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Thursday, October 11, 2012

Labour of love - part 5

So, I was almost fully dilated... when The Worst Backache In the World Ever kicked in.  This wasn't like the backache I'd had during pregnancy; this was exclusively down my right-hand side, low down, almost in the bone, near my hip.  Despite the (vast) amount of painkillers I'd taken, this was something special.

"More... epidural..." I begged Debbie the midwife.  Debbie said that epidural wasn't effective against backache.  Even in my drugged state, this sounded like something of a lie.

"Shall I massage it?" asked TheBloke (TM), ever keen to be helpful, and whipping out the little vibrating hand massager he'd brought with him.

Suffice it to say that I had brought a lot of stuff with me that we didn't end up using.  This included, but was not limited to:


  • A TENS machine (not so much pain relief as a different sort of mild pain to take your mind off it.  A bit like trying to focus on the rabbit gently licking your arm, rather than the fact that your leg is being sawn off with a rusty spoon.)
  • A music system to play my "birth playlist" during labour.  To be honest, the playlist was full of songs I knew TheBloke (TM) hated, mostly out of spite, and because I knew I'd get my own way.  The drugs meant I had my own sountrack.
  • Lipbalm.  Everyone said I needed lipbalm.  Perhaps they meant "morphine".
  • A hair band.  Again, everyone said I'd need to tie my hair back.  For what?  In case I decided to bake some muffins midway through the experience?  I don't think so.
  • Birthing ball.  Yes, because what I'd like to do now you've effectively paralysed my legs and hooked me up to a drip, is to balance on a fucking ball like a performing seal.
It was about this time that I heard the woman in the next room (either someone who had refused any pain medication (fool) or else a complete wuss) scream with a profundity that has stayed with me, "This is a curse."  Even through the backache, it made me chuckle.  I'm not sure why.

The backache went on for a while, and it was excruciating.  They wouldn't give me any more drugs.  Then suddenly, Debbie said, "You can have more epidural if you want."

"I thought you said I couldn't?"

"I just wanted to see if you could do without it.  Do you want it?"

"Yes," I screamed, "yes, yes, yes.  I want to kiss you.  Can I kiss you?  Oh, that's not sexual harassment by the way.  Sorry."

More epidural was delivered, Debbie went home at 8 a.m., leaving Pooja in her place, and lo it was suddenly time to start pushing.

Except I had had so much epidural I had no idea if I was pushing or not.  "Push," encouraged Pooja and TheBloke (TM).

"Am I pushing?" I asked.  "Oh dear," I said.  "I think I'm going to be sick."

And I was.  If you've never seen a McDonalds apple pie in reverse, it looks a lot like a McDonalds apple pie the right way round.

I was told the baby was halfway down the birth canal - I was doing good pushing, but unfortunately the baby's heart-rate kept dropping on the monitor.  This wasn't a massive problem (indeed, it's designed to do this), so long as it came up again, which it did.

Until suddenly it didn't.

There's a big red button on the wall.  The midwife asked TheBloke (TM) to press it.  Suddenly - and I mean suddenly - there were literally about ten people in the room.  One of them introduced herself as the consultant surgeon and examined me.  She told me the baby's head was facing the wrong way, the baby was effectively stuck and she was going to try and turn her manually.

And yes, manually does mean "by hand".

It hurt.  Too much to continue.

With the baby's heart-rate dangerously low, we were told they'd take me into theatre, give me more anaesthetic, try to rotate her manually again, and if that didn't work, it would be forceps, and if that didn't work, it would be a C-section.

I was made to sign paperwork that I had no chance of reading, and was told that if they needed to give me a hysterectomy to save my life, they would.  That was scary.

I was wheeled down the corridor in my bed, TheBloke (TM) following behind.  He wasn't allowed in theatre to start with - was handed scrubs and told to wait.  I kept asking for him, and was told he'd be in shortly.  Neither of us has any sense of time over how long this part took.  Eventually TheBloke (TM) was allowed into the room.

I was given more anaesthetic and the consultant tried again to manually rotate the baby.  It didn't hurt me this time, but the baby was not for turning.  Then forceps.  Still no joy.  The baby was stuck like a fat piglet with its head trapped.

At this point, TheBloke (TM) was sent out of the room again.  It was C-section time.

Pooja shaved my pubes.

And on that sentence, stay tuned for the final episode.

2 comments:

Sara said...

I'm glad I already know your baby is ok, otherwise I'd be crying by the end of this post!
I can't believe all you went through, scary! Glad you're ok :)

Anonymous said...

Have you added Debbie as a Facebook Friend yet?