Arriving at the labour ward of Chester hospital on Christmas Eve afternoon felt like entering a deserted ship.
Normally the whole maternity unit of the Countess of Chester hospital is a hive of activity with machines buzzing and beeping, people dashing here, there and everywhere, a million conversations all happening a once and it mainly resembling organised chaos! The Labour Ward itself is normally like entering some type of torture chamber within a prison. Whoever designed it should be made to spend more than half an hour in there! The ceilings are really low so it is extremely hot and the screaming women in labour seems to echo off each wall. The midwives also turn the heartbeat monitors on full volume so that they can sit at the midwives station drinking tea whilst also listening to baby's heartbeat, situated in a room 5 miles down the corridor. Couple that with the alarms going off for women who are feeling pretty desperate at being in such pain with no assistance and you get a nightmare! It is shaped like a '7' with numerous doors leading off each side. The vertical corridor being for assessment (Unless you are 4cm dilated, you do NOT leave that corridor under any circumstances (!!!) and the horizontal corridor being the Mecca that you wish to enter, meaning that there is no turning back and baby is coming!
On Christmas Eve, there were 3 midwives sat at the reception desk with all of them jumping up as I entered the ward, eager to be the one chosen to look after me in order to relieve the boredom.
Sat in that small box of an assessment room on Christmas Eve afternoon was proof enough that hospitals are to be avoided at Christmas. It became even more depressing when the midwife examined me and said I showed no signs of being ready. What about that 'show' at Anna's birthday party? Surely that must have softened something up? It appears not!! I showed no signs whatsoever! This was exactly what happened with Anna but then I had the excuse that Anna was a week early. This one was 2 weeks overdue and still had no made attempt to make a break for freedom.
The midwife then explained the induction procedure (exactly as it was with Anna). Basically, they would insert a pessary every 6 hours with a maximum of 3 being allowed. If I still showed absolutely no signs of dilating after that, I would be heading for a c-section. If I hadn't gone into established labour but showed any sign of dilation after the 3rd attempt at a pessary, they would manually break my waters. With Anna, they had to do exactly that, which took ages as they were really busy on the day that I was induced (17th November 2006) so left it longer than 6 hours between pessaries so it was eventually 33 hours between the start of induction and actually having Anna (although only 4 hours in actual labour).
It is so incredibly frustrating when they insert this thing inside and then nothing happens. I realise that I am continuously drawing comparisons with torture (can you tell what this birth story is going to end up like???) but that is really what it must feel like, especially on your second birth. You have a good idea of the pain that is coming your way in a few short hours and you just want it over and done with but NOTHING is happening while you sit in a small windowless room with no TV... on Christmas Eve, while your 5 year old daughter is at home all excited about Christmas Day, spending it albeit with cherished grandparents but not you!!!
My maths isn't great but even I could work out that 2am Christmas Day would be my final lot of pessary and 8am would be the judgement as to whether they could break my waters. This was definitely looking like a Christmas Day baby. I had even worked out that I might get to see Anna on Christmas day if she was allowed to come and visit me. A 4 hour labour (like Anna's where contractions started literally 2 mins after my waters breaking and giving birth 4 hours later) would mean a midday birth this time and visiting hours didn't finish until 8pm so I might get to see BOTH of my 2 daughters on Christmas Day.
It didn't get off to the greatest start after they had inserted the first pessary at 2pm as 'Little Miss' decided that she wanted a party. After having a pessary, they have to put you on a monitor to ensure that your body or the baby hasn't reacted badly to it. Baby hadn't reacted badly to it at all, just decided that this was the best thing ever and decided to kick me so much that my tummy ached. She went that mental that the midwife just couldn't get her to keep still long enough to take any reading. I had to press a little button every time I felt baby move but after half an hour of leaving my finger permanently on the button, the midwife took it off me and said that she could see it kicking without the need for any button. In fact, the midwife started to get concerned so called for a consultant who equally looked completely perplexed. The only thing that we could put it down to was the Christmas Dinner that I had in the pub before heading to hospital. With hindsight, it probably was not a great idea to have a big meal an hour before getting induced but there was no way that I was missing out on my Christmas dinner. After the consultant continued to be amazed at my daughter who was going bonkers, he ruled that he would give me another hour of being kicked manically and then make a decision about how to proceed if she hadn't calmed down. He had no concerns about the health of the baby as he just figured that she had got high on turkey and cranberry sauce but he was concerned that all this kicking would be exhausting me as my tummy literally was moving from side to side with every kick which were coming at several per second! He even suggested I may want gas and air but it wasn't hurting me at all although I just felt like I was on a rocking ship in a storm!
