Once I'd moved across to the delivery room, it suddenly hit me that I was going to have a baby! Much to my dismay though, I still wasn't in that much pain and Mr C was incredibly calm and composed. My first mistake however was getting onto the bed; once there, I didn't move!
As many people had told me prior to labour; my birth plan went well and truely out of the window. The midwife didn't even look at it and it was the last thing on my mind! Originally, I wanted an active labour where I birthed on bean bags on the floor and used a birthing ball to encourage baby to move down. At one point, I laughed at the sheer rediculous-ness of that & told the midwife that there was no way on God's Earth I was leaving the comfort of that bed!
I changed into my 'birthing outfit'; a beach dress from Primark, and the midwife asked me what I wanted in terms of pain relief. I opted for gas & air however, to be honest, I don't think it worked! I didn't really feel any different but the action of using and holding it in my hands during a contraction was a real comfort. Mr C even had a sneaky go but said that he felt no different! Further on into my labour when the midwife suggested giving the gas & air up, I laughed in her face and refused to let go! I was saying 'someone's turned my gas off!' and 'tell the woman in the room next door to stop using my gas & air because I can't taste it!'. Madness!
At 11pm, as well as gas & air, the midwife gave me an injection of diamorphine. Originally, I felt reserved towards using this as it can pass through to baby and make them drowsy once born however the midwife assured me that I had time to let the diamorphine pass before baby was going to be delivered therefore it would be out of my system by then. I started to have all of my pain in my back (exactly the same as my mum's labour with me!) and it felt like someone was twisting a knife in it, causing me to writhe around the bed in pain so the diamorphine was a welcome relief from the pain! It was still there but somehow, I didn't really care that much about it and at points, I even fell asleep during contractions which meant I could re-fuel my energy before pushing. On occasions, I was that relaxed that I thought we were on holiday! Apparantly I asked Mr C if we were going to the water park and whether he was enjoying his holiday in the sun!
During the night, I dozed and chatted with Mr C whilst he ate Greggs pasties all chilled! I vividly recall looking over at him and he'd reclined his seat back and was fast asleep like he was at home!
I kept focussing on the fact that I could have another shot of diamorphine at 3am so watched the clock on count down mode. The midwife had turned the lights down and the whole atmosphere was strangely serene and peaceful. I remember thinking 'this isn't so bad afterall' whilst in a lovely diamorphine fuelled haze! As it wore off, I was asking for more so at 3am, the midwife performed another examination before she was to give me another injection. She asked us how far dilated we thought I was and myself and Mr C agreed on 7cm. We were overjoyed when she told us I was 10cm dilated! She informed us that baby C wasn't quite in optimum position yet but to get myself ready because it wouldn't be long before I was to push!
At that point, I proceeded to absolutely shit myself (not literally!) and begged her for an epidural even though I wasn't in that much pain! The midwife simply laughed and said I'd coped with the pain amazingly and there was no way I needed an epidural and besides, it was way too late! I'd convinced myself that I was going to have a shoulder distocia because of his predicted size and I was resigned to the fact that he was going to get stuck. Mr C was an absolute star at this point and calmed me right down whilst massaging my feet and spraying my face with a cooling water spray.
At around 3.45am, our lovely midwife came in accompanied by another midwife and told me that my baby was going to be born! I started to push at around 4am although I never actaully got that urge. I'd been told prior to labour that i'd feel an overwhelming urge to push but that never came. Pushing was hard, hard, hard work! At times I felt like it was never going to end and giving up was the only option. It seemed like he didn't want to arrive and even though his head kepy peeking out, he'd quickly retreat back inside, much to my frustration.
Mr C was such an encouragement and when I felt like I could do no more, seeing the excitement on his face made me summon up strength from somewhere I never knew existed. He kept telling me that we were going to meet our baby soon and our family would be complete which somehow made things easier. With a little help from an episiotomy (ouch!), I managed to give birth to my (not so little) 10lbs 1/2 ozbundle of joy at 4.55am on 2.9.12.
The midwife passed him straight up onto my chest and I remember saying 'hello Freddie, you're so beautiful Freddie!' The midwife said "don't you want to double check he's a boy first?" jokingly however I panicked and said to Mr C "I don't want a girl, I want my Freddie!"
I was elated to find that I did indeed have my Freddie and what I joy he is!
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