Hi all...
Isabella Grace born 10th November at 5.44pm
Weighing in at a hefty 9lbs 8oz.
Don't know where the days go!? Between feedings and changings and trying to cram some sleep in here and there I blink and miss a couple of days! So, sorry it's taken so long to update you...
Here goes the story of our marathon labour... Hardly a textbook birth, suffice to say, and certainly not the water/hypno/gasandair experience we'd envisaged...
Started having contractions after my second sweep on Thursday - while on the monitor at the OAU, actually... nothing particularly strong, but regular enough for the midwives to say "ooh doesn't seem like you'll be needing the induction tomorrow then"... famous last words (#1)... I'm only 1cm dilated and 50% effaced though.
Everything stopped at midnight, so I got 3 precious hours sleep, before it all started off again at 3am.
Went into hospital the next morning as planned, and although I was having contractions, it wasn't really building , so they decided to give me a dose of misoprostil (sp? - anyway, prostaglandin in pill form). Midwife says "I think you'll be one of those women who just needs the one pill to get things moving"... famous last words (#2).
8 hours later, have walked the halls of the Homerton several times over and been up and down the stairs so many times I think I wore a groove. Still contracting but not strongly, 2 more internals, STILL 1 cm.
Second dose of prostaglandin.
2 hours later waters break spontaneously, and contractions step up by several gears, after 2 hours, they're painful enough for me to demand some gas and air, duly provided.
But I'm still 1cm.
2 hours later, (midnight) and there are now no breaks whatsoever between contractions - it's just pretty much one constant contraction which goes on for 4 hours. The gas and air isn't even making a dent, even though I've gotten through an entire tank of the stuff, I am screaming the place down - it's an antenatal ward with loads of poor women trying to recover from C-sections and it's the middle of the night.
Another internal, and I'm now...
1.5cm.
Baby is fine throughout, by the way... steady heart rate of 135 with not a waver. Nothing bothers this one, it seems.
Eventually the consultant arrives, (after much pestering from Alex, and possibly other poor women on the ward desperate for some sleep...) pronounces me 2cm (whey-hey) makes an executive decision NOT to wait for the regulation 3cm and gets me downstairs to delivery suite for an epidural.
Best bloody thing in the history of the universe IMHO. (Bit tricky to get in, as you're supposed to do it in-between contractions, but there was no 'in-between', and trying to hold perfectly still during a contraction which has been going on for 4 hours is pretty tough). 15 minutes later and all the pain stops. Such pure blessed relief... I think I may have professed undying love for the anaesthetist (female).
Get hooked up to oxytocin drip to ensure contractions don't stop also.
4 hours later I'm at 7cm!!
That's the good news. The bad news is that baby has passed meconium (grade 3, otherwise known as "a real pea souper" by the midwives... I just couldn't believe HOW MUCH of it there was) at some point, although there are no other signs of distress, so it's probably just down to being overdue. However, it means that time is now of the essence, as they don't want to leave her swimming in it for too long as she might swallow it or breathe it in. I have to get those last 3 centimeters dilated so I start hip wiggling like a mad thing to Ella Fitzgerald... (BTW even with the epidural I was able to feel my legs and be mobile throughout).
It takes me 8 more hours to get to 9cm. There's a brief deceleration in baby's heart beat (which the midwife thinks is because the monitor came loose) and the consultant says "enough" and that we have to get the baby delivered NOW, and that he'll use forceps. However, on clocking the size of baby's head, he decides there's a chance he won't be able to get her out, and decides to do it in theatre just in case they have to do a crash C-section.
Suddenly there are pediatricians, anaesthetists and more midwives than I can count, and everything moves very fast and is a bit scary from here.
Wheeled into theatre and after 10 minutes of full-on pushing from me and eye-popping pulling on the forceps from the consulant and his assistant (!?) she's out. 30 minutes of embroidery down below, and I'm in recovery and Issie is feeding like a pro. APGAR was 8/10/10, so no adverse effects from the meconium either.
All's well that ends well, as they say... although the birth plan may have been a bit of a waste of time and paper!
Issie was completely unfazed by the whole thing - her heart rate didn't even fluctuate during the forceps delivery. And while the episiotomy, extended 3° tear and cervical lacerations mean that things are a bit uncomfortable for me at the moment, we're both doing just fine. We had brilliant doctors and midwives throughout, great continuity of care, and while it was all a bit traumatic at times, I always felt looked after and that someone had the situation under control - I really can't fault them.
She is HUGE, looks about 2 months old already, very fat, and very very cute. She's feeding well, sleeping well and seems to have put herself on a nice 3-4hour schedule.
Moral of this story?
If you're 5ft 1", and your husband is a 6ft 3" rugby playing South African with a big head, don't allow your baby to go 2 weeks overdue... !!
Glad to see you over here too Choc... phew - what a wait for us both!
Lots of love,
DB & baby Issie