The Story of Matthew's birth.

I had a slight show on Monday morning which was exciting as I knew it wouldn't be long now until the baby was born... but I knew there could still be a few days to go. I decided to use a sanitary pad incase there was more, so I didn't notice until later that my waters had also begun to leak.

I wasn't having any contractions and so it didn't really sink in, and I decided not to go to the hospital yet. I preferred to wait and see what was going to happen next: When Karl got in from work I told him that I thought my waters had broken and he panicked. We agreed that I would cook some supper for us, and he would phone the midwife to see what we should do. We were told to come in straight away because there is a risk of infection once the protective membranes surrounding the baby have broken. When we arrived I was put onto a monitor for an hour, the baby's heartbeat was strong but I wasn't having any contractions so we were left alone for a couple of hours to see if anything started to happen.

I was moved down onto the ward at about 11pm, and Karl was told to go home and rest: Tomorrow I was going to be induced, unless I went into labour spontaneously over night. On the ward I couldn't sleep, I was too uncomfortable and too excited!

The next morning I was put back onto the monitor for a while, apparently the trace wasn't very good because Matthew kept moving and kicking at the belts...they wanted 15 mins continuous heartbeat readout but the most they got in 40 mins was 5 mins without a break. Then we were left to wait until a doctor was free to start the induction.

I was moved back up to the delivery suite about 11am and they put me back on the monitor again. I changed into a hospital gown, because I didn't want to get my own clothes messy, and then I was examined, I was already 1cm dialated! They gave me a prostaglandin pessary about midday and told to wait until 6pm when they would give me another dose. I was still being monitored, supposedly for another hour!... a midwife brought me some lunch which I tried to eat in order to keep my strength up, but I wasn't hungry and I was desparate for the toilet. In the end I got them to stop the monitoring because I was so uncomfortable. What a releif. Apparently they still didn't have a "good enough" readout from the monitor though.

Suddenly I began to get contractions, about 2pm... they were bearable but pretty strong, lasting near to a minute and spaced about 5 minutes apart. (My notes said they were 2-3/10 on the doctors scale, this is probably about right.) I was looking forward to putting my 'coping/breathing techniques' into action and I felt I was doing well. The excitement of knowing I was finally in labour was helping to carry me through, and I had almost forgotten my fears of what may be to come. The doctor however is telling me "Your only just starting now, it going to get much worse and you are not coping. You have to calm down and take some pain killers"... Hardly encouragment, can you believe this?

Anyway I refused gas and air for another hour or so and Karl eventually got fed up of the doctor, and told her to "go away" (My notes at this point say I was unco-operative and refused help). A gas and air cylinder 'appeared' in my room! I was labouring standing up most of the time: leaning on the bed or wall during a contraction, I found sitting down too uncomfortable, but being on my feet was tiring. A little later a midwife came to check on me, and showed me how to use the gas and air. It was lovely: I relaxed down into the comfy chair in the corner of the room.

I remember feeling exactly like the time when I had got the most drunk that I had ever been. It was at a party when I was 17, and I felt almost like l was watching myself from a distance - total peace, muffled voices, and when I accidentally fell over and thumped my head I didn't even feel it! The gas and air was the same: when I used it I had no pain, but within seconds of stopping I was back to normal (without the hangover!). I also remember being a little scared: the gas and air was totally blocking my pain now... but later on I knew it would only 'ease' the pain, I couldn't imagine that.

At 5 O'clock my midwife came in to say she had to go, but would be back to see me at 10pm. (Later on, she said that the labour wasn't 'established' yet - ie I was less than 4cm dialated - so she imagined I still had a long way to go). Karl went for some supper and I decided to lie down for a while to rest. I fell asleep... and time eluded me for the next few hours. When Karl returned I had been put back on the monitor. I was examined by a midwife and found to be 'well effaced and 5cm dialated'. They were concerned about the readout of Matthew's heartbeat on the monitor and so I had to stay put, I found the constant monitoring painful during a contraction, and being unable to move really annoying.

The next thing I remember was the midwives changed shifts. They had still not managed to get a satisfactory readout from the monitor and seemed concerned. (I later read that this was not because Matthew's heart rate was unstable but because he was still kicking the belts off). They also wanted to break my waters to 'speed things up a little' and so asked our consent to use a featal scalp monitor. I don't actually remember agreeing - but they did it, so we must have. When they ruptured the membranes the remaining waters flooded and I felt Matthew drop against my spine: it hurt, and I was sick! My contractions then became very painful and I was only having a minute or so between them too. I felt terrable and my memory of this bit was of hating every moment, and wanted to be left alone: but if someone had been able to tell me that I only had one more hour of the first stage to go, it would have boosted my spirits enormously!

I did ask how long it would be because I couldn't imagine being in so much pain for hours still. I wanted an epidural if it was still going to be a long time and pethadine if not, but no one could tell me: I was given pethadine. They were finding it difficult to attach the scalp monitor to Matthew's head - it must have taken six of them about half an hour before they managed. When they heard Matthew's heartbeat again they were very happy... and I was finally told that he was doing well... but that I had to go to a delivery room because I was 8cm dialated: I must have dialated quicker than anyone expected once my waters had gone.

I was asked to walk to the new room... that didn't get a repeatable response from me... I was in pain and could hardly move at all, let alone walk. They brought me a wheelchair which I just managed to get in, and I told them to run because I was going to scream if I didn't have any gas and air when the next contraction came! They Ran! We made it just in time... I think the pethadine must have begun to work by now though because I found it easier to get back onto the bed in the new room... and my mind was begining to clear. I layed on my side which was most comfortable and was left to it.

Suddenly there was a lot of fuss going on... I was told to stop pushing: I hadn't even realised I was, it took all my strength and will power not to. There were not enough midwives around. My head cleared completely and I remember every moment from now on: My contractions were no longer painful in the same way, and had slowed right down to about one every 10 minutes. I had to turn onto my back to deliver, and was in a semi-upright position. I had missed four contractions whilst not pushing but now I could go for it: I was told to stop screaming and put my effort into pushing, again I hadn't realised I was screaming... but I did as I was told. The first push with each contraction was painful and I used the gas and air, but then the rest were ok and I did not need anymore pain releif. I managed to push three times with each contraction - the first push being wasted, and the second and third being effective. It took me six contractions from this point to give birth: 1 hour. Matthew apparently began to show signs of distress at the end... Karl translated: Give birth with the next one or else! So I did! Nobody believed I was going to do it, except me.

Matthew was born at 9:50pm. He was fine. His apgar score was 9 at birth and then 10 at one minute. He didn't cry much... just one short "waaa" and then he seemed to be thinking "what happened?". He was cleaned up, and given oxygen for some reason, before being handed back to Karl. My midwife arrived: too late! She was really disappointed to have missed Matthew's birth, but helped with the afterwards stuff. I was really shaking by now from the drugs, and just wanted to be left alone, this is the bit I regret. I refused to hold Matthew because I felt so out of control, and next time I don't want to have so many drugs. I had an assisted third stage, but all I really remember was having my tummy 'wiggled'. I also had to have stitches for an average second degree tear, which I would probably have avoided if Matthew had not have been born so suddenly at the end.

I had two cups of tea and two slices of toast: Karl didn't want his! And I finally met my son. We were left alone for a while, and then I was taken for a shower and clean up, and we all returned to the ward at around 1am.

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Read about Amber's birth

Return to diary: March 1997