Right, ok, sorry it's taken me so long!
Got the phone call on Tuesday morning (1st April) to go in a bit earlier, so off we went with our bag of goodies, bag of games, oh yeah, and stuff for me and Pickle, lol, and left poor little Boo with Nanny & Grandad.
Usual induction bollocks of my best friend the monitor (not), and they gave me the propess. And yeah, nothing. So it's getting into the afternoon and evening, I'm getting increasingly pissed off and stressed, it's not working, can I have something else, it's a waste of time. But everyone is saying no, leave it, no, leave it. And more of the monitoring. And I'm very much aware of the fact that all of this sitting doing nothing and being on the monitor is how Phoebe ended up being back to back, so not happy!
Since it is clear we won't be seeing Pickle any time soon, DH goes home for a shower, to restock the food, and to bring me in a jigsaw- might as well keep myself busy or I'll be baying for blood...
After begging the latest person to take it out because it's a waste of time, I'm in the loo at about 9pm, and trying to clean the bastard string because it's all slimy, and I pull a little too hard, and oh bugger, it's come out. And nobody is going to believe it was an accident, lol. Came out really easily though, like it wasn't in properly in the first place. Maybe that's why it didn't work.
So I'm sitting around and waiting for someone to come and hopefully just let me have the bloody prostin like last time, and eventually they come back and say they have to put in a new propess, and we have to leave it the full 24 hours. Groan. I eventually get a new one at midnight. And guess what? Fuck all.
So DH is asleep in the marginally comfier chair than last time, and I'm up in the small hours writing a tear-soaked letter to Phoebe apologising for not being with her. It was gut-wrenchingly awful not being with her. And by that point I've put together all the straight edges for the jigsaw (world's smallest 1000 piece, about A3 size, of Sydney Opera House if you're curious- did it on a tray).
Next day, waiting waiting waiting til 12, ringing my mum to piss and moan and check on Phoebe, who's having an awesome time and hasn't even noticed I've gone. :(
So they come, and announce it hasn't worked (DUH!) so we will have to try the prostin... but they can't give me it for 24 hours, because they don't want to overstimulate the cervix, and make my womb explode or whatever. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHH!!!
So I spend the whole of Wednesday just sat there like a complete numpty just doing nothing. Monitors, jigsaw, games with DH. And a whole lot of pissing and moaning. Some doctors are supposed to come see me at 10pm to confirm whether they'll go with the prostin or not- only I find myself waiting waiting waiting. And they never came, because they didn't see the point. But nobody told me. And meanwhile it's monitoring for hours on end because Pickle's heartbeat is too slow and they wan't to see some activity because she's been asleep, or she's too active and they want her to settle down. Grump.
Thursday. They know how completely fucked off I am with the whole thing, and get everything sorted for me as quickly as possible. The whole time I've been in my cervix hasn't moved or softened. I think the bishop score actually went backwards at one point. So I finally get my prostin, and... yeah, nothing. A few sort of contractions, but nothing. And now that I'm intimately acquainted with the monitor and what all the marks mean, I can see it's not working. Roll on second lot. By this time I've been on my back a lot on the monitor because they didn't get the readings they wanted with me on my side, despite my protests. I get the 2nd lot of prostin at some point in the evening (I've forgotten now) and same again, at which point I'm thinking 'oh fuck'. But a couple of hours in I'm getting the crampy contractiony things, and I know it's working like last time. Huzzah! About fucking time.
Some doctor is coming to see me at whatever o'clock, so I work my arse off to get the jigsaw finished before they come, since the intention is that they'll check my cervix and drag me off to manually break my waters in delivery suite. And I do it just in time! And by now they're proper backachey crampy contractions, every 5 minutes-ish. I voice my concerns with the midwife on duty that I really don't want them doing a manual rupture as I don't want the drip or for Pickle to be distressed, she says it will be ok because the doctor will listen, and take that into account.
