After what has been over six months since little Logi's birth, I am ready to tell his birth story.
I was scheduled for an elective cesarean on Logan's due date, the 26th of March.
The week or so leading up to the 40th week of pregnancy I was very uncomfortable, and in the evenings I got pains that shot down my groin and I had terrible lower back pain. Sometimes the pains would be so bad that I would start laughing and I was unable to move. During the day at times I would get braxton hix contractions so strong that I would start timing them as I thought I might actually be in labour.
Saturday the 23rd of March was no different to any other day other than the fact that I was particularly grumpy and uncomfortable. I was hot and bothered and I simply could not wait for Tuesday to come so my pregnancy would be at an end and I could hold my little boy. I had had as much as I could take.
I was sitting on the couch reading and dad was watching rugby that evening and I suddenly felt a 'pop' right down there. It was the strangest feeling and I am yet to find the right words to describe to people what I felt. I remember getting goosebumps all over my body and feeling a bit unsettled by it. I thought that either my membranes had ruptured, or well, my uterus had now stretched so far that it ruptured - I felt that big! I felt nothing further and brushed it off thinking that it was probably just the baby moving and perphas he kicked my pelvis. The rugby game had just finished so it was probably around 9pm.
A few minutes later a felt a little bit of fluid trickle out and I figured the baby had pressed on my bladder and made me leak a bit of urine. I got up quite annoyed with the fact that I felt that I have now even lost more control of my bladder and said "this is ridiculous" as I made my way to the bathroom.
I went to the toilet and it felt like my tummy needed to got, I was feeling a bit strange and crampy in my tummy, but not much was happening. As soon as I got up there was a gush of water between my legs and I just knew..all this time it was my water that had broken. I jumped in the shower as the water was still running out and called Alan. "We are having a baby tonight" I told him. "My water just broke." I was laughing but it was nervousness more than anything.
I was sure that there was still lots of time and at the time I didn't feel like I was really contracting yet. Alan started scrambling around packing the last few things that I was instructing him to put in the hospital bag and he seemed to be rushing around like a headless chicken not quite knowing how to organise himself. In the meantime I finished my shower and when I got out the fun started...the first real contraction hit and it was painfull as anything. Every time I contracted - about 5 minutes apart - more water rushed out. There I was in the room with only a top on and a towel between my legs because everytime I tried to pull my panties on they would get soaked. Eventually I realised I was fighing a losing battle and put my panties on with a maternity pad (I laugh at this now because I don't know why I thought it would help!) and my jeans.
Alan finally gained control and got everything ready. Including an overnight bag and the cot and everything he would need for little Bella who was still fast asleep at this stage. He packed the car and I was wondering around aimlessly trying to help and trying desperately to remember if there was anything I was forgetting.
An hour later Bella was strapped in the carchair, I was in the car breathing through contractions that were now about 3 to 4 minutes apart and we were on our way. I told Alan we had enough time to drop Bella off at his parents because my contactions were not that long and still manageable...but on the way to the hospital I quickly changed my mind. All of a sudden they were taking my breath away and lasting about 30 seconds each. Some longer than others. Alan phoned his parents to meet us at the hospital and put his foot on the gass. Somewhere in between contractions I managed to phone my parents to tell them that we were in labour and on our way to the hospital.
Oh yes, somewhere in between all the running around and packing and contracting we remembered that we did not have any pregnant pictures of me, so I stood in the corridor - Alan reminding me to smile - while he snapped a few pictures with his iPad.
I sat on a towel in the car because everytime I contacted more water came out. By the time we arrived at the hospital my jeans were soaked through all the way down to my knees. The contractions were becoming increasingly painful and as we stumbled into the hospital everything seemed so calm and quiet...especially when we walked into the maternity ward. We checked into a private room and I told the nurse on duty that I was booked for a cesarean for Tuesday but obviously baby decided to come earlier. I was handed a gown to change into and was hooked onto a fetal monitor so we could see how baby was doing. I was in a lot of pain and sweating but I felt okay and felt like I was handling everything. The nurse put a linen saver under me as I was still leaking with every contraction.
After completing and signing all the necessary forms things became a bit of a blur. Alan left to meet his parents and leave Isabella with them. And I was lying on the bed having the most intense contractions. It is hard to tell how far apart they were or how long they lasted. But if I think back they were about 2 minutes apart now and I could not breathe, let alone talk through the contactions.
