Paul's Birth Story

Skin-to-skin during the "golden hour"

Settled in postpartum ward for the night, after my lovely shower

At my 40 week midwife appointment, I was actually 39+6 days, so the midwife couldn't do a stretch & sweep (if anything had gone wrong, she would have been in trouble for doing it before 40 weeks). I was a little disappointed, but totally ok--I kept trying all of the other "natural induction" things, like walking, spicy food, evening primrose oil, raspberry leaf tea, etc. Nothing worked, just like last time when I went over with George. I really wanted to avoid going over again--those 10 days were the longest 10 days of my life, and I didn't want a repeat of that. Initially I was optimistic. Everyone says that second (and further) babies come faster, and all pregnancies & labours are different, so I assumed it would happen that week. By the time I had the next midwife visit at 40+6, I was keen to have the stretch & sweep.

I'd been having some mild contractions since Sunday, and in the evening after the stretch & sweep I had a few good hours of contractions (5-7 min apart, very promising). Richard started his paternity leave the next morning, because I needed help with the school run and I really thought things were happening, and we went walking that morning to try to get things moving along. We went to MAC to get checked out in the afternoon and my friend Carly picked George up from school for us. Despite all the contractions (lasting 1 min, 4-5 min apart), I was only dilated 2cm and wasn't effaced, which was disappointing. They found a mistake in my medical records, though--the due date on the growth chart was wrong (based on LMP instead of the 12 week scan), which shifted the growth pattern into a more normal range (it had been huge, and I just assumed that's because Paul would be big like George was). They noticed that his growth had dropped off between the 40 & 41 week visits, which concerned them. They did a scan to confirm that he was ok, and they moved my induction appointment up from Monday to Friday, the next morning. We picked up George from Carly's place and gave her a heads up about the induction appointment (she'd have to pick him up from school the next day, too). 

On the Friday, Richard dropped George off at school and we went back to MAC for my appointment. We got there early and were the first patients of the day in our ward, so I hoped somebody would come in, break my waters and I'd have the baby by lunchtime.

That's not how it works. Since an induction like mine (low risk pregnancy, not urgent) is considered low priority, and the maternity ward was busy that week, nothing happened. I was stuck in the antenatal ward all day on Friday and Saturday, being monitored every 6 hours. Nobody could give me any idea of when I would be taken to delivery for the induction, but apparently there weren't enough midwives available. They (quite rightly) prioritised women who were in active labour.

On Saturday evening, after 2 days of non-progressing but painful contractions and 2 nights of lousy sleep, I asked if I could go home. Since I was technically there for an induction, they had to get approval from a doctor, but they did let me leave. It was just like last time with George--I hoped that I would give up and go home and then come right back, in active labour, 9cm and water broken!

I tried to recreate what had happened last time. We went to the flat initially, so that I wouldn't be too far from the hospital in case anything happened. I took a bath, but nothing. Contractions stayed 5-7 min apart and I had to breathe through them, but my water didn't break. We gave up and went home, and I stayed curled up on the couch in the dark, trying to rest between contractions. They stayed close together and seemed to get more intense as the night went on, and finally I called it and decided we'd have to go in again. We dropped a sleeping George off at Carly's place--I had a contraction right when she was getting him out of the car, and I remember telling her "This sucks so much." Accurate glimpse of active labour for her, as she's expecting her first in July!

When we got to MAC, the midwife was surprised that I was dilated to 5cm, because I didn't "seem" like I was in active labour--I was coping too well to be that far along. I laughed and said I definitely felt like I was in active labour, and Richard told them I was "very stoic." After so much waiting around MAC & the antenatal ward over the past 3 days, I was thrilled to finally move on to the delivery ward. I opted to walk, instead of using a wheelchair, because the midwife said it could help labour progress. Likewise, when we got to the room, I stayed on my feet and didn't get into the bed until they broke my waters. 

In the delivery room, I got my midwife, Emily, and a student midwife, Georgia. Emily's name tag said she was a homebirth midwife, and she was great--very supportive and encouraging, and really knew her stuff. She gave me a TENS unit for my back labour, and it was weird but it actually did help. Georgia was lovely, too, and it was actually really nice to have a student in the room, because it meant that there was more talking through various steps and procedures. When George was born, I just had one midwife and she said very little--she had a lovely calm presence, which was comforting, but it was nice to have a bit more information about how things were going this time around. Especially because it went so fast!

Not long after I got settled in the room and had been monitored for awhile, they asked if I wanted to have my waters broken or if I just wanted to wait for them to go naturally. They were ok to go ahead and do it, as I was originally scheduled for it, but they warned me that my labour would get very intense and it would speed things up. I was very keen to get on with it, so they broke my waters--and just like they said, it suddenly got very intense! I went from 7 cm when they broke my waters to delivering in less than an hour.

Last time, I must have been going through transition at home without really realizing it, because I'd arrived at the hospital basically ready to push. This time, going through it in the delivery room felt so much worse. I wasn't aware of how close I was. The midwife kept saying "You're doing so well!", but she'd been saying that the whole time. Just when I was really getting exhausted, she said "You're doing so well, you're nearly there, I can see the head." I said "Really?!" I thought it would take longer, because I'd only been at 7 cm when they broke my waters, and it hadn't been long since then.

Just like last time, the pushing was a huge relief. Everybody fears the pushing stage, but both times it has been a positive experience for me--the end is in sight, you finally get to meet your baby, you're not going to have contractions any more, etc. The pushing stage is also probably feared because of tearing/episiotomies, but I've been lucky to avoid "trauma" both times--the midwives guided me through it very slowly and used compresses to reduce the risk of tearing.

When Paul came out, they helped me get settled back on the bed with him on my chest. We had a lovely, relaxed hour or so in skin-to-skin, chatting with the midwives and getting to know Paul. We were all very impressed with his full head of hair! I was curious about his weight, as I thought he seemed less puffy than George, and expected him to be smaller. He weighed 4130g, and George weighed 4135g--they were a teaspoon apart! Both converted to 9lbs, 1 ounce, and although they don't measure length here, I measured them both to be 21 inches at home.

The postpartum stage was very different this time around--much harder, physically and emotionally. For starters, when the midwife did the uterus massage, my coffee, toast & paracetamol came right back up, all over myself and the baby. I was already a mess from childbirth, but this prompted me to go take that lovely postpartum shower. Richard stayed until I was settled in the postpartum ward, maybe 3 am or so, and came back with George the next morning. I slept fairly well that first night and actually woke up on my own before Paul (newborns often sleep the first night, and then never again...), and I felt really hungry & thirsty. At home, for the first 4 weeks or so, I had the worst headaches of my life. They'd come on suddenly and last for hours, sometimes waking me up at night. I couldn't work out if they were linked to exertion, stress, sleep deprivation, blood pressure, hormones, etc. but I tried everything. They eventually went away on their own, but they were awful.

Emotionally, things were so much harder this time around. My attention was divided now between George and Paul, and I would get overwhelmed by little things. I didn't have "baby blues" at all with George, but this time around, I had classic mood swings and crying spells. They actually went away while my mom was visiting--about a week into her visit, I noticed how much better I'd been feeling. I think having her around from day 1 with George might have been why I never experienced it that time!

The midwives were very impressed with how well Paul's birth had gone, and joked that "they'd see me back there again for number 3". I might have made it look easy, and it was generally a positive birth experience, but it's still not something I intend to do ever again! We've had two smooth pregnancies and births, with two healthy babies, so we're going to stop while we're ahead and be grateful that it's all gone well.