I moved onto the bed, ripped anything I was wearing on my lower half off, and began to push.

I don’t remember much of this part except screaming, being told I wasn’t to scream and then screaming anyway. Lets face it with that pain there was no way I wasn’t going to scream!

After 15 minutes I was told, by a surgeon, that if my baby was not out in ten minutes he was wheeling me to theatre and taking over. It turns out that my boy’s heartrate had been dropping and it seemed he was in distress. There was a resuscitaire behind the curtain waiting in case it was needed. I wasn’t too sure of what was going on but I heard the desperation in my other half’s voice and I began to push. It was hard. I kept trying to lift myself up and it was the only way to stop the pain in my back but I was told I had to have butt to bed.

With some assistance from a pair of scissors my son made it into the world. He was a dusky colour which caused some concern, along with some breathing issues, but he was allowed to be placed on me for skin to skin. This appeared to help him and we soon heard a cry. He was then weighed and my partner removed his shirt so he could have some skin to skin. It took a good 45 minutes and two doses of local anaesthetic to sew me back up.

After all the blood and gore was over with, we were left on our own to bond and enjoy our toast and orange juice. We had skin to skin and I attempted to breastfeed, but my poor boy was so sleepy from the Pethidine that he couldn’t latch on. After an hour I was encouraged to have a quick wash and go to the loo. They had to measure my urine to ensure that my kidneys were working fine. I tell you, getting up from that bed with all that blood is awkward! Though a quick wash, fresh smelling hair and some clean clothes, makes you feel really good! I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror. It’s funny how as soon as my waters broke all my swelling disappeared instantly. Looking back at me was a smaller, softer version of myself.

I was given the option of walking back to the maternity ward but I couldn’t do it, I was too weak. I couldn’t even hold my baby, he had to be wheeled in his crib. Midwives congratulated me and the surgeon threatening to cut me open high fived me on our way out.

The student midwife was right, there was going to be a baby before the end of her shift.


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