a set of scales correctly.  She calculated Chloe had lost 13% of her body weight since birth and they only allow 10% loss before they start instigating a rigid feeding schedule and want to keep you in to monitor feeding.  I burst into tears, hormones getting the better of me.  I was almost inconsolable and it was an odd sensation.  I just wanted to be home with my baby.  I insisted they re-weigh her (which took them several hours to do) as I just couldn't believe she'd lost so much and it turned out I was right - she'd really only lost 3%!  So we got home that day after all.