Bump and Beyond

Hello all!

Finn is happily sleeping away at the moment, so I thought I would take this opportunity to do a little blog! (This is a bit misleading because it is now three days after I began... who knew it would take so long!)

Some of you may be wondering - So! What happened!? Tell me EVERYTHING!
Some of you might be curious, but leaning towards 'spare me the details'
Some of you might really not want to hear any of the details and just want more cute baby time.

I'm actually not sure there are any of you in the first category, but I think it would be good for me to write it all down before I forget the details and before it really ceases being at all important or relevant... so if you are somewhere near the first category, below is the complete description of my experience of the birth. Warning: it is quite long and FULL of personal information.

For those of you in the second category, at the end is a much shorter version of what went on.

For those of you in the third category, scroll down to the very end and there is a short video of Finn sleeping :o)

So. The birth.

The loooong version

The Beginnings
After my last blog, James and I sat down to have a big discussion about what was going to happen in the morning. I really didn't want to be induced. I had this image in my head as to what the birth was going to be like and it was upsetting me that it wasn't going to happen. For one, I didn't want any sort of medication or drugs or hormones etc - and induction not only requires those hormones, but they tend to make labour worse and therefore pain medication far more necessary. I also didn't want to be stuck in the bed with wires and monitors on me. Again, with induction you are required to be under constant monitoring, and your movement is limited to your bed. Lastly, induction just felt wrong. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that it was medically necessary to make a baby come out. Babies don't stay in forever - they will come out when it's time for them to come out. The idea that I was making my body and my baby do something that perhaps it wasn't quite ready for made me very uncomfortable.
So we talked through all these things and I came to terms with the reasoning behind induction. We went through our birth plan and adjusted it to fit the new scenario and we re-packed our bags with the knowledge that induction can take up to three days (so lots of snacks and books and DVDs etc). As I was feeling quite low about it all I decided to have a nice warm bath. James brought me rhubarb crumble with ice cream and sat in the bathroom with me while we continued to talk things through. I was getting a bit too warm though and so I got out and we carried on the rest of the conversation on the couch. At this point it was about 9:30 at night. While we were discussing things on the couch, I noticed that every so often I would get really uncomfortable and my back would feel really sore and tight and then it would just go away. I ignored the first few (pregnancy is full of random aches and pains). But when the conversation drew to a close and we figured it was time to head to bed I informed James that I didn't want to get ahead of myself, and I could indeed be very wrong, and that we shouldn't be too optimistic, but that I thought, maybe, that I was beginning to go into labour. Not only was I getting these pains, but I'd gone to the toilet and some mucus had come out (I warned you that some of this was going to be gross!). Anyway, just in case, we decided that I should be up and walking around to encourage it to keep going. So we headed outside (into the freakishly warm night) and walked circuits around the neighborhood. At this point, I knew that what I was feeling wasn't just a normal ache because it was like a wave of pain that started in my back and then flowed through my stomach and bum. I could still talk through them and we were both quite excited and happy (though hesitant to accept that it was real). They weren't very frequent at this point - maybe once every 15/20 minutes or so, but they definitely weren't stopping so we went back home, phoned my mom, and decided to rest as much as we could, knowing that we were in for a long night. We got into bed at about 11:00.

