Wednesday, 15 August 2012

Graphic! Birth Story.

Well! I don't know who ON EARTH would want to read this, but I have to type it all out for my "Cognitive Behavioural Therapy", so I might as well put it here in case it makes anyone else feel better. Also it's probably cathartic and stuff, right? I have added extra comments for possible laughs.

Needless to say this is very personal, and graphic. Nobody will judge if you choose not to read.

Tuesday 11pm started having contractions, took myself off downstairs to watch all the Gossip Girl episodes I'd saved up to distract me. Didn't work. Put music and candles on. Didn't work. Tried to sleep. DEFINITELY didn't work. After a couple of hours woke hubby up and he cheered me on and I puffed and panted for a few hours. Rang for a midwife but none were available for our supposed "home birth", so decided to go in and get checked.

Wed 4-5am went to hosp, was checked, they said 3cm but baby was back
to back, and gave me gas&air for the pain. Chose to stay, that gas and air is nice.

7am-5pm Experienced older midwives took me to THE SUITE, it was like a hotel room. Hubby fell asleep on the double bed while me and the MWs chatted, drank tea and watched the Chilean miners on the news. We laughed and took the piss out of Ian. The ladies were lovely and laid back, and I was doing ok even though things were progressing slowly. They told me to hurry up!

5pm changeover of midwives, the new midwife was young, newly qualified and hard to
understand. Also had male student doctor attending with my permission, he was scarily gung ho. MW checked me and had gone back to 5cm.WHAT? This was really fucking annoying. I think her bedside manner had made me swallow my baby again.

Was in horrendous almost constant pain by now (don't know why?) and so exhausted. I couldn't see how I could survive 5 more centimetres, and begged for an epidural. Ian and the MW talked me out of it. Not knowing that the response to this should be a punch in the face, I accepted Pethidine instead.
It made me feel really dizzy and drunk, like I didn't have enough to deal with! MW wanted to burst
waters but this didn't do much except cause loads of pain.

6pm? contractions had become really painful and was so tired. No one
checked me but I was under impression I had ages to go. Begged for
epidural. They said I’d have to walk to another room for it. Had to walk down corridor to delivery room stopping every couple of yards to have contraction, bleeding on floor as I went,
yelling. MW clearly thought I was such a pain in the arse.
Once in the room the anaesthetist(?) said it was important to be totally still but I
couldn't as was writhing in pain, now believe was in transition. So here I am, desperate for pain relief but in too much pain to sit still, ooh what a quandary! 

Suddenly felt like pushing! MW said you're not ready yet, go and have a poo. Sat in toilet for ages pushing! Clearly it was not a poo. She said "don't push too hard, you can push a poo but don't push the baby".

Anyone who has had a baby, HOW THE FUUUUCCK IS THERE A DIFFERENCE???!!!

Anyway. That was nice. A room of people watching me try and not have a poo.

7pm? Finally got checked and was 10cm. (I fucking told you!) Urge to push had passed/ been
supressed, and I was exhausted. Tried to change position and push but
nothing seemed to be happening. Mw said they were worried about baby’s
heartbeat. (by the way this is bollocks, her heartbeat was slightly fast, as it fucking would be if you were being fucking born)
 In my ignorance/ desperation I agreed to episiotomy & forceps. Doctor came in and lots of
other medical people with various equipment filled room. Was put in
stirrups, really uncomfortable/ undignified and clothes all over the place. It really bugged me that my slippers had turned to be on top of my feet and I looked like a dick. Ahh the things you remember.

8.12pm Daphne born and marked as perfect, relieved and happy mum and dad! She never cried, was alert and looked us straight in the face. Most awesome moment of my life. And most fucking relieved.

The doctor had problems with placenta and not sure if he had to manually remove it. NICE.
 There was certainly a lot of tugging and squishing and  I bled a lot and there was a bit of panic about getting enough supplies to mop up!? Stupid prick of a doctor kept shouting at various staff for not having a particular size of swab or whatever. Was in stirrups for a LONG TIME and I couldn't feel my legs
any more. All hope of someone sorting my slippers out was totally gone. I swear I was there akimbo for about an hour while the doctor shouted at people and told me it shouldn't hurt anymore.
YOU'RE TELLING ME! I should have cried. The baby is out now, isn't it time you guys left me alone and fucked off? Apparently not, I had some gloriously slow student stitching up and god knows what shoved up my bum first.

