Thing Two was born on Thursday 7th September at 23:30 weighing 8lb 15oz after 3 pushes and a 4.5 hour labour start to finish.
The Long Story
In the weeks leading up to the birth I was a familiar site at the day ward at the hospital, once for suspected waters leaking (turned out they were in tact), once for spotting and then in the very final weeks I had high bp and had to spend three gruelling days travelling up to the hospital to have BP profiles done that seemed to take all day and as you can imagine were terrifically boring. They wanted to admit me as an inpatient, the night before Thing One's second birthday. I listened to them, weighed up my options and making an informed albeit 'against medical advice' decision, I discharged myself and went home. The protein was only a trace, the BP was high for me but not fatally so nor high enough to warrant any medication and everything else was fine. The anxiety caused through staying in hospital alone, never mind missing Thing One's birthday would have been far more detrimental to my health. Plus, after Thing One's poor first birthday (he was very poorly) there was no way I was missing his second even if i did have to spent the first half of the day back at hospital (The compromise we came to with the Consultant)
I was 40+4 and thoroughly once again fed up, i'd tried -every- natural induction thing going (apart from castor oil because that's just fucking dangerous) and i hadn't even had so much as an itch never mind a twinge! My tiongue was spasoming from excess pineapples, my lips sore from curry and my pelvis in agony from walking. OUr bathroom stank like a hippies brothel from an explosion of Clary Sage. I had my 'overdue' appointment at the hospital and was more then prepared to be told my cervix would be posterior thick tight and closed (like at 41w with Thing One) Optimistic I was not. From self examination I did suspect I might be 2cm.....so imagine my surprise when the doctor told me I was 3-4cm dilated pre-sweep! she did a sweep and told me she thoroughly expected me to be delivering that night or the night after but if not to go back the following Wednesday to have my waters broken. She found it hard to believe that I was that far dilated without even a cramp. Like my first pregnancy, I never experienced so much as a BH.
I was convinced the sweep wouldn't work, they rarely do and I'd already had my allocated success with Thing One. (with Thing One I had one at 41+4, when i was 2cm, at 8pm, had cramps immediately afterwards and loads of show. Labour started at 11pm and he was born after 10am next day), I had no show this time and no cramps. Bugger. We got home and went for a 2-3 mile walk into Farnworth, then had a clary sage bump rub and went for a nap. Still no cramps, no even a stitch! In fact the only pain was from my poor decrepit pelvis which was rather miffed at the walk.
At about 6.50pm i noticed I was getting totally painless tightenings, about 10 mins apart. By 7.15pm they seemed to get stronger so we decided to bath Thing One and get him to bed. I was most insistant that he was safely and happily tucked up in bed before I'd even entertain the idea of labour. By 7.30 i was in tears, clutching onto door frames in absolute agony unable to move/talk whilst The Husband was in a mad panic trying to bath/dress Thing One and put him to bed, knowing that his wife, who never cries, was in tears of agony. I Called The Mother and told her to get a round quickly. I'd pre-warned her after my sweep to share the news that it was highly likely I'd be in labour that night, they knowingly embarked upon a normal evening of wine rendering The Father unable to drive. Stupid Bastards. I'd warned them. They knew. It's okay, she'd rely in a taxi. I called hospital and they said to dial 999. Bloke on the 999 line timed my contractions and said they were a minute apart. Twatwaffles. Ambulance showed up and as I insisted on going to Hope hospital, where Thing One was born and not Bolton Hospital (which was only 10-15 minutes away) they put the flashies on and bombed it down the road to the hospital on the proviso I kept my legs firmly crossed. I was having about 4-5 contractions in a space of five minutes on top of each other. There are quite simply no words to possibly explain the intensity and agony of this. They offered me gas and air but I hated it when I had Thing One, only had three puffs and said 'gas and air is the only thing that tastes worse then my breath right now so no thanks!'
