Hello - I'm afraid I'm going to use you all as a huge release which I've needed every since DS1 was born last year and which I've never admitted to. This is going to be a loooong post but I'm hoping to get rid of some demons which have been haunting me ever since.
I am feeling very emotional today as it's my last official day of maternity leave plus also the anniversary of when I went into a beautiful and not as planned labour.
It was give or take 5 minutes from now, a year ago, that I decided these weren't Braxton Hicks and as DS was 3 weeks early I was literally tying on cot bumpers and pacing out contractions on the landing - we sooo weren't ready!
After a long and amazing yet lonely night in the bath (and after my show so I knew we were real) I shouted up DH who went into full panic mode but got us safely to the hospital. I then had a blissful 8 hours in the birthing pool with all my lovely plinky plonky music in the background and a LOT of gas and air! I was incredibly sick but honestly didn't care and was just in awe of everything my body was doing. I thought I'd reached transition cos I was at the 'I can't do it anymore' stage and was re-assured when my midwife called in another midwife and we started to talk about placenta delivery etc. (I've watched LOTS of OBEM so saw this as a good sign!) but then everything stopped. Literally. Stopped. No contractions, no urges. Nothing. What a flipping anti climax!!
So, as it was the pool and as that particular hospital had a maternal death law suit hanging over it, that was it. Out I came. It was insane how much difference to the pain coming out of the water meant. I don't really remember it but DH says I was cliched delivery woman screaming at all the staff but I was super chilled in the pool!!
it turns out DS had corkscrewed the wrong way (probably cos I didn't move enough - downside of pool labour IMHO) so now was back to back and since I was out of the pool (plan A) we decided to move to plan C which was epidural. Thank God. Some rest. However, it seemed that Mr was still not ready plus his heart rate was dropping so we were now getting prepped for a C-section. Christ. My absolute nightmare - at least plan F. I was 100% on breastfeeding and my best mate had a c-section and couldn't feed so that really would have been a disaster. Anyway, at the last minute (drugged up to my eyeballs, 36 hours awake) the angelic surgeon (lady) decided to 'give it one more go' to turn him and it worked. So it was forceps in theatre at 10pm.
However and the main point of my post (sorry I've gone on a bit!) was that me and DH were so freaked out by this point we never insisted on the final part of the plan and DS was whisked away whilst I was vomiting spuriously on the operating theater floor (nice) but we'd asked if I was unable, that DH would do skin to skin and that never happened.
There is also some resentment in me for DH that he knew the plan and wasn't strong enough to back it up when I was incapacitated.
I was so out of it (mainly through simple tiredness) I really feel that I missed some very important bonding time and we don't have that lovely 'time we spent after you were born' memories.
This has been playing on my mind for a year now and I don't think I'll ever get over it but thought maybe writing it down will make it easier.
And I am sorry if you have had worst experiences as I know we are very lucky to have a healthy baby but i am a bit concerned for my mental state so a download is very useful x