Stayed 2 more nights in hosp due to bleeding etc, where I was mostly ignored as MWs thought it was my second baby. (that'll be my haggard good looks)
 Went home friday and had real tea and real hugs and a real baby to myself.

Hey, the graphic stuff  isn't over.

About a week later: passed large piece of placenta/membrane, went to GP who looked horrified that I should put it in a sandwich bag. What?? That's what we do with the midwives... From the other side of his office he asked what I wanted him to do about it. 
"I just wanted to know if I'm going to be ok, Doc"
The answer?
"Let's hope so."

Another week later: passed even larger piece of membrane, what the hell? Seriously it was like a hand. Nobody wants a hand coming out of them when they're knackered and trying to look after a newborn. Went to a different GP who booked me in for a hospital exam.

Another week later: Went to hospital for examination. Waited with labouring women on labour ward. Not the most fun time. Managed to finally get an exam and Dr and MW took out lots more membrane. I cried a bit, just didn't understand what was going on, and I wanted Ian and Daph.
 They were surprised by what they found, but said that must be all of it now and booked me an appointment for a scan.

At some point I gave up breastfeeding, there was work being done on the house and there were always people around, I was so tired and breastfeeding hurts! But they tell you it shouldn't hurt. Another lie. What's more, I was so stressed about this hospital stuff, was this normal? Everywhere I looked on the internet it was bad news.. it didn't even exist in humans... but it's ok, in cows, they tend to just die. HEARTENING.

A week later: Went for scan and they had no record of me. Went to various departments trying to find someone who gave a shit. 
Found the shit Dr who delivered Daph, he gruffly told me to “go home and be with my baby”. Left and cried. Then went back to demand my notes.
The Dr took me into a side room and said I should have asked before, I should have said I was upset. Such a penis. I said I’d been promised a scan, so he did a brief one and said there’s no point as you wouldn’t be able to see anything. Said a load of terminology he knew I wouldn't understand. Prick. Before leaving I asked to be referred to gynecology.

2 weeks later: Went to gynecology ward. Female doctor examined me and said there was no doubt I had an infection. Had a scan. They insisted I have a D&C the following day, due to LOADS OF FUCKING SHIT AND AN INFECTION IN MY WOMB. 

Heavy bleeding for another 6 weeks, weeping/ clots on and off for 3 months, various humiliating trips to Gp/ Gynae til I couldn't take it any more! Oh I forgot, there was an infected episiotomy and some kind of prolapse along the way too, they were nothing though really.

A couple of months later my 3 best friends of 10 years said I wasn’t coping well, and they didn’t want to see me ever again.

ANYWAY, good things can come out of bad things, and the best thing that has ever happened to me is my hilarious daughter Daphne. Just one look at her makes me so proud and happy. Motherhood is NOT a bed of roses, and whether I ever try it again is very doubtful, but having a child in your life is eye-opening. She is definitely my reason to live.



  1. Well I am just so sad you have no comments. That is one mother of a shit birth story. However, you are still here to tell th tale and if its any consolation your writing makes me Me laugh out loud. I didnt suffer the aftermath of infection postnatallly that you did but spent many weeks in hospital prior to having my son (5+weeks) an 12 days with my daughter so have plenty of hospital experience to know that jam shite at having babies and k ow that motherhood is no bed of roses. Sending ig loves to you nic and keep writing. My blog died a death months ago, just no time at all......

  2. Apologies for stupid iPad thinking it knows how to spell better than the human brain ......

  3. You are so lovely! Thank you for reading. To be fair my two other followers (I'm pretty damn popular) are on facebook where I got a couple more comments ;) I don't know how YOU managed, it would break my heart being separated from Daph so early, it must be so hard to bond and life must feel on hold. It's like suspended reality in hospital! Didn't realise there are so many of us in the "birth isn't perfect" camp. Women have so much they are expected to live up to. Anyway, HEAVY! if you ever restart your blog I will totally read it ;) previous posts broke my heart xx ps. On FB I'm DaphneRoseCrafts