When we got to the delivery ward we were shown into a room (not a patch on the room we had with e Thing One which had it's own bathroom!, this was more akin to a medical cell) I was told I was 6cm and asked what pain relief I wanted....I said diamorphine (like i had with Thing One). I was fucking petrified everything had happened so fast and with no warning. No labour to full on labour, no cramps or tingles just pain and panic. Understandably It shook me up, the absolute loss of control and the lack of warm up was simply petrifying. Whilst waiting for her to finish writing up my notes my eyes were drawn towards the gas and air and I thought 'fuck it, gimmie some' What a difference from last time, the act of having to physically stimulate the admission of it gave me something to focus on, something for my breathing to focus on. What can I say? wow. I loved it....bloody fabulous stuff. I can liking the feeling only to being stoned. Next came the Diamorphine. I was as close to Zen as could be expected. Mellow, trippy and calm. Naturally, The Husband was terribly envious. Then came the talking and wholly hell did I talk, I talked The Husband's ears off and all the mw's ears too....I even got the giggles. It was 8pm when i arrived at the hospital or there abouts.
At around 11pm, I really needed to pee so hauled myself up and with the help of dean waddled to the bathroom across the corridor, who's genius idea was it to not have a bathroom in the room? It was in the bathroom that I found out I was bleeding.
The MW started a trace on baby who was fine, but said she was worried as the bleeding signified that the placenta was starting to come away, if that had happened baby would have no oxygen. Fuck. What a way to bring someone on an immediate and terrifying come down.
She did another internal (I can't even remember her name, how frightfully sluttish) to check my waters hadn't gone, and said I had no cervix left, it was just bulging waters. Not even I took a moment to imagine that, just well...no. Once again it would appear that my waters have not read the script and seem incapable of bursting themselves, so, she burst them. Although old, the waters still had meconium within it so combined with the pleading she instantly told me to start pushing.er. I never felt this at all with Thing One and none surprisingly neither did I feel it this time. They say it's like the urge to take a shit, I only ever felt an urge to piss. Just bear down and push! she urged. Righty-o. Three pushes later and more than my fair share of prehistoric vocalisations, at volume, she was born. Just like that.
Thing Two was absolutely furious when she was born.....and screamed for ages. Even when quiet. whenever her eyes open she looked absurdly grumpy and terrifically pissed off. I still joke that she came out screaming and didn't stop for months for that is exactly what it felt like.
She wasn't tremendously enamored with the entire feeding issue yet showed considerable more willingness to try than Thing One ever did. I'm convinced this was merely the effects of the pain relief I had in labour.
I had a few stitches, don't know where exactly and can't say finding out was top of my priority list of things to do. What I do remember was The Husband, in tears, and me kissing the top of Thing Two's head repeatedly, as if some physical mantra that couldn't be broken yet necessitated the repetitive behaviour. She was simply perfect. She had some hair which was a marvel as Thing One hardly had any at all until he turned a year old, she was also delightfully pink compared to the dayglo whiteness, then again, it's not surprising, that anger is bound to make her pink.
I was convinced she'd weigh about 7lbs.......how wrong was I! 8lb 15oz!
Thankfully they had a single room available albeit at a cost of £30 ( though they never did invoice me for this) although they only allowed The Husband to stay one more hour before cruelly kicking him out into the cold.
She lost interest in feeding and as I have ridiculously large knockers and massive nips (which mw said are fab for bf'ing?! Oh such a flirt) she had trouble latching on.
We were all set to leave the next morning, started discharge papers and then we were told............we had to stay another night. Despite me having two anti-d jabs in pregnancy, they found rh- antibodies in her rh+ blood (if you've never had an anti-d this can lead to a very nasty, often fatal, disease in newborns) and they wanted to keep her under obs, if she went yellow they would have to do liver tests etc. They took some blood from her heal to test liver functions....she howled and howled....especially as he kept squeezing it to fill a lil vile. Bastard sadist. I dream of having a six hour discharge, I'm destined to be kept prisoner.
Thankfully she didn't go yellow and by the late afternoon on the Saturday we were allowed home.
Thing One visited on the Friday and it nearly broke my heart. I left my baby boy at home on Thursday and on Friday this small child came into my room. He hadn't misses me at all and he seemed to have aged so much, he seemed massive, and different and I felt like I'd missed months not mere days of his life and development.
On the Friday night I was so close to bottle feeding, yet in the end we breastfed, without a single bottle, for two years and ten months.
For those that are worried, your love doesn't split when you have another baby, it multiplies.
Don't worry, only one more birth story to go then no more until later this year when Moomin will join us.