Throughout the last few weeks of pregnancy, as induction looked more and more of a likely outcome, James had been reminding me that this labour couldn't possibly be as bad as Anna's. In every textbook you read, an induced labour where waters are manually broken, a drip is inserted to heighten contractions unnaturally and a back-to-back baby (their back is lying against your spine which makes the pain worse due to rubbing against nerve endings) is the worst kinds of labour you can have in terms of pain. With Anna, I had all of that. So, whilst sat in that room, I was repeating the mantra to myself that this labour was going to be easier. This baby wasn't back-to-back (as checked at the scan 3 days earlier) and she was 2 weeks overdue so more likely to be ready to come out. Imagine my complete horror then when the midwife was feeling my tummy and said 'Oh No, I think she has turned'. The poor midwife's face suddenly turned white as she explained
"I think your baby is back-to-back and breech (legs first)" she said
"What would that mean?" I uttered nervously.
"We won't panic yet" continued the midwife "but it would probably mean emergency c-section".
A portable scan machine was quickly found in record time and, after 3 midwives had crowded round my bed, they thankfully informed me that baby was still head down so not breech but that the little monkey had turned during the 'party' that she was having and so was now back-to-back. I just looked at James and said 'There goes my easier labour flying out of the window'. I told you that this baby was not great for timing and deciding to turn back-to-back whilst having a party during the final hours of pregnancy just confirms it!
Thankfully, little monkey did calm down after her kick about for 3 HOURS and the second pessary went in at 8pm.
The last pessary was due at 2am but unfortunately that never happened. The midwife who was looking after me overnight had already explained that she had two children waiting for her at home and they weren't allowed to open their presents until she arrived home from her night shift, which finished at 8am. She even told me that she was leaving as soon as that clock turned 8am. My guess is that she had read my notes and realised that my waters would probably have to be broken around 8am if this labour went the same as Anna's. She just didn't want to have to be doing that whilst she could be getting home to her children. Therefore, she helpfully informed me that it was 'probably best if I don't give you your pessary at 2am because that would mean I have to wake you up. We will just leave it now until the morning'. Aghhhhhhhh! There was no way that i was going to sleep anyway in this hot stupid prison and, anyway, it doesn't take too long to shove a pessary inside plus I had got used to midwives manhandling me by that stage so I was hardly going to care!!! Of course, I understand that she wanted to get home to her children but she still had a job to do and I was having to miss my 5 year old daughters entire Christmas Day so the least she could do was bother to just insert a bloody small white tablet! Alas, no! She finally decided to insert the bloody thing at 6am. I think she thought it was a pretty safe bet that this one wouldn't be doing anything too quickly as my cervix still hadn't budged AT ALL so she could go home on time without me causing any great hassle.
At 9am, James returned. He had been sent home for the night as partners are no longer allowed to stay with their induced wives if not in established labour. I disagree with that policy, not because i necessarily needed him there but if I have to suffer the loss of dignity and uncomfortable nature of it all, the least that the menfolk could do is have to sleep on an uncomfortable mattress next to their whinging woman!!! On second thoughts, it was probably best that he did go home as James just snored loudly when we were waiting for labour to start with Anna whilst I wanted to shout at him for daring to sleep whilst the lack of progression meant I was unable to sleep due to the adrenalin, anticipation and fear building inside me. To be honest though, I was really pleased that James had been home for a decent nights sleep as it meant that he could be more 'with it' whilst supporting me (James is terrible without sleep. If he has ever had to get up in the middle of the night, which is very rare, he has always sent half the furniture flying as he crashes into it and I can't get one coherent word out of him, hence why he has never once done a night feed!!!). More importantly though, going home also meant that he could see Anna on Christmas morning. Anna had other ideas though. James woke her up on Christmas morning to tell her that Mummy was fine and that Father Christmas had been to deliver more presents from Nanny to which she took one look at him and said 'Later Daddy, must sleep'. To be fair, her excitement of Christmas Day had been the day before so she was exhausted and had to refuel before having another day of excitement!
