Birth Story: An unexpected pop to delivery two weeks early
It was a Thursday in December. A day I will never forget. My little baby girl was due in two weeks time. I had been awake most of the night, which was pretty normal for a heavily pregnant woman, let alone one with pregnancy-related pelvic girdle pain (or PPGP for short).
My husband (you can also read David’s version of this birth story) had a two day conference in London which started that morning. I got up around 7am and made us breakfast before he left for work. Around 8:30am I started texting my twin sister and gulped down a pint of water which, with my weakened bladder, was very brave!
At about 9am I heard this weird pop/knock. I really wasn’t sure what the sound was but I vaguely remembered reading somewhere that sometimes a woman hears a popping sound when her waters break. I put that thought right to the back of my mind since Isabelle wasn’t due for another two weeks.
I was sat on the edge of my bed, because pregnant women sit a lot, then got up and felt a weird gush in my knickers – ah the joys of pregnancy. I figured I had wet myself because things like that are a bit more common when you have a ginormous stomach pressing down on your bladder constantly, though to be honest, in the back of my mind I did think briefly “oh crap have my waters gone?”
I sent an ironic text to my sister saying I’d scared myself briefly thinking my waters had broken. Haha. What a joke.
Well, the joke was on me when about two minutes later the rest of my waters actually did break, and boy did they break!
At 9am, on that December morning, my labour had officially started. I called the hospital around 10am and they told me to come in. I then called my sister and told her the news! She almost screamed for me to get my husband home that instant, but labour takes ages (so I’d heard) and there was no rush.
After a curt telling off from the twin, I called my husband who was in the middle of his conference and told him he should think about coming home, but there probably wasn’t any rush if he needed to finish a talk or something. I was a career woman, I got how these things worked.
About an hour later I was rage texting him because the pain was getting really bad and he still wasn’t home.
As soon as he arrived I literally got up and made straight for the door. We got to the hospital around 12 and the midwife on duty who I had spoken to on the phone was incredibly flippant with us. It kind of seemed like she had the impression I was overplaying how bad the pain was. Like maybe I was being a bit of a wimp. She got me on the bed then watched my stomach for a contraction. When the next one hit my eyes squeezed closed in agony. She rolled her eyes and told me it was “just a tiny one”, and that I needed to get used to bigger pain than this, or how else would I cope when the bigger ones came?
She then told me to remember what I’d learnt in the birthing classes and when I told her we hadn’t taken a class she almost went berserk (I probably should have told her that the NHS had only offered us a spot after the baby would have been born).
I’m not particularly good at medical professionals telling me off when I’m in the midst of a painful labour and she almost reduced me to tears. I asked her to check how far along I was and she refused because it was unlikely I had dilated at all. I then demanded she check how far along I was because I knew my body was progressing quickly. I am not a wimp and I knew the pain wasn’t just a teeny tiny one. She finally agreed to give me a check and it was the furthest from delicate she could have been.
I was 2cm dilated, 3 hours into my labour. My contractions were a minute and a half apart (according to my husband), incredibly painful and my waters had completely broken, in all their glory. However, we were still sent home. The midwife said I should only come back once my temperature had reached a certain point. I didn’t even own a thermometer. I’m still not sure to this day why I was sent home. Perhaps it was just a tired nurse at the end of her shift not wanting to do the paperwork for another patient to be admitted. Who knows.
The horrible midwife did give me one good piece of advice though and that was to just remember that “the pain would not last, that even though it hurt a lot there would always be a short break with no pain”. And with that nugget we headed home.
Three hours later, at 3pm I was back in the hospital in agony – again. I remember taking a deep breath before we left, at the top of my third floor flat and waiting for one of the contractions to pass so I could race downstairs without screaming the entire echoey staircase down. I somehow managed to run faster than my heavily pregnant body has ever moved before and got outside before the next contraction hit. I keeled over in agony at the pain of it.
The horrible midwife had long gone thankfully and been replaced with a really lovely woman who despite keeping me waiting about 20m (it felt like hours) was very gentle when she did get me on top of the bed for a check.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a face switch so quickly.
I literally saw her panic set in! 7cm dilated – that’s 5cm in the space of 3 hours. I was so relieved to hear her say it. There was lots of rushing around and then I was placed into a room with a different midwife who was absolutely amazing, though we found out later that this was her first delivery alone.
So 3:30pm I got a room and was told not to push until I was fully dilated. A couple of excruciating hours passed and I seemed to be stuck at 9cm. My husband kept trying to shove the god awful gas and air into my face and I hated that stuff so badly.
I was checked again and told that the baby was sunny side up. Whatever that meant.
I just wanted to push but they kept telling me I wasn’t allowed to. I was stuck in this hell at 9cm and couldn’t do anything about it even though every cell in my body told me to push! At this point I was getting pretty stressed out (putting it lightly) and they were worried the baby might get into some distress so decided to put a clip on her head. It was at this point that they realised I was fully dilated. At last!
The midwife went and got some gloves on and told me on the next contraction I could push. I didn’t need to be told twice. I was at the time half way through a contraction so gave a good push and Isabelle’s head crowned. I remember the nurse freaking out and running over to me mid donning of her gloves. A few seconds later I pushed again and Isabelle’s head popped out.
The midwife panicked and told my husband to “Press the red button! Press the red button!” Another few seconds later I pushed again and the rest of Isabelle’s body came shooting out of me! It felt like the biggest relief in the world.
The midwife instantly placed my new little baby over my chest and got my husband to cut the cord (don’t think he was expecting that). I was laying there panting and weak with this tiny sticky white bundle in my arms and all I could think of was “wow she has a face”. Of course babies have faces. But my little baby had her own face. I was expecting a generic baby gremlin face (which looking back now she basically had). But there she was laying in my arms looking very angry and she was Isabelle.
Isabelle Georgette Hing was born at 7:15pm after a 10 hour labour at 38 weeks. I had second degree tearing from where she (or the awful placenta) had flown out of me so was whisked away to be stitched up. When I came back it was to my little baby all dressed and wrapped in a blanket having a cuddle with her very proud and amazed looking daddy. I’ll never as long as I live forget that moment. Suffice to say he didn’t make it back in for his conference.
I stayed in the hospital for two long nights whilst I attempted to master breastfeeding and my husband rushed home to try and set up her Moses basket. She was so tiny in her little car seat when we left on Saturday evening. I’ve never known my husband to drive so slowly and carefully! We finally got her home and to ourselves. It was amazing but also terrifying.
I was filled with a sense of the deepest fear that no matter what happened I had to keep her alive. That fear took a really long time to settle but for the most part we managed ok. They say you forget the pain of giving birth but I’m not sure that’s quite true for me. I remember the agony I felt and I remember saying “NEVER AGAIN!!!” But you realise that one day of pain is worth the amazing life you’ve bought into the world.
And I would do it again.
