My beautiful boy has been on this planet for 11 weeks and 1 day. I honestly can’t believe how quick the time has gone. I have gone from never, ever wanting kids to not knowing where I’d be without Joseph. I wouldn’t change a thing now that he’s here. He is so perfect and I have so much love for him already.I can’t wait to watch him grow up (although, VERY emotional mama at the thought of him not being a little baby for much longer) and I am excited to be a part of his life forever.
On the 26th July 2016 at 13:48pm, Joseph entered the world. Weighing at a nice chunky 9lb 8.5oz, I couldn’t stop staring at him and wonder how perfect he was. I’m quite sad that I couldn’t get a picture of him via skin-to-skin when he was just born as I didn’t get to see him till 4 hours later. But I’m just thankful that he’s here and that’s all that matters.
Okay. Birth story. Everything seems like a blur thinking back now-and it’s not that long ago when you really put things into perspective. But alas, things are blurry as it was such a long, long process.
Joseph was an overdue baby, by one week. Now, in July where the sun is blazing down on you-you just want to collapse in a heap and sob all the time. I was SO fed up of being pregnant and seeing me go past my due date was so devastating. Anyway, third day of being over-due I couldn’t feel Joseph moving as often as I was used to. So up to the hospital we went to get monitored. Long story short-I ended up getting monitored like 1345679302 times. Movements were fine, I obviously just couldn’t feel them as well. Although they couldn’t find a baseline for his heart rate hence why I needed to go in so much to get monitored. The last day I was monitored I still wasn’t happy with Josephs reduced movements–even-though the monitor was showing movements I still wasn’t settling. The midwife was happy to send me home and carry on with my three scheduled sweeps that I had in the week. I pleaded with her that I wasn’t happy so they brought the doctor down who gave me a sweep and turns out I was already 1cm dilated-huzzah! She also booked me in for a scan just to check that things were OK. So off I went for a scan and turns out Joseph was estimated to be a 10 pound 10oz baby!!! The midwife again was saying how it’s just an estimate and it can be way off. I didn’t want to take any chances with that, with the reduced movements and a estimated big baby (Mathew weighed 9lb 8oz born-same as Joseph) so I knew that this estimation could well be right. So, I asked for doctors second opinion to which my induction was brought forward (praise the lord!). I didn’t want an induction, but I also didn’t want to wait 2 sodding weeks over my due date to have one when I was going out of my mind with worry that I couldn’t feel him move AND the fact he was measuring so big. Nuh-uh.
So, I came in for my induction on the 24th I believe? By now, I was so sick of hospitals. So sick of being pregnant, so sick of being monitored. All I wanted was my baby here. My induction was postponed because I wasn’t high priority and they had no beds on the labour ward. Great, I thought. So I had to stay in the hospital overnight, which wasn’t pleasant at all. A woman opposite me had been induced and was in a hell of a lot of pain. She thought she was in labour and was only 2cm dilated. She screamed the place down, this was at like 11pm-3am. She vomited everywhere. So I got nada sleep. Headphones didn’t work. So I spent a lot of time just walking up and down the ward. Praying that Joseph would make an appearance and that I wouldn’t be induced if it meant I’d be like that lady. 25th July: induction date. Or it was meant to be. It got postponed, again. SIGH. I had no signs of the baby coming so by now you could imagine that I was at wits end. But I had a lot of patience and waited. Then suddenly I started having contractions by myself and by 4pm I was transferred to the labour ward yippee!!
When I was pregnant I always feared giving birth to my son via the vagina and always said if I could choose to have a c-section I definitely would. I think it was the pain I was afraid of, or the complications that would come with it afterwards (weak bladder, tearing, etc) and I don’t know why, but somehow had the idea in my head that a c-section would be painless and much easier.
WRONG! Naive and wrong.
A part of me was excited to have a c section because this is what I had wanted, but a part of me felt some what defeated as I had waited all this time for nothing–no pushing or feeling that I had actually done this myself (minus pain relief). Overall though I was just really excited that I was finally going to meet my son. So off I went to the theatre room where they set everything up. By now I was so weak, so tired that I couldn’t keep my eyes open and kept falling asleep whilst they prodded away at me. My body had swelled to the point they couldn’t get a good vein so again, more prodding. The amount of times I was told how patient I was, how great I was doing and how I had a high pain threshold made me feel great! Anyway, they administered a higher dose of top up of the Epidural to the point I couldn’t even lift my legs up anymore. They did the freeze test (to ensure I couldn’t feel the cold on my stomach) but I could feel it in parts, so they decided to administer a spinal tap. So again, I was moved around and having to curl up in a fatal position so the injection could go into my spine was so hard considering I couldn’t even move my legs properly. They did the freeze test again and even though it was better than the initial test, it still didn’t feel right and I did a mini panic inside. But considering it was a lot better, the surgery went ahead. And to my surprise, my gut instinct was right. When the first incision was made I could feel it. Now, I couldn’t feel the true extent otherwise I think I may have been doubled up in pain. But it was enough to scare the shit out of me. It felt like a knitting needle was going across my stomach. So I immediately like said to Mathew ‘I can feel it, I can feel it’. So they stopped and all looked very worried.
The only option next was to put me under general anaesthesia. I had to drink this blood tasting liquid and was breathing in this mask. I don’t remember passing out at all. When I woke up, four hours later. I was in a hospital ward. No baby beside me, no boyfriend, nothing. Just woke up confused and then the pain hit me like a tonne of bricks. I was then put on morphine which helped, but I didn’t feel good on it at all (I eventually stopped that and relied on other forms of pain relief). I didn’t get to see my baby until four hours later. My boyfriend didn’t see our baby until two hours later. There were complications as he took a while trying to get out of my stomach (15 minutes I believe, it’s meant to take an average of 5 or so minutes), so because Joseph was exposed to the GA for so long, he had trouble breathing so had to be resuscitated (makes me so sad). Thankfully, there wasn’t any respiratory conditions that made him this way and it was just down to the GA.
And I feel so upset sometimes because looking back I would never want a c section again. I didn’t get to hold or see my baby, I didn’t get to see him take his first breath into the world, hear his first cry or be the first one to cuddle him tight. Instead it was four hours later, first saw him via a picture on Mathews phone as he had yet to be discharged from the neo natal ward. Even when I did get to hold him I couldn’t hold him properly because of my scar. I couldn’t pick him up and walk around to calm him down when he cried because of my scar. Yes, things would have been different if I wasn’t put under but I still would rather just give birth naturally so I could cherish those first moments with my boy. But the moment I saw him I instantly fell in love with him. All the pain I experienced I had forgotten. My exhaustion forgotten and I spent the best part of the night just staring at him sleep. My birth story isn’t so nice and wonderful but he’s here, he’s safe, hes beautiful and that’s all I could ever wish for.
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