The nurse that was prepping me for surgery looked at the monitor and commented "sjo, your contractions aren't even giving you a break."
Alan came back and was holing my had and trying to tell me how well I was doing but I wasn't even hearing him. All I could focus on was the pain and when the next contraction was going to hit. Another nurse popped her head in and reassured me that they are just getting the emergency surgery team together and it would be another 30 minutes. I clung to that bit of information....only 30 more minutes I kept repeating over and over in my head.
A nurse came do do and internal. She told me that she just wants to check my progress because here we are all calm and just now the baby is on his way. I was excited to hear how far I was dilated...I had to be at the very least 2 by now...I was hoping for 4. I was 1cm. That is as far as I ever got. She proceded to insert my catheter and it was very uncomfortable. Because it was an emergency cesarean they do it before you go into theatre instead of waiting until after the spinal. But I could feel in my gut that something was not right and that we needed to do the cesarean...It just felt like it was taking forever. I kept repeating to myself that 30 minutes more was all I had to wait and bear with.
Finally they fetched me and wheeled me into the labour ward. I briefly remember passing by Alan's parents and seeing Isabella's worried little face as she sucked her thumb. Alan was instructed to go and get dressed in his scrubs. They parked me outside the surgery and the anethetist went to do another girls epidural who was also there and dilating quickly so they had to do her first. Dr Halles, the on call doctor, came to talk to me. She took my hand and said she knew I was in pain and that it will be over soon. She asked me all kinds of questions about allergies, previous surgeries, and things like that but I can't even remember because I was in too much pain. I had turned on to my side and the contractions were now rolling in one after the other sometimes there wasn't even a break between the two. Alan tried to rub my back but I took his hand away, I didn't want to be touched. I told him at some point that if I contracted again I was going to vomit from the pain. He jumped up and called for one of the nurses who brought me a blue bucket.
Luckily just then after what felt like an eternity they wheedled me into the theatre. I got transferred onto the theatre table and was able to sit upright, and a whole lot of water gushed out. I remember the anethetis coming round and saying 'Wow, is this all amniotic fluid?' I apologised but they were all very reassuring and told me it was clear which was a good sign. I needn't apologise or worry about anything. I held onto the midwife as they told me to tell them when I had a break between contractions so they could do the spinal block.
I lay down on the table and relaxed as I felt no more pain. It was a big relief but I felt odd and a little ill. I watched as everyone went about their business until the spinal took full effect.
We are all ready now and all I wanted was to see my baby. I wasn't sorry for one second that I was lying on the operating table because I just wanted my baby to be born safely. The doctor started cutting and I could smell burnt flesh, Alan sat down in a chair next to me looking quite pale. Shame, afterwards he confessed that he couldn't handle the smell and nearly fell over. All the time in the operating room though he kept smiling at me reassuringly. What a rock!
The midwife told Alan to get ready with his camera as baby will be here soon.
They warned me that they were going to push hard on my stomach to get the baby out. They pushed down so hard that they nearly took all the wind out of me, twice. They were battling to get him out. I watched in the overhead lights and saw his head pop out. There was a brief cry and then it went silent. Someone said "wait, wait wait!" and "don't pull!" I could see the doctor struggling with something and looked at Alan. I kept asking if the baby was okay? No one really said anything. Alan put his hand on my shoulder and said everything was fine. But I wasn't convinced. I could see it on his face. I watched as I reallised that they were trying to cut the ambilical cord from around his neck. They managed and pulled him out and he started screaming. I looked at the clock and it was 12:35am. I was so relieved! They showed him to me and although a bit blue and quite an ugly little thing, he was perfect and they handed him to the pediatrician.
That's when his tummy started going and htye kept having to change the cloths while doing his check and it felt like I was watching them for a long time before they gave him to me. He looked so much like Isabella when she was born.
They doctor came up to my stand by my head when she finished stitching me up and told me that I needed to wait at least two years if I want another baby, my uterus had ruptured, but she will talk to me later in the morning.
They gave Alan our baby to hold while they shifted me onto my bed. They unswaddled him (he'd poohed again, poor thing) and put him on my bear chest so I could breastfeed. He latched straight away and started drinking. They wheeled me back to the maternity ward through the waiting area and stopped breefly so that Isabella could have a look at her new baby brother.
What a night. I would never want to relive it but I also would not want to change it.
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