I cannot recall if we listened to music or the radio on the way to the hospital. All I remember about the drive was how empty the streets were. It was a no red lights, no traffic, dream run down Punt Road, across the bridge and past the MCG. Oh, those contractions, they were steady and going longer and making me feel so nauseas. At that stage I was coping with them by wincing around in the seat trying to get comfortable, there was no getting comfortable though. Imagine a full term pregnant woman in the front seat of a VW Golf with the seat adjusted forward almost as far as it can go to make way for the baby capsule.
There was no getting comfortable.
We finally reached the hospital and parked right out the front.
The front gates were locked as per protocol so I pressed on the intercom and they let us in. We bypassed reception and went straight up to Delivery Suite. I was literally praying in the elevator that I wouldn't see anyone I knew, thankfully I didn't.
Did I mention that prior to coming in I'd done my make up?
Yes, yes I did.
My theory through the whole pregnancy was if I look better I will feel better.
Did my theory work out?
No idea.
Would I do it again?
Yes.
Anyway, back to the story.
When we got to the Delivery Suite we were taken to our delivery room. I collapsed on the bed and asked for pain relief and an anti emetic. The midwife promised she would be back and five minutes later she returned to do my admission.
Basically my admission involved me writhing around on the bed and tensing up, this is how I'd been dealing with the pain up until that moment. My midwife told me to relax, which was what I was trying to do I just had no concept of how to - all I could think about was the pain.
Then I focused on a spot in the room and breathed.
Big, deep, concentrated breaths.
I'd found my way to relax through contractions. I was by no means pain free but I was focusing and not tensing up.
With my admission completed my midwife left the room to get me my sweet, sweet salvation.
Pain relief come to me!
Anti emetic come to me!
She returned a few minutes later with a dose of Morphine and some Zofran. A couple of jabs later and she was out of the room, but not before telling me to get some sleep.
It must have been about 4am when Hamish and I were finally alone. Just Hamish, myself and the contractions. The Morphine helped a little, not drastically, but enough to take a bit of the edge off. To be honest I think my breathing helped the most. As soon as a contraction came on (which was every 15 minutes almost to the dot) I'd pick a focus point and breath, breath, breath. Not fast, not to slow, just steady and deep.
In between contractions I'd get up and walk around, go to the toilet, change my pad which was becoming more and more blood and fluid stained and look at Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. Anything to get my mind off things. I drank lots of water too, water spiked with Bickford's Lime Cordial which I had the sense to pack. Yes, I packed a bottle of cordial the sweet tang was so nice and made drinking easier.
The Morphine only lasted a couple of hours and in that time the contractions became stronger. I pushed through by breathing and concentrating. If anyone had of looked in on the room they probably would have thought I was going mad. Hamish managed to get some sleep on the massive armchair in the room while all of this was going on. I didn't sleep. It just wasn't going to happen.
At around 8am my obstetrician came and said he was going to break my waters and commence Oxytocin. The final two steps for my induction. There is nothing private about labour. The midwives try very hard to maintain your dignity but really, at the end of the day everybody is fiddling around down there. You don't care though, as long as everything is progressing the way it should and there are no problems, then you just do not care.
So my obstetrician went to business downstairs and first checked to see how dilated I was - 4cm. I was almost half way and I had no idea. Amazing. Then he broke my waters in the process pulling some of Orlando's hair out. He put it onto my right arm so I could see it. All of a sudden there was a part of him - outside of me. A few little dark brown hairs about an inch long. Amazing.
There was no gush of water when they were broken, no flooding of the room. I had kind of suspected they had broken earlier because my pads were always soaked but when my OB said he was breaking them I expected the Niagra Falls to come crashing down. I asked my obstetrician afterwards if they had already broken and he said they most likely had.
After my waters 'broke' my obstetrician then needed to put an IV into my right hand for the Oxytocin. A tiny sting and the cannula was in and ready for the medication. I was warned then that the contractions would probably become much stronger and more frequent very quickly. I'll be honest, it put the fear of God in me. The contractions were already painful, cramping period pain like someone was pushing a massive, wide ice pick into my pelvic area. How could they possibly get worse?
Just after the Oxytocin went up the wrath of a thousand suns all of a sudden rained down on me. If I thought the contractions were bad before they were epic now. I'd read somewhere that a contraction was akin to 20 bones breaking in your body at the same time. How someone came up with this I have NO idea. It's not like 20 bones breaking in your body. I've really got nothing to compare the pain to - there is nothing like it that I've ever experienced. Naturally, I asked for more pain relief. This time the midwife gave me Pethidine and suggested the gas, it was also suggested that maybe I think about an epidural.
I'd been vehemently opposed to an epidural. It's not for me I said, why would I want a needle in my back. So I was more than happy to give the gas a go but refused the epidural.
The gas is delivered through a tube that you suck on. I had to breath in one big deep breath and then exhale equally during a contraction.
It made me feel so, so sick.
It was awful.
I think I tried to have it through maybe 10 contractions but I just couldn't do it. When I first put the mask on Hamish was convinced that it would work really well for me - it failed miserably.
With the gas not working and the Pethidine and Morphine not holding my pain I finally gave in. Apart from when Orlando was actually born this was the only time I cried. I was so, so, so tired. I'd been awake for over 24 hours, I was exhausted. I was in tears and said to the midwife that I didn't want to have an epidural, I wanted to do it all with as little intervention as possible. Physically though, my body just couldn't do it anymore. The contractions were too strong, so strong and I didn't have the strength to deal with them. All I wanted to do was sleep for a thousand years but that was not an option. So, in tears and with a feeling like I was giving up I gave in and said yes to the epidural.
It was the best birthing decision I made.
The midwives left the room to organise the anaesthetist and came back 2 minutes later to say he would be up straight away to put it in.
Literally 5 minutes later my amazing, amazing anaesthetist was in my room. He said he would put the epidural in and then I would be able to SLEEP. Hearing this was like angels singing. He explained things very clearly to both myself and Hamish and then left the room to prepare for the procedure.
To Be Continued....