Building up
I was able to rest a bit and breathe through the contractions when they came. The problem was that in between, when I should have been calm and resting, Finn was kicking me in the ribs quite hard. Hard enough that I couldn't possibly rest. I decided to get up and try and shift him to a new position. I got back into the tub for a bit (we'd left the water in, in case I wanted to get back in after I'd cooled off) which was nice - until a contraction hit and then I just felt trapped, I really needed to be standing up for them. So I got out of the tub and wandered around the house, resting on the couch when I could. They were coming with increasing speed at this point and were beginning to be extremely painful. I had to concentrate extremely hard on breathing through them and not tensing up. It was during this wandering around that I started to watch the clock more, because they really seemed to be getting closer together faster than expected. Sure enough, they were pretty regularly every five minutes or so. They were lasting longer as well and some were quite intense so I woke James up to help me get through them. This was about 2:30 am. The next hour and a half is a little bit of a blur...
Things that I remember:
The contractions were extraordinarily painful and didn't seem to give me any time to catch my breath after one finished before another began.
They kept making me feel like I desperately needed to poo, so I would rush to the toilet after nearly every one - at the beginning I did actually poo but for the most part I just thought I needed to but nothing happened...
James found the spot on my back that was tightening the most during contractions and would just push on it with his knuckles - the temporary relief was glorious
I ended up in a few random positions around the house, the most effective being kneeling backwards on the chair (in the beginning) and bending over the kitchen counter (toward the end).
James was excellent at keeping me focused on taking control over the contractions rather than the other way around. I had a very angry breathing pattern that made me feel like I was shouting at them which helped a lot (though it must have sounded awful!). It was like everything else shut down and it was just me and the pain (which became nearly a physical entity) having a shouting match - which I was determined to win. Sometimes I came out on top and sometimes I didn't - but James was there to keep me at it.

Around about 3:45 they were coming nearly every three minutes or so and I really felt it was time to head to the birthing centre. They had given us guidelines on when it was time to call though, and we hadn't yet met the suggested requirements (ie: that contractions were steady and regular at 3 minute intervals for at least two hours if not three). But I could tell that things were happening way faster than they were "supposed to" and I didn't care what they said, I wanted to go in NOW. For one, I went from every 20 minutes to every 5 minutes in about four hours - we were told that for first babies this could often take around eight or ten. So I wasn't about to wait for things to fit into a schedule that already didn't fit. I knew it was going quick and we needed to get there. There is certainly something to be said for trusting your instinct in situations like this, because if we had waited even 45 minutes more, we would have either needed an ambulance or he would have been born at home!

Heading in
James called the birthing centre to tell them we were coming but they didn't answer. He then called the labour ward of the hospital to confirm that we were coming in, and if they could let the birthing centre know (I don't think they did though). He then phoned the taxi company who initially said that they would have someone there as soon as possible, but it might be around 10/15 minutes. James explained the situation and requested they get someone here immediately if they could - and within five minutes our car had arrived (hopefully the person that was waiting for that particular car wasn't in too much of a hurry!). Throughout this, he also repeated accidentally phoned our friend Ayden who happened to be in an unfortunate location on my contact list and James isn't very familiar with my new phone :o)

When we got the call that the taxi was here, we gathered up our stuff and headed out. I was still in my pajamas, and James had to convince me to take my slippers off and put shoes on. We made our way to the taxi and I remember telling James to tell him that I was sorry, and then as I got in I kept saying I'm so sorry... The contractions kept coming and I couldn't sit properly in the seat. I was sort of half on/half off the seat almost on my knees facing backwards and breathing/growling into the seat-back with each wave of pain. James tried to get the seatbelt on me but that didn't last very long. It was one of the most excruciating journeys ever, with every little bump or too-quick turn feeling like agony. The driver must have thought he was being helpful by saying "we're nearly there!" quite a few times. But that just made me open my eyes and see exactly how NOT nearly there we were - so I kept my eyes shut from then on, and just pretended that we were, indeed, nearly there. Eventually we did get there, though it probably took about 20 minutes (it was a Saturday night in Islington, which didn't help). At this point, James was telling me that we were nearly there, so I believed him and opened my eyes - and we were there! But the car wasn't stopping - I think he was taking us to the emergency entrance instead of the maternity entrance. I feel like I screamed "STOP! HERE!" but it's probably more likely that I whimpered it...
The driver came around and helped me out and I immediately went to cling onto a zebra crossing lamppost while James sorted out the money. I remember hearing that the fare came to 12 pounds, because even in my pain-hazy mind I briefly questioned how much we should tip someone who has had a nasty journey like that - but that question flew out of my mind as soon as the next contraction hit! We had to stand outside the hospital for a bit until the contractions paused enough for me to walk and I remember there was an ambulance with two people in front watching - I wonder what they thought of me... We made it just inside the front door and I had to stop again. I asked James if we needed to check in or something (there was a desk with a security guard there) but he said we should just get upstairs (the birthing centre was on the 3rd floor). Besides, I think it was fairly obvious where we were headed! We headed to the lifts and made our way up. I'm so glad that James was there to sort things out and talk to people because at this point I was in a near permanent haze of pain and concentration. I think this was probably around 4:30 or so. We made it to the reception area and they took my name etc and asked when labour started. When I said around 10:00 they seemed surprised that we were there, and said ok, we'll have a look and see what's going on. I could tell they doubted me being there that early, and afterwards the midwife confirmed that she didn't think it was likely that I would be having a baby anytime soon... little did they know! They also wanted me to go to the labour ward of the hospital instead of the birthing centre because I was 42 weeks - again, I feel like I shouted, but I probably didn't - but I explained that I was NOT 42 weeks, I was 41 weeks and 6 days and I wanted to stay where I was. If I had to move, fine, but they better get me down there NOW. She went away, checked my notes, made a phone call and I was allowed to stay.

