Panic, pain and a realisation that this was happening. There was no going back. I knew that I had to push two babies out of me, I had no idea how I was going to do it.
After my waters broke, the nurse hooked me up to a monitor to review my contractions. I sat for what felt like days, it was actually only an hour. I was uncomfortable and grumpy.
When the nurse came back she looked at the results and said: “I think you should call your husband”.
I called him. He asked if he had time to have a shower. I asked the midwife and she said “tell him to come now”. She seemed annoyed at this suggestion. I was annoyed at this suggestion.
If I had known that he would spend the next 5 days worrying that I would die. I would have let him have that shower.
If I had known that over the next few days he would be scared to close his eyes in case something took a turn for the worse. I would have let him have that shower.
If I could go back and have a strong, harsh word with my former self. I would do so.
But I didn’t know that. He didn’t have his shower.
Over the next few hours there was pain, tiredness and all normal things related to labour. The midwife and hubby said that I hardly spoke when I had my contractions. I am disappointed by this. I had watched One Born Every Minute many times. I often assumed that I would be screaming, swearing and telling my husband off for getting me into this mess. I didn’t. I just took little breaths and said nothing. My hubby still does impressions of me to this day. He got off pretty lightly I think.
When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted a water birth. I thought it seemed calm, natural and a great way to welcome babies into this world. Having twins meant I didn’t have this option. I was high-risk and had to give birth under observation.
It was recommended that I had an epidural. This is due to the high possibility of an emergency C-section. An epidural being in place makes this process quicker. I didn’t argue.
I worried for months about it though, having a huge needle plunged into my back didn’t appeal. Actually, it wasn’t bad at all. The worst was trying to curve my back forward so they could insert the needle. I had a mahoosive bump and it was very hard to lean forward. I did it though and the epidural was put in first time. It made a huge difference to the pain.
If you have read my previous post you will know that one of the reasons I was kept in hospital was because of high blood pressure. The blood pressure caused huge problems when I was in labour. It made me anxious. My blood pressure was up and down throughout the whole day. Sky high one minute, the nurse would administer medication and then it would plunge dangerously low. They couldn’t control it. Blood pressure continued to be a problem for me over the next few days.
If someone asks me what I remember about being in labour, the first thing that springs to mind is not the pain, it is the CONSTANT playing of bagpipes outside the hospital window.
I was in a London hospital, right next to Waterloo Bridge and the London Eye. There are always plenty of street-acts here to entertain tourists, including a Piper. Which is entertaining…..unless you are in hospital. If you are already a women on the edge, in labour and not feeling at your most chirpy, then you can quickly come to HATE this sound.
I spent hours complaining about it, begging my husband and the midwives to ‘go downstairs to sort him out’. I really didn’t care what ‘sort it out’ meant. To my dissappointment they didn’t.
I have never been able to appreciate bagpipes again, which is sad. I am Scottish and it is part of my heritage.
When all this fun stuff was happening, my husband received a call to put an offer in on our small London home. We had been trying to sell it for 9 months, it is ironic that it all kicked off on the day I went into labour. A few phone calls later and we had sold our house. High five to my hubby for staying calm under immense pressure.
Early evening came. The midwife said she didn’t think it would be today. However, around 10pm, the midwife checked and realised things had moved on significantly. It was time to PUSH!
I pushed and pushed and pushed…. for 2 hours. Nothing happened. I was in a great deal of pain, even with the epidural. The room filled with people. They looked concerned; I was quickly getting used to people looking concerned around me. A consultant was called. A scanning machine was demanded.
The scan showed both boys heads were stuck in the birth canal. They were fighting to get out first – competitive with each other even at this very early age.
The Consultant explained that I needed to be taken to theatre now. They needed to assist the delivery. C-section risk was even higher at this point.
Consent forms were signed. Husband was put into scrubs. We were rushed into the theatre.
I am going to find the next few posts very hard to write. I feel panicky thinking about it.