So the doctor swans in at midnight (much later than expected, shock) and I should mention at this point that during the exams my cervix hasn't got further than 4cm, and is still high and posterior. By now I'm feeling like a sex worker on a busy shift, things are pretty raw and getting swollen down there... Mr Doctor basically tells me that my cervix isn't favourable for rupture, but they're going to do it anyway. I say I don't want that, and he basically tells me it's tough titties- she's been in there to long and she has to come out. For once I'm not the only one with a face like a smacked arse- the midwife isn't happy either. I will be dragged kicking and screaming to delivery suite THE MOMENT a bed becomes available. Gulp.
Fortunately about 10 minutes later the woman in the bay next to me has her waters go, so that takes the heat off for a bit. It's hours, we haven't heard anything, and I'm getting to be in a lot of pain. Oh, and the doctor said she's back to back. Not happy! The midwife is in and out, reassuring that they haven't forgotten about me and my name is up on the board, honest.
In the early hours it gets so bad I need pethidine. They suggest a bath, which doesn't really help, so pethidine it is. Feel bad for giving in again, but reassured that regardless I would have needed it last time, and DH not being there had nothing to do with it. I got maybe an hour and a half's sleep on and off between contractions before it wore off. Cervix still high, posterior and 4cm (FFS!)
I managed to spend pretty much all of the time standing or bending over- there was no way I was lying in bed again, I didn't want her coming out back to back if I could help it, and I couldn't believe how much more painful the contractions were if I laid on my side, and they were even worse on my back.
So we get to maybe 8:45am and I'm yelling by now. I need gas & air, yikes! So they bring me a portable cylinder and I'm dragging on it like my life depends on it, but it makes absolutely. no. difference. whatsoever. I buzz them at 9 and tell them it's not working. Exam- 7-8cm they think, but they can't actually feel any cervix. Wheelchaired to delivery suite- can't go to MLU as Pickle is still not engaged- have to be on delivery suite in case cord comes out first when waters break. DH is running along behind with all the bags, and nearly loses us in the corridors!
They take me to the pool room- they were planning to do me a water birth or whatnot, but I get there and stand with my hands on the bed- can I climb on for them to do a doppler? NO! So there's midwives all over the shop, one holding me up with DH, one still with the wheelchair, and one with the doppler, they can't get a trace because of the position I'm in. And then I need to push, so they tell me to go for it.
I get a little spatter of fluid on the floor, which seems insignificant after the bucket of water that I had with Phoebe, but on the next push out comes the rest, all over everyone's feet. DH didn't know it had happened, he just noticed everyone looking at the floor. And then pushing and feeling the burning stretching of her crowning, and then her head was out (apparently), and then I think one or two more pushes and she was out and being passed to me through my legs- 9:26am- about 9 minutes after getting into the room! She was red with blood from head to foot, which was a bit of a shock, and they said I was bleeding a lot. They wanted to cut the cord because she wasn't breathing yet, I vaguely remember turning her over and rubbing her back, and then she was crying, and they took her over for a bit of oxygen I think, but by then I was on the bed, and she was on my chest shortly after. I had a few tears, from where she'd just shot out- her head hadn't even changed shape- but apart from that pretty unscathed. she looked really skinny compared to Phoebe, but weighed the same- 8lb 5oz.
They stitched me up, I had a bath, and off we went- they took me up to the ward, and they put me in a separate place because they knew I didn't like the main ward. :)
The midwife there was the one I'd been to see, and I got settled into a lovely crisp bed and just wanted to sleep... then she came in, and said they could get the newborn checks dome within a few hours, and then I could go home if I wanted. (!)
To be honest, by that point I was so shell-shocked with how quick it had all been that I just wanted to stay put, but DH convinced me to go home, and my mum came with Phoebe at about 5pm.
We've called her Lyra Elphaba Moon, after the main character in Philip Pulllman's 'His Dark Materials', and the witch from 'Wicked'. :)
... and now she's 5 weeks old, I don't know where the time's gone! She's slept in bed next to me from the beginning, and I think we've only had 2 nights total where we've had really badly interrrupted sleep, and one of those was because Phoebe was sick.
She only lost 5% of her birth weight, is exclusively breastfed (YES!) and we're all signed off from everybody.
And right now she's screaming for boob, so I'd better feed her. Still struggling with painful latching and misbehaving nipples, but getting there. :)