Being Christmas Day, I fully expected the staff to be jovial and in high spirits, not to make the patients feel happier about being in the ward on Christmas Day but also to make their Christmas Day feel a little nicer! I was wrong! My midwife for the day greeted me in the morning with a 'Why on earth have they left this place in such a mess'? When I dared to say 'Happy Christmas' to her, she just looked at me and said 'I'm afraid it is just another same old day inside the Countess of Chester walls'. That was me told! At least the catering staff had made the effort and gave us all a 'Full English' breakfast, complete with congealed scrambled egg and limp sausage. Oh, and a cracker! I didn't put the party hat on for fear of offending the midwives!
James and I spent Christmas morning looking out of a dirty window, trying to spot any turkey related accidents coming into A and E but it really was like a ghost town with 2 cars in the car park and NOBODY about. Really eerie... and boring! (It appears that the car parking attendants had remembered it was Christmas too as there was a sign on the car parking meter saying 'No car parking fees today. Happy Xmas'. I wish someone from catering or car parking had come and informed the midwives.
At 11am, I was examined and told that I was 1 or 2cm dilated so they would attempt to break my waters. 'Great, at last something was happening' I thought. By 12.30pm, still nobody had come until the 'just another day' midwife came and plonked a tray down on my bedside table with something that resembled a Christmas dinner and said
"We want to break your waters down in the delivery rooms because of how fast it all happened after your waters broke with your first baby but there are 2 women who have come in who are in established labour so they get to go down before you. Plus there is a lady who needs an emergency c-section so you have to wait until after those 3 ladies have had their babies and providing nobody else comes in who is in labour, then we will break your waters'.
OH MY GOD!!!!! It is Christmas Day and I am having to sit here in this hell of a room and wait until 3 strangers have had their babies before I even get to walk to a different room! For all I knew, I could be stuck in this room for another 24 hours. It was so incredibly frustrating.
Thankfully, the 3 women must have been as keen as me to get out of that place because at 2pm, they finally told me I could go to the delivery room.
I was introduced to the midwife who was going to look after me, once in established labour, and thankfully she was lovely. She said that she was going to attempt to break my waters but if she couldn't, I would have to wait another 6 hours to see if I dilated naturally before having another go. At that point, I just looked at James and wanted to cry before then wanting to swipe that long hook (the one that was about to be inserted and yanked about!) out of her hand and have a go myself! She kept apologising that this procedure would really hurt and be much worse than a sweep (filling my heart with joy!!) but she really needn't have because her technique was like having the most soothing massage compared to the sour-faced cow who had done my sweep (See earlier post and yes, I am still calling her a sour faced cow. Sorry!)
Exactly like it was with Anna, my waters broke and it was only half an hour or so before the contractions started. Due to the fact that they had to manually break my waters, they instantly put me on a drip which the midwife kept turning the pressure up every half an hour. The reason that the drip is meant to make labour so much more painful is because, with natural contractions, they build up slowly so that your body has time to produce and release endorphins that are natural pain killers. With a drip, the contractions become extremely painful very quickly as they are not natural so the body has no time to release the 'happy hormones' which are the pain killers.
With Anna, I had an epidural at 4cm dilated and I certainly wasn't against having one this time but I had set myself the challenge that I would get to 6cm as 4cm did feel a little bit of a cop out as it is only just established labour then!! To help me with my aim, I had decided that we would play a game where me and James would take turns to go through the alphabet naming different things starting with that letter based on a certain theme. You may scoff as you read this but it was actually working! I did feel a little bit of a prat though when a really cool young trendy midwife came to look after us when the normal midwife went for a break. We were halfway though naming films on the alphabet game. She had already helped us out with a film earlier on the alphabet which was really cool and modern. Then it was my turn to name a film beginning with 's'. With hindsight, I could easily name some intellectual and sophisticated films beginning with 's' but, in the height of a contraction, I could only think of one and in my endeavour to get the game moving again, i said 'Spice Girls the movie'. Oh the shame! They say you lose your dignity in pregnancy but I never thought it would be at the hands of the Spice Girls!!
Before long, I felt the need for Gas and Air. I had loved it with Anna's labour because, even though I had an epidural, the pain was still very fierce in my back and down my right leg due to her being back-to-back (They did warn me that epidurals are less effective in back-to-back labours). The Gas and Air took the edge off the pain in my leg and made me feel slightly drunk too!
I should have guessed that this was going to be so much worse when they gave me the Gas and I was convinced that it wasn't working. I asked the midwife to check that it was all attached properly but she assured me it was.
