My Birth Story (Part 1)
My birth story. Something that many people have asked about. And the one subject I haven’t really explored on my blog. Not because I don’t want people to know about it. It just wasn’t a straight forward, picture perfect experience, so it seems a bit of an effort to retell really (but then who does have a straight forward birth story anyway? It’s not like the stork delivers a baby like you’ve primed it and requested next day delivery…) So I guess my story will add to all of the other fabulous, strong women who have endured this crazy adventure into motherhood.
I decided to work as far as I could to my due date so that I would spend as much time as possible with my newborn babies. As if I had planned it (you know I like to be organised), I said goodbye to my fabulous work colleagues on the Friday, bought the last minute baby items over that weekend, finally finished the whole of Gossip Girl on the Monday and had the twins’ surprise arrival on the Tuesday. I’d say that was pretty good planning.
I was 35 weeks plus 5 days when the twins were born. Let me take you back to that time. It was a Monday, my first official day of maternity leave. It was a strange feeling not getting up to go to work, although I must admit, by that time my body was so exhausted carrying two little ones that even breathing was strenuous. So I tried to take it easy. Nap when I needed. Ate when I was hungry. It was now a waiting game.
I remember cooking dinner for Pete as soon as he arrived home from work. It was a typical evening. We sat together, ate dinner, chatted about the day, tidied up and went to bed. The third trimester is an extremely frustrating period as you can never get more than 2 hours sleep at a time due to your poor bladder being forever squashed by your growing bump. As I was getting up every couple of hours to use the bathroom, it meant that Pete was also woken up every two hours. So sleep really was a treat for us.
2.45am I woke up for the 4th time that night to use the loo. As I got into the bathroom my tummy didn’t feel right. Maybe it was something I ate at dinner? That’s when it happened. The moment that you’ve been waiting for throughout the whole of your pregnancy. The sign that your babies are on their way. My waters broke.
Oh. My. Goodness.
It was like I went into ultra efficient mode. I called for Pete, who came stumbling across the hallway in a sleepy state, not knowing what to do. I remember distinctively saying as he fumbled around trying to tap the hospital number into his phone: ‘I am going to be really bossy now, ok?’ Of course the poor thing had no other response than ‘Yes ok’. As soon as he got off the phone to the midwife I started giving the first instruction: ‘Right Pete, you need to get dressed’ ‘Next, please can you make sure my hospital notes are in the bag’ ‘Can you top up my water bottle for the journey?’ the instructions went on. As I brushed my hair (I know, I’m vain, even when I’m about to give birth…) and finished dressing I remember looking around our bedroom one last time thinking: This is going to be the last time we step into this home as a family of two. Totally and utterly bonkers.
We stumbled into our uber, sat in the back holding hands and giggled to each other. This was so surreal. I was surprisingly really calm as I wasn’t having any contractions (lucky for Pete I’d say). With it being just after 3am, the streets were very quiet so the drive was very smooth. When we arrived at the hospital we had to wander the hallways trying to find the right ward. We went up to one floor, realised that wasn’t the correct one, so had to hobble my way back down to the floor below (remembering that my waters had actually burst so I really needed to see someone quiet urgently).
Eventually we found the correct ward, took a seat and waited to go in. There was a young girl and her boyfriend also waiting to be taken in. She was having regular contractions bless her and her poor partner had no idea what to do. He just paced the floor, nervous sweat dripping from his forehead, obviously wishing for a midwife to appear soon to save him (and obviously his girlfriend) from this ordeal. I know it’s us women that go through the labour but I do feel for the partners who have to stand back and be a spare part, not having the slightest idea on how to actually be helpful. I felt for them. Surprisingly we were actually taken through first, it seemed having twins gives you a free pass.
The hours went by and many different midwives, doctors and consultants came to speak to us. After having a scan they explained that although Twin 1 (we didn’t know the gender) was in the head down position, ready to be delivered, Twin 2 had decided to wedge their feet underneath Twin 1’s head, therefore creating a blockage (can you guess which baby was Twin 2?). So delivery by cesarean section it was.
It happened to be an audit day for the hospital which meant there were no scheduled operations in theatre…so we were able to get gowned up and taken straight down.
Oh my. We are actually going to have babies…like RIGHT NOW. So, so surreal. I don’t think I processed it really. Pete and I just went along with what the doctors were telling us to do.
That’s when we started walking down the corridor towards the theatre room.
Here we go.
Find out what happens next in Part 2, coming up next week!
What Was Your Birthing Experience?
What was your birthing experience like?
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