My first son Master J was born six years ago naturally, by naturally I mean vaginally. I wanted to clear this up because natural seems to mean many things these days to different people. I remember having contractions ten minutes apart to five minutes apart for a week prior to his birth. Non active labour they called it on my two visits to the hospital. I had a appointment with a obstetrician at forty one weeks. I was truly over being pregnant by this point and was hoping they would consider inducing me. On examination I was only one centimeter dilated and extremely uncomfortable but also had the assistant doctor check as well. After asking to please be induced the obstetrician made a few phone calls around to the local hospitals. I was offered to wait three days or the next day for induction at seven AM. I definitely wasn’t waiting three days.
I spent the rest of the day relaxing between contractions which were again fives minutes apart. Dinner time comes around and I noticed to contractions had gotten stronger. On timing them there were now three minutes apart and I was crying not so much because of the pain but because I think it I had just realized that I was having a baby and pretty soon and I was scared. Scared because I didn’t know what expect being my first child and scared by the intensity of the pain I was already feeling. What would it be like in a couple of hours?
We got to the hospital and I remember being wheeled into the women’s assessment unit and then there is gap in my memory of about four hours. I don’t if it was because of the pain or if I blocked it out somehow. Apparently during the time I was pretty relaxed and using stress balls. I don’t know if I was given pain relief during this time. I didn’t think to ask afterward. The next I can recall is being taken to the maternity ward. This was 11pm and I was no longer relaxed. The contractions were so painful and I wanted it to stop. I was later told and I can remember a little of asking to go home. Stating that I had changed my mind and I would come back in the morning.
The midwife on shift that night asked me if I wanted an epidural which I decided I didn’t want. It wasn’t apart of my birth plan. Looking over the information she was given by the women’s assessment unit she said she was worried about me getting too tired to push and did not want me to have a cesarean and thought it would be best to accept the epidural so I did. It was a long wait and I was being reminded that I could breathe through the pain which I answered with every time that I can’t that it hurts to much. Finally I was administered the epidural through contractions.
I finally able to rest. Twelve thirty AM a midwife and obstetrician came to break my waters but there was nothing to break so I was given a drug through my drip to speed up labour. I managed to get some sleep and then the morning midwife came in at nine thirty to check how dilated I was. I was ten centimeters and was ready to push. She turned down my epidural so I could feel the contractions and she said she would be back soon and came back with a student midwife.
I didn’t feel ready to push, no overwhelming desire to do so like I had read about but she asked me to push and I did and that started the need to push urge. She was telling me when to push while checking the downstairs area but by this point I was just doing it every time I felt a contraction. After his head was out I was given a mirror and was told to sit up and have a look. That was the moment I cried. After sixteen hours of labour and thirty minutes of pushing my son was born at ten past ten AM. He was placed on my chest screaming and I just stared at him and cried with absolute happiness and the fuzzy feeling of love like I didn’t imagine was possible and he stopped crying and looked at me it was a very magical moment. It felt like a few minutes before I asked of the gender and the midwife told me to take a look. I opened his legs and he was boy. A perfect baby boy.