The pain was rapidly getting worse (even thinking about it now is actually making me feel physically sick!) and the worst of it was shooting down my legs. There are no words to describe it. The nearest I can come is that it felt like someone was shoving a million knives in my back every time I had a contraction. In my head though, all I could think was 'It has only been an hour since my waters broke. I can't be 4cm dilated yet'. So I continued to suck furiously on that Gas and Air whilst gnawing the tube off at the same time. No stupid alphabet game was going to distract me now!
Very quickly, I decided that I didn't care whether I was 4cm dilated or even still 1cm, I was going to ask for an epidural. I asked the midwife what I had to do to request one and she said all I had to say was the word 'go'.
"Go, go, go". I uttered before another contraction started to build. She phoned the anaesthetist and she had said she would be there in 10 mins.
It actually turned out to be 20 mins which was the longest 20 mins of my life. I kept asking whether she was here yet and they kept saying 'Not long Louise'. Every time a contraction would subside, I would think 'Right, time to catch my breath and say something at James' and as immediately as I thought it, another one would hit! At the beginning, it had almost been a game to time how long the contraction would hit its peak but now there seemed to be no release. I was on the stupid monitors because I had been induced and so I had no choice but to stay on my back but, with each contraction, I had an overwhelming urge to get up and run (My body's way of coping with the pain, I guess, as I never get the urge to run normally!) so all I ended up doing was squirming uncontrollably on the bed.
It was towards the end of that 20 mins that i suddenly started to feel the urge to push. Unlike Anna where I was convinced she was coming, this time I had convinced myself that i just needed the toilet. I didn't believe that it could be happening so quickly that I would be having my baby. I think some of that is due to the denial that I had been in for the last 9 months so I was still forcing myself to believe that this wasn't happening. I kept apologising and saying "I'm really sorry but I have to push. I think i just need to do a poo" (Who in their right mind says that to a virtual stranger except when in the midst of labour when all dignity and sanity have gone flying out of the window!). The midwife just took my word for it and said "OK, just push if you have to" like i had just announced that I was making a cup of tea!! At first, I fought the urge, thinking that I couldn't possibly go to the toilet on the bed in public but once the pain kicks in, you just have to resolve it in your own head by saying 'If you want to survive this pain, you have to let it go'. As it turns out, I didn't need the toilet anyway. This was the baby coming although we didn't know that for a while yet as I continued to push at each contraction with everyone, including the midwife, believing it couldn't possibly be the baby yet and just the worst case of constipation ever!!!
I never believed that anyone could be in as much pain and not die. I had no choice in the end but to start screaming. I honestly believe that if I hadn't screamed, i would have passed out as my body had to release it somehow. As I started groaning in pain, I suddenly had a flashback to my mum watching TV programmes where the woman screamed during labour and my mum saying "What a fuss. It isn't that bad. They are just making a mountain out of a mole hill". Oh dear. Sorry mum but I screamed... loudly!!! At one point, I tried to utter the words 'I promise to go and apologise to every single person on this ward afterwards' but the pain had even taken away my power of speech so it came out as a list of random syllables.
Suddenly the anetheitist appeared and I have never been so glad to see anyone in all my life. Unfortunately that was a short-lived feeling as she quickly became the person that I have never disliked so much in all my life. She took one look at me and said "I think we had better examine her to see how dilated she is". The midwife even dared to argue with her and said "I can't see the point as it has only been a short while after her waters have been manually broken and I have not even had time to turn the drip up again". Luckily the anaesthetist insisted that I was examined before she would agree to give me an epidural.
It was then that I heard the midwife say 'Oh Gosh, she is 9cm' and start rushing around the room manically. At this point, the pain had made me unable to think or comprehend so I saw that she was racing around but didn't really acknowledge it. "OK, epidural now please" I said. The anaesthetist smiled and said "No, I don't think so"
"Yes, I think so" I said
"No, there is no point" she replied.
Now I would like to think that you would describe me as softly spoken, polite, well mannered and kind to everybody. On this occasion, I became some ranting witch. It was like I was drunk, knowing what I was saying but couldn't stop myself. My only saving grace was that I didn't swear or call her names.
"THERE IS EVERY POINT. I AM GOING TO DIE FROM THE PAIN AND YOU ARE STOOD THERE SAYING NO. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. HOW CAN I MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THIS PAIN IS GOING TO KILL ME AND YOU ARE GOING TO STAND THERE DOING NOTHING...'
Of course, all of that was said in between huge sucks of Gas and Air and lots more sobbing.
