I’ve written Little F’s birth story and have been meaning to do the same for my youngest boy for a fair while. No more delays, here it is!
On the 11th February 2013 in the late evening i started getting some braxton hicks, I’d had heaps in this pregnancy in comparison to the grand total of zero i got with F, so i didn’t think much of it and i was able to sleep just fine.
On the morning of the 12th J had to be up in London for a meeting and i had a hair appointment. The BH were continuing but for some inane reason i still didn’t think it was the real thing (exactly what i said last time, when i was also wrong). I convinced J it was fine to go and that he would be back in plenty of time regardless, so off he trundled to the station.
Meanwhile i focused on the more important matter of getting get my roots done, yep i may have been in early labour but when the hell else was i going to be able to get them done if not then? Plus if I was going to look tired, and make up free in birth photos the least i wanted was one tone hair.
shortly before bump became baby
Things started getting a bit more intense in the hairdressers and when J phoned to see how I was doing he decided to ignore my request to go to the meeting anyway and get off the train and head back – this was as it turns out, a wise choice.
30 minutes later whilst shopping for red wine and malt bread (both highly important supplies for early labour) in Sainsbury’s Local my waters went. Sorry to disappoint but it was not dramatic and no i didn’t get any free shopping, Instead i did what most people would in such a situation, I waddled quickly out hoping to god that it was not, em, noticeable.
I called the hospital when i got home and because my waters were green with meconium, i was asked to come in right away as it could mean the baby was distressed. I was so glad at that point that J was back at work in Brighton as I couldn’t imagine catching a cab on my own.
Everything suddenly went from 0-60. One minute i was trying to take bump selfies in an examination room, while J parked the car, and the next it was all properly kicking off. The contractions were getting longer and stronger so i was given gas and air – it did take the edge off the pain but i generally found punching the window sills a better distraction technique.
After another 15-20 minutes or so everything started to feel very odd and heavy – i just remember saying ‘This all feels very wrong’ and the midwife replying ‘Don’t worry that’s just the baby coming down’.
At around this point the contractions reached an unbearable point and i was begging for stronger pain relief. The midwife said ‘Can you cope with it for another 20 minutes?’ I was flabbergasted that she thought it could be that quick but knew i could hold out if she was right. I remember feeling very scared though, I had an epidural last time so i had no idea what the pushing stage would actually feel like.
It was all so quick from then on in, even the midwife seems quite shocked, she had popped out of the room for a second when the baby started coming. I don’t remember being told to push – i just did it. I was very lucky – yes it was bloody painful but it was mercifully quick. One minute i was being asked to take my leggings off and the next there was a baby between my knees on the floor.
‘What is it, what is it’ I remember asking J, again he would be the one to tell me.
‘I can’t see….oh wait its a boy!’
And so we became parents to our second perfect baby son ‘S’ born at 4.43pm and weighing 7lb 4oz. A rather handsome chap if i do say so myself!
It wasn’t all plane sailing afterwards, i lost nearly a litre of blood and i had to go on a plasma drip for a few hours. I got incredibly cold, weak and anxious. I had about five blankets on me but i was still shivering. I felt like i was about to die, and although i was never in any real danger, to me it was very scary.
We finally got placed on a ward at about 2am and oh what good luck, next to a women who snored like a walrus (or at least what i imagine a walrus must snore like). The nurses kept having to come and wake her up to feed her baby as she was totally oblivious to her cries – meanwhile i couldn’t sleep a wink; not least because of the snoring walrus but because of the fact i had just become a Mummy for the second time and my mind was racing.
I was still in shock that i had actually given birth as i was just expecting it all to be exactly the same as last time (LONG). There is a small part of me even now that feels strangely cheated that i never got to recreate the ‘eating a whole loaf or Soreen and drinking a large glass of red in the bath’ experience. I am however incredibly grateful that S was born just 3 hours after my waters breaking and after only an hour of what i would call ‘proper pain’.
I finally managed to grab a quick kip at about 6am for an hour and woke up tired but happy. The women next to me was on the phone complaining she had hardly slept (?!) as everyone kept waking her up all the time (YEP TO FEED YOUR BABY!) Seriously what planet are some people on?
very tired, very happy selfie
I fed by new son, got some breakfast and really, really enjoyed this special time alone with him in hospital. I was so eager to get out the door last time around, i knew this time it needed to be treasured. J came in a shortly later and my mum bough F to meet his new brother after lunch. I think he was pretty perplexed by the whole thing and feeling uneasy being in the hospital; he was however very happy with his gift of a fire engine!
Strangely I remember being utterly convinced at that moment that i wanted another baby almost right away, i have since come to my senses and I’m pretty sure this is how we will remain :)
first photo as a family of four – shortly before heading home for tea