So Tired

I am so tired that almost every bit of me aches and I’ve gone past the point of wanting to catch up on my sleep.  Tom is thriving even if he appears to have developed colic, he has taken to crying inconsolably for a few hours each day Sunday it was in the afternoon early evening, Monday he was besides himself with tiredness during the morning and cried for a couple of hours and he cried like billio for a while in the evening and today it was the afternoon for about three hours and a bit in the early evening too.

Problem with him crying like that during working hours is that I’m the only one here and I can’t carry him for too long to comfort him because of the c section and it’s distressing for the both of us.

Before that while Simon was still on paternity leave he spent a few days where he would cry miserably for a few hours because he wanted constant feeding which was very hard on me until I bought a book on breastfeeding in self defence  Tom Tips for Breast-Feeding by Claire Byam-Cook which didn’t stop Tom from being a bottomless pit of hunger for those hours but the advice in the book did make it a lot easier to deal with while it lasted.  I know it was only a few days but at the time and really still now it felt like it was going on for ever.

However I must be doing something right with the feeding as Tom was back to his birth weight by day 13 we also measured him and he was 59 cms long by the reckoning of the health visitor which threw her mighterly as that would put him above the 100th percentile for his age.  She was so thrown that she refused to believe her measurement and left the measuring mat behind so that we could measure him during the week at our leisure.  I did manage to do it again a couple of days ago and got a measurement of 57 cms and I wasn’t able to get his legs completely straight either so I don’t think that she was that far out.  However 57 cms isn’t so bad as it puts him on the 91st percentile which is line with his birth weight.  It looks like he’ll be towering over us at some point in the mid 2020s then I can get a cat so that I have something I can look down on.

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Well We Got There

Baby Tom was born at 12:25 Friday afternoon by emergency cesarean after what felt like very long 26 hours plus.  The contractions I had on the third fizzled out into irregularity, so we went up to the hospital Thursday morning for the induction process to begin.

After being booked in at the delivery suite and issued tags they explained what would happen.  An hormone pessary would be inserted in the hope that it would kick start regular useful contractions.  I would be examined after about 6 hours if I was dilating nicely then they would leave it at that and I would be treated like any other woman in labour.  If I hadn’t dilated to their satisfaction then I would have to be put on a drip of syncotocin and be constantly monitored which would mean no pool or “active birth”

6 hours later I was only about two centimetres dilated so it was in with the drip and syncotocin.   At first the contractions weren’t too bad but soon I was reaching for the gas and air which worked well for a while but eventually were not taking the edge off the contractions and we still had a long way to go.  I decided that pain relief was the better part of labour.

It was epidural time.

The epidural was a blessed relief no pain my it did make the skin on my belly feel itchy, no need for the gas and air it was just a waiting game until I was dilated enough for the pushing.  It should have been a restful time except the fetal heart rate had to be monitored constantly so I had two straps around my belly which made me feel even itchier.  But unfortunately the fetal monitor didn’t want to work all the time, so we would get the soothing “swoosh swoosh swoosh” of Tom’s heart for minutes on end then suddenly it would loose the heart rate and the midwife would have to leap up to readjust the pad on my tummy so none of us got any real sleep.

By Friday morning I was at last at the magical 10 cm point and now was the time I should push.  So I pushed and I pushed and I pushed:  for two and a half hours.  The last half hour of pushing was agony they had dropped the level of pain relief from the epidural so that I could feel the urge to push in the hope that it would speed up the baby’s decent down the birth passage.  I couldn’t feel any urge to push at all just the desire for it all to stop now.  Parallel to my trying to push the baby out the midwives had been consulting with the surgeon just in case.  At the one hour point because we were all doing well even if the baby hadn’t moved far we decided to continue as we were but over the next hour I began to tire my pushing became even less effective and the pain was increasing as the epidural wore off.  Towards the end of the second hour I could see that the midwife was getting concerned.  The surgeon was consulted with will he was in theatre conducting another cesarean and shortly after the anaesthetist strolled in with a merry “I hear baby is coming out of the sunroof” which caused the midwife to give him an evil look.  I could have kissed him, he had become my second most favourite person in the room after my husband.  He explained that he would have to give me a local anaesthetic that would be a lot stronger than the epidural had been.

Then the surgeon came in checked the position of the baby and started to apologise about the need for a c section.  I poo pooed that I told the room that it was having a healthy baby that was important not how we got to having the healthy baby.  He told me what would happen and asked me to sign a consent form for the surgery.

I signed.

The anaesthetist hustled people along, Simon disappeared to be dressed up like an extra from ER and I was wheeled down to the theatre.  There they explained again what would happen and what might happen and that there was a chance that the local anesthetic may not have hit all the necessary nerves and in that case I would need a general anesthetic

A blue curtain was put up between my head and the business end, Simon came in and sat down by my head.  A lot of people were introduced who were going to assist with the operation but I don’t remember any of their names.  I could feel pressure being put on my legs I guess they were put into anti DVT blow up splints and some tugging around at my belly.   However before they got too far into the operation I started to feel a very sharp pain down the middle of my pubic bone as if someone was slamming a thin blunt hammer into it. Everything stopped in order to let the anaesthetist check me.  It meant that we had got to the point I hadn’t really considered, having a cesarean whilst under a full general anaesthetic.  They were full of apologies as they prepped me up to for the GA, Simon was hustled out of the theatre his usefulness now gone.  I remember the assistant anaesthetist stroking my forehead as I had a little cry, before they put the oxygen mask on me and the cold running into my right hand.

When I woke up I was in the recovery room with the student midwife who had been with us for the last third of the labour.  I asked where Tom and Simon were, she said that they were just fetching them.  The senior midwife walked in first saying he’s here, he’s got fair hair and such big feet.  Simon and Tom followed in, Tom was brought over to me.  A cushion was put under my left elbow and all was arranged so that I could give him his first feed.  I remember stroking his hair thinking “it’s dark not fair” stroking the hair on his ear thinking “this baby is part werewolf”  Now I was a mother.

Labour Day

I guess I’ve been in labour all day,  I’ve been having contractions, my waters have broken, there is evidence of “show” however it feels more like a day of grumbling period pain, she types as a painful contraction sweeps in.   The contractions got to about 15 minutes apart after say 7 hours of organised labour before they trickled away and I’m back to irregular contractions that don’t seem to be doing anything.

It looks very much like I will be induced tomorrow morning which will be a pity as having a drip will severly limit how active I can be and probably put the kibosh on any chance I have of the birthing pool.  But the most important thing is not how the baby is delivered rather that he is delivered safely and healthily for the both of us so rather than fight it we’ll see what we can do within the restrictions.

But we’ve got over twelve hours before that decision is made and a lot of things can happen overnight.

D Day +3

My waters broke sometime today but as it wasn’t even a proper trickle I was very good at rationalising it away until about 11:30 pm. I ran up the Delivery Suite they said come in so we did.

I was checked over, an internal examination was done to confirm the membrane had ruptured and to see if I was at all dilated.

My cervix is apparently still way back, so if I am dilated it’s not very much at all and I am home again.  If labour doesn’t get established by Thursday morning I have to go in to be induced, so it is possibly all go. I will definitely have a baby by the weekend. Which is nice.

D-Day +2

Still pregnant, had one painful contraction today but nothing else of note has happened except I emptied out and cleaned two handbags. That could possibly be construed as nesting as I never clean handbags normally and the only time I empty them out is either when I am desperately trying to find an important bit of paper/keys/money/lighter (back in the days when I smoked) or when I’m doing the empty out before I chuck the bag away. Other than that, it’s been a lovely day if too hot in the sun – So I stayed inside.