Before you — Week 39 The Finale
An intrepid adventure into motherhood through the eyes of my childless self.
+1
I am 39 weeks + 1. Today began in anticipation. I knew that in a weeks time I would be holding our little one in my arms. It was hard to imagine what that would feel like or how I would get from being overly pregnant to morphing into a mother of a newborn baby. So much lay ahead but the moment I had been waiting for was so close… but yet felt so far away.
I was set to be induced in under a week and wanted to do all I could to encourage baby to arrive before then. But I also knew that baby would come when baby was ready to come.
This didn’t stop me from eating dates, going for walks along uneven ground, eating spicy food and exhausting a list of old wive tales about what may help push baby along.
I wasn’t sleeping well, getting up multiple times during the night, enduring a sharp pain down my left side as I slept only on one side with all my weight pushing down, with the extra 15 kilos (give or take) that my body was adjusting to.
I was glad to be finished work and I was feeling more and more prepared each and every day.
It reminded me of the times in my life when I have wanted something to happen but have needed patience, to acknowledge that what will be will be, and will happen in its own sweet time. This was a time to take a deep breathe and enjoy my final moments before my world changed around me in a way that I couldn’t imagine.
+2
I am 39 weeks + 2. Today began with acupuncture. I was only 5 days out from being induced in the hospital and I wanted to help my body along, if possible.
My mucus plug had come out that morning, a sign that the body was preparing but nothing more was happening. It was my dream to be able to go through my early labour in the house where my mother had been with me in pregnancy and my early days, and where my sister had laboured with her first.
The acupuncture was a relaxing experience, an attempt to prepare the body mentally and physically for labour, to open up any blockages or tensions. She also sent me to get an homeopathic remedy to help with natural induction. I started to take this, at the same time planning the final days before baby would arrive.
Me and Juan were thinking about the hot pools, maybe fitting in a date night at an Italian place and doing some relaxing activities that we wouldn’t be able to do for a while.
But, my body had other plans, who knows if it was the acupuncture, the homeopathy, the number of theories I was attempting, or that it was time but that afternoon something happened that was to begin my transition into motherhood.
I was driving to the Mount to pick up some gifts for a birthday party that I thought I would attend. When all of a sudden I felt a gush of liquid, it was the strangest feeling and all I could do was laugh. When you experience something you have seen portrayed in films as such a dramatic moment you begin to question yourself, maybe you are imagining it. I moved around in my seat and another flow of liquid left me.
“I think my waters have broken,” I laughed again as I told my mum.
“Should we still go to the shop or head home?” She asked.
“Let’s go to the shop, no problem.”
I thought it may be my last chance for a while.
As we headed over the bridge and I began to swim in what I could only imagine was amniotic fluid, I second guessed my decision. We looked for a towel or tissue and decided to abort our mission, it was time to go home and prepare.
There were no pains and I tried to stay relaxed and go for a walk to the end of the street on the curb as suggested by my midwife. Juan asked if we would still go the hot pools, which I didn’t think was a good idea. We walked and we ate dinner and I received a massage with mediation from my sister as pains began to increase. I took deep breathes and found it easy to move through the growing pains surging through my body. I went to bed early to prepare for whatever would become of the next few days as we brought our little one into the world.
+3
I am 33 weeks + 3. Today began with contractions. All through the night they woke me and the fluid from my waters continued flowing.
During the contractions I leant over the bed and took deep breaths. They were becoming more regular but manageable. I was looking forward to them increasing, to moving into an active labour that would be challenging but necessary to birth our boy.
But they didn’t increase in frequency or strength. By the time the sun was shinning and the day was beginning and continuing on like it always did, the contractions began to slow — move further apart. I was keeping an eye on the timing but the more I desired them to increase the more they seemed to slow.
My midwife checked in and was coming around to visit and check my progress. But as the progress was slowing she mentioned it to the doctor (she was at the hospital with a visit) — the doctor recommended that we went into the hospital to start the oxytocin/syntocinon drip for induction. I had been booked in for an induction the following Tuesday (it was now Friday) and it was going to start with other less invasive methods, I knew the drip was a step up and also possible to lead to further intervention needed.
The reason for moving to the drip was because 20 hours had passed since my waters had broken and I was not progressing into labour. I thought that it was fine for 48 hours until they began to be concerned, I’m not sure if it was because it was Friday, or the timing, or if it was normal but we decided to go into the hospital under their recommendation. This was the first of many decisions and recommendations from the doctor that we would make over the next 12 hours, with guidance from our midwife, that would lead to the birth furtherest from my plan but with the same desired outcome: a healthy happy baby.
When I first told Juan that they wanted us to go into the hospital, he responded:
“Woohoo.”
We were excited and ready to meet our little one, and this meant that we would be meeting him soon.
So we packed up the bags, with the diffusor, the water, the baby clothes and bags that had been pack for the last couple of weeks and we took off in the car, to welcome a new addition to our family.
Arriving at the hospital, I lent over the back of my seat with a strong contraction. Then I walked in relaxed and not in the state I imagined I would be arriving at the hospital.
This was my last contraction before they connected up the drip, as soon as I was in the hospital, they completely stopped. My midwife was there to check in with me and the whole time I was with her, nothing happened. Was it the environment I have gone into or was it my body not progressing as baby wasn’t as ready as my waters breaking had suggested?
Once all the needles and tests had been processed and the drip was flowing through my veins the contractions began again, and became more frequent. I was hooked up to the monitor for baby’s heart and to follow the contractions. A hospital midwife would stay with us throughout the whole time we were there. She increased the drip, watching how I reacted to the increased synthetic oxytocin that was to force me into active labour.
