It is a strange thought that women’s bodies are built to withstand childbirth. The physical and emotional aspects of such a trauma inducing experience and we just get on with life the next day. As a first time mum, I can safely safe that nothing prepared me for what I was in for in the birthing suite. No amount of reading or research could have ever prepared me for the experience that would forever change me.
I had prepared myself for the idea that we would have weeks left before meeting our little one. But one Saturday, a few days before the due date, our little one decided to stop moving. Panic set in. One phone call later and we were on our way to the hospital to be checked out. By this time it was already early evening. The birth suite was full with other expecting mothers and we had an anxious wait, until we were finally seen. I was instantly strapped up to the CTG machine to monitor baby’s heart-rate and movements. Movements had decreased, heart-rate was fine but my blood pressure was exceptionally high. The decision was made for us to stay in overnight for monitoring and an ultrasound the following day to see what was happening. By this time it was 10.30pm and we were both exhausted. I made the call for S. to head home at midnight, as there was no point him sitting there in the most uncomfortable chair in the hospital, attempting to sleep. He was better off being at the house in bed.
This was an exceptionally long night for me. This was my first ever hospital stay, in my life, and I was scared for us both. The potential outcome of this was so unknown. Would we be okay? Would everything go as planned? Or at least somewhat as planned. I had to always remind myself that even if it didn’t go “as planned” that that would be okay-the safety of us both was what was most important. The next morning saw me moved to the maternity ward, where I would await the ultrasound to check our little one.
The doctor came around, and dependent on the ultrasound results, but more likely than not, I would be induced as there was a number of concerns, including the reduced fetal movements and high blood pressure, as well as the reduction in stomach size, indicating a stall in growth, later picked up in the ultrasound. Our induction was booked. The process would begin on Monday evening.
Monday evening rolled around, and I was taken across to the birth suite to begin the induction process. A balloon catheter was to be inserted and removed on Tuesday morning. This procedure was exceptionally uncomfortable. Possibly the worst pain I have experienced. And I was prescribed endone and a sleeping pill in order to get some sleep in preparation for our big day. One of the hardest parts about the extended stay in the hospital was being alone. It was my first stay in hospital, let alone the fear associated with everything that was happening.
Tuesday morning saw the midwives retrieve me and take us across to the birth suite for the balloon removal and subsequent induction using oxytocin. There was a wave of emotions and contractions almost immediately and it had begun. The next few hours were filled with intensified contractions and lots of jokes and banter between S and our midwife. Many of which I did not find funny at the time, and I sure as hell let S know. But it was great, our midwife was incredible and S planned on helping deliver our little one into the world.
Lunch time rolled around and we had been in so many different positions just trying to breathe through the contractions, using the floor, balls and the shower. Things had just started to ramp up as my midwife was about to go for a quick lunch, she decided to stay, and shortly afterwards I felt an overwhelming need to push. My entire body had taken over and I was no longer able to subdue the urge. Upon checking, we were 100% ready to go. Our little one was ready to enter the world. At 1:30pm I had entered active labour. This was it. We were ready to go. The hardest thing I had ever had to do in my life. However, our little one had become stuck, the head was not descending as needed and the heart-rate had dropped significantly, down to 60 BPM. Stress. Both of us. All of us. The room flooded with people, doctors, NICU staff, people everywhere. Panic set in. My midwife got my attention, she looked at me and said “I know you have noticed the room fill with people, but I want you to just focus on me and nothing else”. She coached me through the next stages as they performed an episiotomy. And at 2:10pm our little one was welcomed into the world. Into our loving arms.
We spent the next few hours in the birth suite bonding and feeding. Wrapped up in our arms. Our own little one. Ada Rose Ackerley.