In the room/water breaking
They showed us to a room and asked me to give a urine sample. I went into the toilet and tried my hardest but I couldn't get any wee to come out at all. And instead, I started losing all of this really bloody mucus. It was so much blood I got worried so I gave up on the wee, came out and said that I couldn't do it. The midwife said that was ok, it just meant that the baby was blocking it, which can happen. I then told James about the blood and he got the midwife to go and look in the toilet (embarrassing) because I was worried. She said that it was my "bloody show" and it was totally normal but that there was a lot of blood and in her experience it meant that things had the potential to be moving along very quickly. So she wanted me to get onto the bed so she could have a look. I got on the bed and we waited for a pause between contractions. She then gave me an internal examination and said that I was around 5 centimetres, so definitely in established labour, but only about halfway there with a while still to go. After two more contractions or so, I felt this intense urge to push. And I got really worried and started saying "I need to push I need to push." At which point the midwife put on a super serious tone of "under NO circumstances can you start pushing!" and told me to lay on my side and breathe through them. She said it was probably just because she'd done an internal examination and it had stretched things a bit - so even if I felt like pushing, it wasn't time and it would pass. So I tried super hard not to push. I managed through a couple contractions but then there was just this impossible pressure and lo and behold, there was a sudden HUGE rush of liquid as my waters broke. I couldn't believe how much fluid there was! It was like a tidal wave and it was so warm and I felt like I was lying in it. I couldn't help but gasp out: "That. Was. So. Gross!" which made everyone laugh. This was at 5:00.

The worst bit
I think they thought this would take away the need for me to push but it didn't - I still felt the urge. To help, they gave me some 'gas and air' to suck on. It's a mixture of oxygen and laughing gas and it 'takes the edge off' they said... I'm not sure how much it actually did, but the key was that I was supposed to work on breathing in during the contractions with the concept being that if I was breathing IN, I couldn't be pushing OUT. The urge to push was overwhelming though and I started to panic. I remember repeatedly saying "how can I need to push so bad if I'm only five centimetres?" I was getting really frightened because I couldn't control it anymore and it was as if each contraction was a wave through my whole body, the crest of which was a push that I knew I wasn't supposed to allow. It had me making noises that I never thought could come from a human, much less me! They were completely involuntary and very animal like. Up until this point, I had been laying on my right side with my head on James' lap, but then I saw that he was looking funny - I asked him if he was alright and he said he was about to pass out and needed to lay on the floor for a while. In the end, it wasn't any of the blood or gore or horribleness of it all that got to him, it was seeing me in intense pain and watching me start to lose control and panic. I think it shocked me out of panicking though, so maybe it was a good thing - and he recovered quite quickly and was back in the game. At some point in this process (I have no idea when - it's all a bit mixed together) I remembered that I was supposed to be getting intravenous antibiotics because I had a virus that they didn't want me to pass on to the baby. So in the midst of me contracting and trying not to push, they tried to find a vein in the back of my hand. They missed and it started going into a tendon, which hurt more than anything I'd experienced so far and I think I might have screamed a little. The pain was so intense that I thought I was going to pass out (strange that it seemed impossible to pass out because of labour pain - it's just a different kind of pain) and they took it out. They then tried in my other hand and the same thing happened. They wanted to try again in the first hand but the senior midwife stopped them with the thankfully rational opinion that something so overwhelmingly traumatic was not a good thing to keep trying! And besides, the antibiotics are supposed to be given at least two hours before birth and that seemed unlikely at the moment. I was really upset at this point because there was really no way to stop the pushing, the need was so strong. So the midwife said she would have another look to see "what was going on." After what seemed like ages of intense effort, I managed to roll onto my back and much to all of our surprise, I was fully dilated (this was only about 30 minutes after I was 5 centimetres - normally they say to anticipate 1 cm an hour). So she announced that I could push when I needed to.

