Birth stories - the good the bad and the ugly.

I thought it would be a nice idea to collect a few birth stories to share with you all. The main point of this series is to demonstrate from first hand experience some of the things that can happen during labour, and potentially anything we’d have done differently if we could have!

When squid came into the world - my story

Imagine going to the office, taking all your clothes off and showing your colleagues, friends and boss your fanny and boobs - welcome to my birth story!

Ok there is slightly more to it then this, but having worked on the maternity unit just 2 months before my delivery, I very much knew all the staff involved in my care. Of course it was bizarre having many different midwives I’d been friendly with sticking their fingers up my foof and my registrar snip open my perineum as easily as you would cut the Christmas wrapping paper; but it was all necessary!

I had tried not to have much of a birth plan as I knew that they often went out the window leaving the labouring woman in much distress. I thought I’d be as cool as a cucumber and just roll with it. That was until I was almost 2 weeks over due, most of my NCT class had already had their babies and eventually I gave in and agreed to be induced. Oh joy. I had one big no-no on my ‘oh so relaxed’ birth plan which was ‘please God no forceps’…

I thought I would resist being induced thinking ‘surely Baby would want to come out eventually?!’ I tried to tell myself that the rate of still birth was not actually that much greater than a woman at 39 or 40 weeks gestation, psychologically however I struggled. I had visions of a baby with a gigantic head, growing inch by inch every second it stayed inside, preparing to obliterate my lady parts; that’s when I agreed to be induced. So at 41+5, Daddy BB and I went to the maternity unit. Pessary inserted and a few hours of waddling and bouncing on the giant ball around the hospital, my contractions began. Here’s the thing, when my contractions started, I had one every 2-3 minutes (or 3-4 every 10 minutes). This was quite intense. I worked myself nicely up the analgesic ladder, sucking on gas and air and shoving my naked behind in and out of the shower whilst my husband tried to watch ‘Shaun of the dead’. Nine hours in (that’s about 162 contractions) and I asked for an epidural, ‘but you’re coping so well’ said the midwives, regardless of their impression, I was exhausted and had met my pain threshold.
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Bliss, sweet bliss. The epidural went in very easily. I tried to have a nap but the doctors kept coming in to look at the CTG (baby’s heart tracing) as they were concerned there was a problem. A few murmurs of ‘may need a C-section’ later, they attached the fetal scalp electrode to better monitor baby - all was fine, the CTG had been loosing the trace. 

​Nine hours later I was fully dilated. Time to push. A quick 10 minute rest to gather some strength (we’d all been up for 24 hours at this point). Then the most random thing happened - a small choir gathered in the corridor and started singing the Beatles ‘here comes the sun’. So strange but quite lovely, we should have known we were having a boy ‘here comes your son’ we thought! This was quite a touching moment for Daddy and me right before our world was going to change forever. Then they started singing Shakira’s ‘Hips don’t lie’ and ruined it. Oh well. 
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PUSH. PUSH. pant, pant, pant, PUSH! Utterly exhausting. My epidural was quite light as I wanted to feel as much as possible so I had some control. Two and a half hours of this. No baby. That’s when my Registrar came back. Uh oh. Don’t say it, I thought. ‘Forceps’ she said, ah crap. Snip, salad tongues inserted and PULL/PUSH!!! Luckily Baby’s head stayed firmly attached to his body and out came a gorgeous slimy alien! Welcome to the world baby squid! 

If I’d had my time again, would I have done anything differently?

Although I didn’t have much of a birth plan, I was terrified of forceps and an episiotomy. Having had both I can say I had nothing to fear (at the time) from these. Largely thanks to my epidural. I think sometimes pregnant women can feel ashamed for needing an epidural. Why? Does it mean you’re less of a woman for wanting one? No. Does it mean you’ve failed the fun game that is giving birth? Nope again. There is plenty in life to feel guilty about already, don’t add your birth plan to it! Your hormones are running wild during and after pregnancy which doesn’t help. 

The only thing I’d maybe have tried my best to avoid is instrumentation (forceps / ventouse). I don’t think anything could have actually be done differently in the end, and it didn’t hurt me at the time, it’s just the after birth issues - see blog coming soon on prolapse! I don’t regret anything and our squid came into the world healthy and as happy as one can be considering he was extracted with salad tongues.