Today I bring you the lovely Emily, from Mama Ramblings, and her lucky baby birth story. It’s such a great story, which I have a feeling many mums (myself included) will relate to…waters breaking, taking aaaaaages to get into ‘established labour’, and then needing to be induced. But there’s still the added little bit of luck that pulls this story together! Enjoy!

Mondays Child- My Birth Story Part I

By Emily, Mama Ramblings

This is me 9 months pregnant; overdue, starting to climb the walls and so excited to meet our baby.

Emily's Lucky Baby Birth Story!

I was due on the 3rd, that date you know really means nothing but you spend 9 months pinning everything on to it. The day came and went with not so much as a twinge and a very uncomfortable, relatively unsuccessful cervical sweep. At that stage I had a bishops score of just 1 (really unlikely to go in to labour naturally at that point) and the whole process at the midwife left me feeling hot and dizzy and rather unwell.

The passing of my due date bought with it a wave of calm. I had been anxiously counting down the days and now all that was left to do was wait. We attempted some of the old wives tales and enjoyed a curry, walks and (sorry parents reading this!) sex. What did seem to work 3 days after my due date was a brisk walk. To the park we trotted and back up the hill to home where I spent the next couple of hours bouncing around on my birthing ball. It was whilst I was in the garden later that I felt my waters go, not in dramatic popping style but a slow leakage. I tried to call hubby at work to no avail, so mum got the call “what was it like when your waters broke?” I enquired, all the while I was still leaking but because I wasn’t having contractions I was unsure that it was my waters (looking back what else was it going to be?!). I called maternity triage and was asked to go in to confirm it was my waters that had broken and to be checked over. Things seemed to be moving on and yet I didn’t feel like I was about to have a baby because I wasn’t contracting.

At our hospital visit the midwife confirmed my waters had broken and that everything was fine then sent me home to bed with instructions to return at 8am the next morning to be induced, or in the mean time if my contractions started. It was very strange going home knowing that this was it, I knew I should get some sleep but I was so nervous and excited. This was my last night in our bed pregnant, our last night at home as 2, there was so much to think about.

We woke up on Sunday and headed back to the hospital where unfortunately there were no beds so we were asked to head back at 1, feeling slightly disappointed we made our way to our favourite cafe for some brekkie. It was odd sitting there knowing my waters had broken and having such a big baby bump I got looks from people that said they thought they might have to jump in with hot water and towels at any minute- little did they know!

After lots of update phone calls to family we went back at 1 and I was given a bed in a full room on the post natal ward. Amongst the sound of fetal heart monitors we waited as the midwives rushed around- taking time out to tell hubby off for napping on my bed (I was on the birthing ball at the time so didn’t mind!). After some monitoring they examined me and gave me the prostin gel to try to induce me. They allowed 6 hours for the gel to do its thing, this gave us time to complete 3 full laps of the car park, walk around the ward and consume plenty of Percy Pigs but unfortunately no contractions. The ward slowly emptied throughout the day until I was the last woman standing. The midwives talked me through the next stage which would involve putting me on a hormone drip to start contractions and at 11.30pm we were taken to room 8 on the labour ward. 8 is my lucky number and I remember thinking it was a good sign. I got changed, got in to bed and for a short while it was just hubby and I. This was it, this was the room where we would meet our baby, this is where our lives would change, I was overcome with emotion and couldn’t help but cry.

After settling in to our new space our midwife examined me, I was 1cm dilated and there were still some waters in front of baby’s head so she fetched the Doctor to break my waters. I was hooked up to the syntocinon drip and told that they would start it at 1ml and slowly turn it up, with contractions expected to get going at around 5ml. With that in mind I wasn’t prepared for how quickly my contractions came and got very intense. I braved them out while our midwife sat quietly in the corner of the room, monitoring me and giving us our space as hubby tried to talk me through the pain and focus me on my breathing. As the waves of pain kept coming, starting at the top of my belly and finishing in my back, I mentioned to him about pain relief and he asked the midwife. We agreed I would start with some paracetamol and try the gas and air. With the first attempt at the gas and air I remember laughing and telling hubby how drunk I felt and with the second hit I was sick. The contractions were coming faster and I tried to avoid the gas and air so I wasn’t sick again but needed something to take the edge off so stuck with it. My contractions got closer together and more painful very quickly and as pressure was starting to build up I sucked furiously on the gas and air. I was told to try not to take the gas and air between contractions- there was no between contractions! The pain and pressure was so intense at this point, with no let up between them the midwife examined me ahead of schedule because they thought I was about to deliver. I had discussed with hubby about going to diamorphine but avoiding an epidural if possible and he was great for reminding me about my wishes when I was pleading for the epidural! It was when I considered pulling the drip out of my arm that I knew I needed the strong stuff, and when we discovered I was only 2cm dilated they made the call to the anaesthetist.

When I talk to hubby about what happened next we have a different version of events! Once the epidural had kicked in I mentioned how quickly they had done it it, but I was corrected! It had taken about an hour and a half for them to arrive and as I was pretty high on the gas and air I have no recollection of this time, which is probably a good thing! The next solid memory I have is of the anaesthetist preparing to give me the epidural, the pain was hitting me harder and harder and I worried about how I could even stay still long enough through the contractions for them to put the needle in to my spine. After the epidural had kicked in I was pain free and just watching my contractions as numbers on the monitor (and I may have told hubby I loved the anaesthetist more than him!). Embarrassingly the epidural had left me less than in control of my bowels (yes, we’ve reached that bit of the story!) this was a good sign to the Doctor as it meant baby’s head was on the move.  She examined me again and asked us to guess how dilated I was (I guessed 4cm and hubby 6cm) I think you could have picked our jaws up off the floor when she told us I was fully dilated!

I was given an hour to rest then would start pushing at 7am. It was strange pushing at first when I couldn’t feel anything, I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right but when the midwife commented on the amount of hair little one had I found my confidence. After around half an hour of pushing the midwife encouraged me to really make the most of each contraction as if we got to an hour she would have to call the Doctor. That made me really determined to get the baby out before 8! With the next few contractions I pushed really well until baby’s head came out, her first few gurgles before her body followed were magical. My hubby had started crying and had done so well at the action end, encouraging me through my contractions. With my next contraction she arrived at 7.55am and as she was put on to my chest hubby told me she was a girl. In that joyous moment we cried and smiled together and I forgot all the pain that the last 8 hours had held, I know it’s cliche and everyone says it but there is a reason for that, it’s so very true. Our little girl was with us and everything I had gone through was worth it.

Emily's Lucky Baby Birth Story!
At 8lbs 1/2oz she was all the 8’s, born in room 8 on the 8th, just before 8am. In China 8 is a lucky number and I feel like the luckiest mama in the world.

Thank you for sharing Emily!

Do you have a lucky baby birth story?

Do share your thoughts in the comments – We’d love to hear from you!

For more birth stories (like LOADS more!) go to the Giving Birth Series.