I started a flow of leaning on the Swiss ball, then resting back in the yoga block, again and again as they increased in strength and frequency. Juan offered water, and spoke to me throughout but I kept up the monotony of doing what was working for me. However, the contractions weren’t getting any longer, only increasing in frequency. The hospital midwife suggested moving to the bed so we re-set up the room and I got on. Once back on the bed it was hard to move around and find the right place, I had the support of Juan and the midwife to do this but I struggled to find my flow again and finally gave into the draw of the gas.
With each contraction I breathed in deep breathes and stopped when the contraction reached its peak. I was starting to feel dizzy so tried to limit how much I was taking in with each contraction.
The contractions were now coming and going more and more — but they still weren’t getting longer. Instead of long contractions I was having numerous short ones in quick concession. Not long after one would end, another would start, and again and again and again. The hospital midwife called this coupling. Nothing I was familiar with or knew anything about.
The doctor came to see me, and they didn’t seem too happy with the frequent but short contractions. Then it was time for an examination to check my progress. When I came into the hospital I was 2cm dilated and my cervix had not completely shortened. Now after being pumped with syntocinon for the last 6 hours with increasing contractions I was hoping that I had dilated but was giving myself a pessimistic outlook, maybe I have only dilated a couple of cms, that will be fine, I can do this. I told myself.
What I wasn’t prepared for, was that nothing had progressed.
And that was the reality. My waters had broken over 24 hours ago but I wasn’t in active labour and I hadn’t progressed. I was still going through contractions as they spoke to me and I tried to listen and process what was happening.
I was completely disheartened by my lack of progress.
For the examinations I had used more gas and my body was reacting to it. I began to vomit, curled on my side, exhausted by my seemingly pointless contractions, releasing the little I had in my stomach into little paper bowls, and having pains still surge through my body that I couldn’t seem to manage while lying down.
Then came another recommendation from the doctor and my own midwife, that I could have an epidural and sometime this would relax the body to assist with the cervix dilating.
Me and Juan discussed this and I decided to go with the recommendation, more doctors came to discuss this and we waited for the team to come and administer the epidural. I had read about them and felt prepared, but not overly excited, about what was about to happen.
But then our doctor returned, now the decision was made I just wanted it to begin, I wanted to move on to the next stage and stop having all then coupling contractions that I had completely lost my flow to manage.
He came with another recommendation, another decision to be made.
It was heading into Friday night and the theatre was filling up. They made sure to let us know that they would not leave us in any danger if there was an emergency but if I continued on the drip with the epidural and nothing progressed then I would need to deliver via C-section.
However, if that was the case, I would have to wait until about 4 or 5am until the theatre was free (unless the baby or I entered into a critical condition). He recommended that we had the C-section now, as it is a probable outcome, and it would be best to complete it while baby is still in a good condition and not stressed.
We had 5 minutes alone to discuss this. Options being, complete the C-section now, or continue with the epidural and potentially be labouring for the next 12 hours without progressing. I may have progressed and had a virginal birth — but now I will never know.
I am somewhat embarrassed for my desire to go with the doctors recommendation, I wanted to meet this baby, I wanted this uncertainty and disheartening lack of progress to be over. I wanted to take what felt the easy option, and I wanted my baby to be born today.
I had (and have had to since) let go of any disappointment or negativity around having a C-section, I was born that way, as was Juan and many many babies.
The doctor did another examination just to check any progress, I spoke to my midwife about the options and what had been recommended, and then we made the decision.
We would go for the C-section now.
As soon as the decision was made it all happened in a rush. An anaesthetist came to talk about my back operation and to check consents, Juan was rushed into the bathroom to get into scrubs for the theatre room, the drip was removed from my arm, and I was being talked through what would happen, who would be there, and what I needed to know to sign consent. I signed away and was rolled out of the room and off to theatre. As I went someone else started talking to me from behind, more information I needed to know to consent to, another stranger that would play a part in the birth of my son.
The theatre was bright and filled with unfamiliar faces. They all spoke with kindness and at speed. This was happening now, and there was no time for delays.
They needed to apply the spinal block regional anaesthesia into my back. It was applied, I had to stay still while the pains still flowed through me. But each time the needle went into my back a sharp pain surged down my right side of my leg. This happened time and time again. Until someone else had to come and apply, my spine seems to be off-centre. At the same time the intravenous needed to be done a few times as my veins were swelling when liquid was placed in them. The room was a flurry of activity and people probing me, talking to me, calming me, and guiding me through each step.
Then finally the spinal block set in, and it was go time.
The doctor started to make the incision while Juan sat at my side and held my hand. Someone sat at my other side and spoke calmly to me, they explained what was happening and the doctors voice also came through the screen preparing us for the moment that was approaching.
Then the room slowed, now was the moment, they said. Get the phone ready for photos, get ready for our lives to change forever. I couldn’t feel a thing and with my arms out at my side, all I could do was wait — not quite the delivery I hoped for, not the image I had in my mind of bringing this child into the world. All I could do was wait.
The first thing I heard was a cry, your first sound entering your life with us. It was the most angelic sound, my eyes filled with tears as I heard your call through the room. Then you were there, held above the screen for us to see you in all your beautiful glory.
From now and forever more, I am with you.
Note: grammatical errors and slurs of flow are clearly the result of baby brain / new mum exhaustion as written in stolen moments between baby sleeping.