I was still ranting when she came and stood right next to me, put her arms on my shoulders and said 'Louise, you need to calm down so I can explain'. I continued to rant until James said 'Lou, just listen for a minute and then start shouting again'. The anaesthetist then calmly explained that the setting up and administering of an epidural takes half an hour. By that time, the baby will be out so there is no point. I then started sobbing and shouted "BUT YOU CAN'T GUARANTEE THAT. I COULD BE DEAD BY THEN" before turning to James and shouting "YOU KNOW WHAT I'M LIKE JAMES. YOU KNOW I CAN'T DO THIS. TELL THEM WHAT I AM LIKE. IF YOU LOVED ME, YOU WOULD MAKE HER GIVE ME AN EPIDURAL". James just looked at me with fear in his eyes before uttering 'You can do this Lou' as he watched me start to wriggle around the bed before screaming again. Poor James. He was never going to win that one and I was being so unfair. Sorry James (I know you love me really!!!)
So I was left with the Gas and Air. Everytime that the contraction hit a peak, I would scream before James would calmly say 'Gas and Air Lou, gas and air' and I would take a huge suck of it before screaming again and pushing.
Reading this back, you are probably thinking that I was just not coping but I swear that I will never ever judge a woman on how they cope during childbirth after my two experiences. With Anna, it was very animal-like. Before you start thinking 'well, she had an epidural so didn't feel the pain so much', that isn't true. My epidural with Anna had actually run out but they forgot because they were trying to insert hooks in Anna's head to trace her heartbeat better (whilst still inside me) for half an hour (in that half hour, i had 4 different pairs of hands attempting to manhandle my insides. not pleasant) so when I said that I needed to push, they didn't believe me and thought it was in my head. When I kept insisting that i really did have to push and there was no way i could stop it anymore due to the pain, they insisted that I was just needing the toilet and told me not to until they got me a bedpan. They had checked me 10 min previously and I was 4cm. It was only because some good midwife noticed the change in my breathing that she thought she should check and i was 10cm and they suddenly were shouting at me to push. There was no time for an epidural then so i could feel everything but, at no time, did i scream. i just put my chin on my chest and sounded like some very disgruntled albeit loud buffalo as i mooed away.
To illustrate how much I was screaming this time with Eleanor, the midwife just looked at me amazed and said 'You are going to permanently damage your voice box Louise' and I did actually end up with a perforated ear drum and post traumatic stress on my voice for 2 weeks afterwards. (My hearing was so badly affected that everyone's voice sounded like they were gargling water each time they spoke and Peppa Pigs' squeaky voice actually caused me physical pain. No exaggeration!!
When you consider the facts,
1. Back-to-back. 2. Induced 3. On a drip so unnatural contractions 4. Going from 1cm dilated to 10cm dilated in 3 HOURS (meant to be 1cm per hour) 5. Giving birth naturally with no pain relief to a 10lb baby (Yes you read that right - 10lb!!!!)....
I suppose I did have some reason to scream.
It was when the screaming got fever pitch and I really did think I was going to die was when I gave one almighty push and suddenly the pain disappeared as quickly as it came, accompanied by the most wonderful sound ever - my baby girl crying as she entered the world.
I was in labour 3 hours and pushing for 7 minutes. It turns out the anaesthetist was spot on! In fact, very soon after I stopped screaming, she poked her head round the door and said 'is it safe to come in now'. You will be pleased to hear that I apologised profusely and she was completely lovely about it. I even offered to go and apologise to every single person on the ward but they said there really was no need (everyone was too frightened). The midwife who had been looking after me in the assessment room also came to congratulate me and said 'Blimey Louise, it takes you a long while to get going but when you start, look out because you don't hang about'.
The midwives were even more amazed when they went to stitch me up (they had even got the materials out ready) and said 'There are no stitches needed'. The first midwife couldn't believe it so got another to check and then a third came along, just to say she had seen it too!!! Throughout the next 24 hours, every midwife that I met kept asking me if i wanted pain relief and I kept saying 'No thanks' to which they just expressed their surprise. I honestly felt no pain whatsoever except for the ear ache (which turned out to be the perforated ear drum from screaming)
I want it stated for the record that, on my gravestone it is to be written... 'Gave birth to a 10lb baby - NO PAIN RELIEF AND NO STITCHES'. It is my proudest achievement!! (Along with making the 2 most beautiful daughters in the world, with a bit of help from James too!)
As soon as I held my beautiful new daughter in my arms, all of the stress and agony faded away into nothing and I rose to cloud 9 where I have remained ever since.