Pushing
Unfortunately, I had spent so much time trying to fight off the need to push, that I didn't register that I was finally allowed to and it took a lot of encouragement from James and the midwives to get it into my head that it was OK and, indeed, good to push. That first contraction where I allowed myself to go with the wave and actually bear down was the most intense form of relief! As soon as I was able to stop fighting my body and go with it, I was in it! I wasn't scared, I wasn't panicking, I didn't even care about the pain, (though I'm sure it continued to make me whimper in between each contraction... I just don't remember doing it). I was just 100% focused on making each push as good a push as I could do. I was sort of half sitting/reclining (there was a giant beanbag pillow thing behind me) and I had my left fist rammed under the small of my back. James was sitting on the floor on my right massaging my back and neck and giving me sips of water. He tried to hold my hand at one point, but the failed IV thing had made it too painful so instead we were sort of gripping each others forearms. At first, my pushing wasn't very productive, but then I realised that it was because I was trying not to poo myself! I was attempting to push out a baby and hold in a poo at the same time - obviously that doesn't work very well. Once I accepted that pooing a little bit was a possibility and that it was totally fine, I was able to completely relax all of my muscles down there and my pushing became a lot more productive. (As it happened, I did poo a little... I think... the midwives never mentioned it, but I think it must have happened... seems impossible not to, really!). So the rest of the story is just a lot of pushing... It really didn't feel like much was happening, but luckily James was there to reassure me that he could see the head and it was coming out bit by bit (I believed him a lot more than I believed the midwives constant "That's so good! That's excellent! Keep going!"). I got a bit disheartened a couple times, so they encouraged me to feel his head (something I swore I would NOT do - too weird!) and it really helped. It was as if he was just there and so close and I was getting him out! I found it odd that the midwives just watch at this point. I don't know what I expected them to be doing! But with all the effort I was putting in, it seemed bizarre that they were all calmly just watching! When he was 'crowning' (ie: the largest part of his head coming out) it was indeed extremely painful - but again, it was a different kind of pain. It was a burning stinging that was closer to the needles going in than the rest of labour. The midwife kept telling me not to be afraid of it. I couldn't talk, but I wanted to tell her that I wasn't afraid of it and to just shut up and let me do my thing! At least I don't think I ever said that out loud... but that's what was in my head! And I wasn't afraid of it. Yes, it hurt like hell, but I knew it was coming and I knew what it meant - that he was nearly there, and I was more than happy to push through it knowing that it would get worse before it got better - but that the getting better would mean he was out.
They had me stop pushing and pant at the crucial point so that the head could come out a bit slower and I was amazed that I was able to. I don't know how it looked from the outside, but in my head I was totally focused and 'in the zone.' Nothing could stop me now! I was super aware as well, and, unlikely as it may be, I swear I could feel each little bit as it came out (nose, ears, etc). He was a little bit stuck though and the midwife was concerned that it was 'too tight.' She asked for my permission to give me an episiotomy (where they cut your skin to give the head more room to come out). I agreed and she got the stuff. I continued to pant and try to keep things slow. She tried to do the cut, but couldn't because it was too tight to get the scissors in without risking injury to the baby's head. I'm sort of glad she couldn't, because it wasn't long afterwards that I managed to get his head out on my own (though I did tear). Once the head was out I had a short time to catch my breathe and then, all of the sudden, with one more contraction, and an INTENSE feeling of release, his whole body just came sliding out. The very first thought that came into my head was 'oh my god, he's fallen on the floor!' The bed I was on was sort of kidney bean shaped with a strange cutout in the middle, and one of the midwives had spent most of her time sitting there. But when I looked, she wasn't there and I was sure that she'd missed the moment and I'd shot him on to the floor. I was, of course, wrong, and seconds later realised that she was just kneeling on the floor rubbing him (on the bed) and sorting the cord out. He was immediately placed on my chest and I was crying, and James was crying, and Finn was crying and it was one of the single most intense moments of my life. I'm tearing up just remembering it. No words for that moment... so I'll move on. That was at 6:28 am.

