I had a completely normal pregnancy. At 40 weeks we moved house. I had a stretch & sweep in the morning and went to the old house to do a bond clean straight after.
When I was 6 days overdue my best friend took me shopping, in her words she was going to “walk this baby out of me”. We didn’t actually think that would be what happened. It was about 2pm when I went to the toilet and noticed green liquid. I told my friend that I wasn’t feeling well and I needed to go home. When I got home I called the hospital and they requested I come in ASAP to be checked. We got into the car and off we went.
As soon as I arrived I was taken to a birthing suite and told to lie down. After 30 minutes a couple of midwives turned up with a flashlight and had a look and said I had a hind-water leak and I was going to be induced ASAP because bub was distressed (hence the green colour). It was around 5pm and a storm was rolling in. By this stage my parents had turned up in the birthing suite. I was induced but didn’t realise, and asked when they would be inducing me. They asked me if I could feel the contractions I was having because they were fairly strong – I couldn’t feel anything. This is when they decided to break my waters. I don’t understand why they did things in this order. They popped TED stockings on me and sat me on a “bluie” – which is basically an absorbent pad. They tilted my bed back (which is incredibly uncomfortable when heavily pregnant) and pulled out something similar to a crochet hook… They broke my waters and green fluid went EVERYWHERE – my stockings were drenched, the bluie was useless, the bed was drenched and there was fluid all over the floor.
From there it becomes a bit of a blur. The contractions came on hard and fast at this point. I was sucking on gas like it was in short supply. The pain was incredible and unrelenting. I eventually asked for something better, so they gave me a shot of morphine – at least they claim thats what it was – personally I think they gave me water and pretended it was morphine because it did absolutely nothing!
Eventually I cried and begged for an epidural, which they gave me. Now, I don’t really remember the contractions ever stopping but my memory of the epidural suggests they did because I remember sitting up leaning over and then telling them when the contraction passed so they could put the epidural in. Without this memory I would gladly say the contractions lasted the entire time without stopping. The epidural did nothing. I was still in just as much pain. I cried. And cried. And cried. I asked to go to the toilet, which they let me do, although warned me that I didn’t actually need to poo, it was just the baby pushing. I was certain they were wrong, but they were right. I sat in the toilet and cried and cried. I couldn’t take any more. I was exhausted, it hurt too much. I couldn’t do it.
This whole time I had monitors on me and the baby (there was a monitor attached to bub’s head). At some point after I went to the toilet the midwives became concerned and called in a doctor. My baby was getting very distressed. They brought in an ultrasound machine and turned it away from me so I couldn’t see what was on the screen. A few minutes later the doctor told me they were going to need to do a c-section. Thank fucking god was my thought. I was so over the pain and so ready for a c-section. Unfortunately things just continued getting worse from there. I groggily signed the paperwork. Somewhere in there I threw up (as I was 9.5cm dilated). It felt like it happened so fast but I am told it actually took around 30 minutes from them telling me I was having a c-section to me leaving the ward. As I left the ward my Mum broke down in the corner. I reassured her it was all fine and it would be ok. I genuinely thought it would be OK at that time. And then we began running. I don’t know how many people were with me, but it felt like lots. I began to realise the seriousness of the situation. Whoever was pushing me was yelling at people to get out of the way. We were in a massive hurry. I realised at this moment that my baby was dying. All I could think was “If it’s a boy, I am going to be picking a name for a baby boy who has died” – it was complete torture. I started crying at this point, just from the realisation. We got to theatre and I was put under pretty much straight away. That was around 10.15am. My daughter was born at 10.30am, not breathing. Thankfully her life was saved and she was whisked off to the Special Care Nursery. I obviously wasn’t exactly present for the next few events, but I was filled in over the next few days. I woke at 9pm that evening in the Intensive Care Unit. I had tubes coming out of me left, right and centre. I felt like I was drowning and began panicking straight away. A lovely nurse ran off to find a doctor and they got the tubes out of my throat ASAP, though I was told not to speak because my throat would be quite raw. I was told I had given birth to a baby girl and she was OK, and in SCN. I also learned that I had haemorrhaged on the table, losing 2.1L of blood. They managed to stop the bleeding, although I almost ended up with a hysterectomy. On top of this I had managed to develop pneumonia and both of my lungs partially collapsed.
I spent my night in ICU wondering where everyone was, while listening to the man next to me who the nurses said was most likely to die. His family and friends called constantly all night long. A very lovely nurse went away and took photos of my daughter for me. They are the most precious photos I have of my daughter. She was just perfect.
It was the following afternoon before I was able to meet her and even then it was a very brief meeting. She was absolutely precious.