The labour story - in brief!

It is probably better that I write this with a few weeks distance from the actual event because, while I will not forget what a horrific journey it was at times, the joy of what resulted from that journey has numbed the nightmare somewhat! I say nightmare, but according to the midwives' notes it was a normal, straightforward delivery...

The adventure began at 12.30am on Sunday 4 March, after a day of spring cleaning with my mum and a lovely roast dinner (which I cooked) shared with Trevor, mum and my youngest brother. There was a definite feeling of contentment as I sat down with my family to relax at the end of a productive day. I had been in bed a couple of hours, while Trevor was still up 'playing' on the computer, when I suddenly felt very wet! There was no doubt about the fact that my waters had broken and I realised with some trepidation that life was about to get very interesting!

After popping to hospital for a quick checkover, we returned home to see if contractions started naturally, eat hot weetabix and sleep - Verona's advice. But there was no sleeping through the contractions and by 5.30am we were heading back to hospital, largely because I couldn't bear the thought of sitting in a car having a contraction. We left mum and brother, George, pacing the floor...

The hospital room - complete with birthing pool - was dimly lit and pleasantly clean. We unpacked a few things and made ourselves 'comfortable', but there was no playing Scrabble as I'd imagined! After several hours of contractions and being quite violently sick, the midwife did the first examination at 9am... 2cms!! She did a good job of making me feel less despondent by saying that I was fully effaced and the head was well down - level with the ishal spines. It was thanks to Verona's 'Preparation for Birth' weekend that I knew what that meant!

At the next examination, four hours later, I was 5cms dilated and could get into the pool - bliss! The pool was the best pain relief ever! I given up on gas and air early on because it didn't seem to do anything and I was feeling pretty nauseous anyway. Verona arrived at about 3.30pm (having got someone else to do her afternoon teaching!) and it was then that I felt I could really relax and focus on the job in hand. Unfortunately I relaxed too much and by 5pm I was still only 7-8cms dilated, so they suggested I get out the pool to see if that strengthened the contractions. IT DID.

By 7pm I was hooked up to the monitors and Verona was telling me when to breathe the gas and air in, which was working a treat now. I had begun to tire a little, and they suggested a Syntocinon drip to augment contractions. This then felt like I was having one long contraction and I stopped looking at the time after 8pm!

Being on the bed, albeit on all fours, was not good and eventually I asked to get off it. With some jiggling of wires, I was on the floor and felt like I had more to push against, which felt a lot better. At some point in the proceedings, I was aware that Verona was sending Trevor for a break and I was pleased. When he returned he was noticeably more proactive and supportive.

I longed for the urge to push and for it to be all over. I was feeling pathetic, useless and exhausted and at several points asked Trevor to make it all stop and for the midwife to 'cut it out, suck it out, just get it out'. I remember thinking 'I don't care how many women have gone through this, it can't be natural!' Verona's presence and focused words of guidance were very reassuring, and her foot massages were a pleasant distraction.

Eventually there was the urge to push and I knew the hard work was about to start - but I thought I had no energy left and I was literally on my knees! The best position seemed to be pulling against Trevor and biting on his belt. I'm glad to say that at no point did I feel anything but absolute love for him and it was undoubtedly the sheer excitement in his voice that kept me going at the end.

It was obviously taking a little longer than the midwife would have liked as there were comments about the doctors going grey haired outside, so could I get a move on! When the little body did eventually pop out, I remember looking at 'it' and being amazed at how big it was. Verona was excitedly asking Trevor if he could see what it was and he announced that it was a BOY! I don't know what happened next really - I couldn't hear or speak for what seemed like ages, then I was struggling back onto the bed and Trevor was asking me if I was okay...

There was yet more discomfort to come with the delivery of the placenta, and I do remember Trevor having a 'guided tour' of it with the midwife, but thankfully stitches were not required! Babe was lying on me for quite a while, but made no move towards the breast, as I'd imagined he might. Verona took a photo of us, despite my feelings of despair at what I must look like!

It took some time to shower, dress babe, pack up our things and move up to the ward. The midwife brought me two slices of 'toast' (white cardboard squares spread with some cheap margerine) which tasted divine. Trevor commented on what a serious little face he had - the name Ainsworth seemed to suit, and knowing how keen he was on the name of course I agreed to it.

We were put on the anti-natal ward as the post-natal was full - it had been a busy weekend! Strangely enough I wasn't too worried about Trevor going home - perhaps because I knew the house wasn't empty?

I lay down, with Ainsworth James on my chest and was very glad the ward staff weren't going to make me put him down in a cot.