The afterbirth
I refused the hormone injection to make the placenta come out, saying that I preferred it to happen naturally. I knew that this can sometimes take a long time, but luckily it was actually only a few minutes later and came out with one contraction and one push. I remember commenting on how easy it was and if only babies came out that smoothly! James and I then both SAW the placenta as they took it away and both immediately said "whoa!" which I followed with "that's so gross!" It really was a nasty looking thing that I would have liked to investigate closer if I hadn't been distracted by my new baby. At some point, they cut the cord and that was pretty gross as well - I wish I hadn't watched. Overall, a LOT of the birth was really gross! And James says I didn't even see the half of it... but there was way more blood and fluid and who knows what than I expected. They do their best to keep whisking away the absorbent pads, but it does still feel like laying in a pool of nastiness every now and then. My socks (which I didn't even remember James putting on me) were caked with disgustingness. Of course none of it mattered at ALL, but looking back it seems like one of those reality TV show challenges along the lines of "will the celebrity snorkel in sewage." Pretty impressive, and completely surprising. I will never listen to a story of someone giving birth in a car or something in the same way again - forget the birth part, imagine the MESS!

But anyway, I digress. That's mostly all (I'm choosing not to mention the stitches that I had to get because they were awful... and I'd rather end on a happier note and see that as completely unrelated to the birth itself... because they were awful. It's not fair to go through something like birth, and finally see it as all the pain is over and you're done, and then find out you are going to be subjected to MORE pain but of the non-productive type. So not fair. And then there's the first wee... oh god...)

So obviously there is more that I will always remember about that day and what came after, but they aren't really to do with the birth itself, which is what I wanted to get down before it faded away. And the other stuff is unlikely to fade away - they left us to ourselves afterward and we laid there together with our new baby as the sun came up and the birds began singing. That's a memory that's unlikely to disappear for the rest of my life :)

The SHORT version
I started getting contractions while James and I were sitting on the couch discussing the induction of the following morning. It was around 10:00 at night. We walked around the block for about an hour and then went to bed to try and get some rest. I couldn't rest well because Finn was really active so instead I let James sleep and I wandered around the flat trying to breathe through the pain. When it got too much for me to handle alone, I woke James up. It was about 2:30 am and they were coming nearly every five minutes. They intensified and got closer together and as it neared 4:00 am we decided to head into the birthing centre. We took a taxi and got there around about 4:20 am and were in a room by 4:30 am. They let me labour for a bit and then wanted to check my progress. They did an internal examination and said I was only five centimetres dilated. Nearly immediately after they checked me (at 5:00 am), my water broke and I had the intense urge to push. They tried to stop me pushing, but the urge was too strong so they checked again and I was fully dilated. I pushed for nearly an hour and a half and Finn was born at 6:28.

Just the FACTS
Finn Juan Franklin was born at 6:28 am on 2 October, 2011
He weighed 7 lbs 9 oz (3430 grams)
He was 20.5 inches (52 cm) long
I was only in labour for around 8 hours, with an hour and a half of pushing

The very cute video: