Wednesday, 27 January 2016

The Journey to Meeting Chance


My little Sagittarius was born on the 10th December 2015 at 11:18am; not only Chance’s birthday but also Human Rights Day and Alfred Nobel Day; the latter a nod to his Swedish roots.

As this post is nearly 7 weeks overdue, I feel I must start from the beginning.

  • March: 26th birthday in Istanbul and the month I got pregnant
  • April: Sent an email to MrL SUBJECT: 35 weeks and coming soon BODY: positive pregnancy test
  • May: 1st trimester babymoon in Paphos, first ultrasound expecting baby on 19/12 and announcement to my parents
  • June: Good news was further spread to my team and MrL’s family in Sweden
  • July: Halfway through and the arrival of linea nigra
  • August: Anomaly scan and told baby was ‘large’ for dates and I have low lying placenta, c-section very likely
  • September: 2nd trimester babymoon in Maldives (previously booked for November, our 4th wedding anniversary) and Glucose test
  • October: Belly popped and looking quite pregnant, dates for c-section being discussed
  • November: Dates for c-section thrown out, reached 37 weeks and term; maternity leave begins at the end of the month
  • December: Maternity leave week 1 tidying, cleaning and shopping; maternity leave week 2…


IT ALL KICKS OFF! It started with a simple post on Instagram and by that evening I thought I was experiencing my first labour sign. Panic stricken I called the birth centre informed them MrL and I were coming in and hopped into an Uber.
For those not familiar, I had gone all Earth mama during my pregnancy and was adamant about giving birth at home, when MrL vehemently opposed, we settled on the birth centre, a home away from home experience which is extremely natural and no medical intervention...meaning no epidural, forceps, ventouse, nothing! So, after seeing the consultant in the early hours of the 8th December, told that I was bleeding and needed to be induced, I knew that dream was over and that s**t just got real.

The induction process began that Tuesday afternoon with propess ( a slow release pessary that should start labour within 24 hours) and that was to be removed by Wednesday afternoon; in the interim MrL began his paternity leave (although still very much glued to his blackberry) and I started my ‘Sex and the City’ marathon. As this was all rush rush, I hadn’t actually packed mine or the baby’s hospital bag so after a quick trip home, MrL, my mother and I returned back to the hospital with “too many things” and my much needed birth ball.
Wednesday afternoon came round extremely quickly, where I had been enjoying the likes of Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha and Miranda, I had forgotten to sleep, whilst MrL next to me in bed seemed to be in deep sleep.

Later that morning, the Propess was removed and I was expecting another prostaglandin to induce me when I experienced ‘a lot’ of bleeding; it was then that I was advised that things would need to move along a lot quicker in order to deliver safely...I know it didn’t register, as I was asking to be moved to a room that had a birthing pool, still hellbent on keeping this as natural as possible; after much back and forth and a strong NO, a cannula was inserted and I was advised that they would need to artificially rupture my membranes (break my waters) and hook me up to syntocinon.
It was only in the time that the doctors had left me to process the information, that I realised I hadn't even gotten round to eating my breakfast, lunch or dinner and beside this were 12 red velvet cupcakes from Hummingbird cupcakes, also not eaten!
My labour was going to start soon and not only had I not slept, I hadn’t eaten either! The most important thing one should remember, from all those antenatal classes, was to rest and fuel up... neither of which I had done!

When the doctor returned I had at least finished my cold porridge, and was trying to work out how to use the gas and air in advance of the painful vaginal exams (for me the VEs were worse than the labour) and kickstart my labour.
Midnight arrived, my waters had been broken and the syntocinon drip was going.
After realising what a long process this was going to be, I started to gulp down bottles of Gatorade and began chewing on Lucozade tablets to get some energy. MrL was on gas and air duty handing it to me when I started to stir from sleep during a contraction, and taking it from me when I fell back to sleep. That continued for hours and was fast becoming relentless, the only way to describe it, is like running a marathon with no end mile marker.

The induction process had been started at midnight and it was now light outside and all I wanted to do was sleep; you cannot sleep when you are having contractions consistently and your husband is passing you gas and air every other minute, so I called for the anaesthetist to explain to me the pros and cons of the epidural. As mentioned earlier, I was trying to be Earth mama, yet this ‘Earth mama’ was running on no sleep, thanks to Sex and the City, little to no food and was functioning on Gatorade, Lucozade chewable tablets plus gas and air...and I was told that I was only halfway through what was meant to be at least a 20 hour stretch...I NEEDED TO SLEEP! I cut the anaesthetist off mid-sentence rambled about needing sleep and signed off on being given the epidural.

When epidural is administered you are automatically given a catheter due to being numb from the waist down; I was still being extremely stubborn and proclaimed that I would walk to the bathroom myself, which I did a couple of times as I had lots of feeling in my legs and was incredibly mobile.
It felt like I had only been asleep for 10 minutes when I was told that I was fully dilated. “WHAT! I HAVE ONLY JUST FALLEN ASLEEP!” Apparently I progressed extremely quickly, and this was unheard of the doctors said, and that at 10am I could start pushing. That was in an hour, so I yelled for more lucozade tablets and literally started working my way through as many packets as possible. At 10am I got on all fours, grabbed MrL’s hand, who was at my head and started pushing, after a few position changes and returning to ‘doggy’ position at 11:16 my son’s head was out. 2 minutes later his body was out. I pulled him through my legs, turned around and put him on my chest. It was all so surreal, I had gone from pushing to breastfeeding my child in 10 minutes, and all I could say was ‘HE, HAS BALLS!’
Even though I had to be induced, and it didn’t go as planned (I had prepared a c-section and a natural birth plan, both of them irrelevant) it was perfect. My large for dates baby, arrived 9 days earlier than the estimated due date given at our first appointment, 2 inches longer than the average and a pound heavier.

He arrived perfectly chilled out, and so far has stayed perfectly chilled out and when I look back to that day, the moment that sticks out the most is when I looked down at him feeding at 10 minutes old, in my arms and finally getting that much needed sleep, with my baby.

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