Birth stories are something that I have always been fascinated by and now, I finally have my own birth story to tell.
It’s the most magical yet horrific story I will ever have to tell. Through all the pain and all the panic, it was more than worth it. I would do it all over again in a heart beat for this bundle of star dust of ours is so so so worth it.
I must admit, I did feel slightly conflicted about sharing my birth story on the internet. It’s such a personal, private experience where all forms of dignity go straight out of the window. That being said, it was such a magical experience that I just want to talk about it all day long. That and I want to have it written down so that I can read back and re-live it in future. And who knows, maybe my beautiful son will one day read his birth story too.
Deciding to actually go ahead and post my birth story is the easy bit though. I have written and re-written this blog a gazillion times. It just needs to be perfect. I feel as though I cannot truly convey the emotion or the atmosphere surrounding my labour. When I try, the blog ends up being longer than a dissertation.
My Birth Story
I decided the best way to share this incredibe experience would be in the form of a time line. So, let me take you right back to 30th December 2019..
30th December 2019 – day
A normal day in the life of Missy T, consisting of two personal training sessions. Followed by the usual Post-Christmas, Pre-New Year happenings (read alot of eating and chilling). Felt a couple of pains during today but given all the pains I have experienced so far in the pregnancy, I thought nothing more of it.
30th December 2019
A sharp pain just shot through my lower abdomen. Oh. That’s a new one.
We are on the way back from McDonald’s (cravings for Maccies Coke) before I realise I’m wincing visibly. Chris asks me what’s wrong and without really thinking I just tell him going over the speed bumps is hurting me. Even though a part of me is almost certain it is happening there is still this niggling doubt it my mind telling me not to get our hopes up.
The pains are coming in regularly now and they are starting to hurt rather alot. Time to tell Chris. I had barely finished saying ‘Babe, I think its happening now’ before seeing the excitement spread across his face. Cute.
31st December – Midnight
Given every body else’s tales of labour and how it drags on for days, Chris and I decide it would be wise to get some sleep whilst we can. Afterall, this might be the last good nights sleep we get for a while!
Sleep. I guess it’s already a thing of the past. The pains, which I have now decided are 100%, most definitely contractions, are coming in thick and fast. I deal with them by myself as best I can before eventually waking Chris.
Now I am a not-so-fun combination of excited and petrified. This hurts. and its only going to get worse. Time to wake Chris. My contractions are sitting at around 5 minutes apart and lasting for around 20 -30seconds a time. I called the hospital who told me to stay at home until contractions are around 2 minutes apart.
Honestly, as soon as I hung up the phone my contractions were every 2 minutes like clockwork. I was convinced that it was just in my head though and the hospital wouldn’t believe me if I called them back. So, I persevered a little longer.
I’ve had the paracetamol as instructed by the hospital and eaten a banana. Unfortunately, my body is having none of it and has brought them straight back up. Throwing up whilst having contractions is an unpleasant experience, that’s for sure.
During this time, Chris is running around me making sure that all the hospital bags are properly packed, hes gotten dressed, put some clothes out for me to wear and then tidied up the bedroom just to keep busy. Bless him.
My contractions are so painful now that I cannot talk through them. I tell Chris its time to go to the hospital. He called them and let them know we were en route.
This is the last time I am aware of the time. It is all a whirlwind from here on in..
After a very difficult and painful drive to the hospital. Followed by a very slow, painful walk including stopping to throw up a couple of times, we arrived at the labour ward where I was promptly taken in to be examined.
Honest.To.God. I flew up the bed when the midwife performed the examination! I am convinced that I’m not even going to be 1cm dilated though and that I will be sent home. It comes as a pleasant (and I use that term loosely) surprise as the midwife informs me I am actually 4cm dilated!
‘Have you thought about pain relief? What do you want?‘ – as those words leave the midwife’s mouth its like music to my dang ears. EVERYTHING. Give me everything I tell her. Before quickly backtracking. I have decided I would like the epidural though.
The delivery suite
I am moving to the delivery suite now. This is the actual room where I will meet my son for the firs time. Is this real? Then another beast of a contraction comes along and reminds me that, Yes. This is in fact real.
I need to throw up again and dive towards the sink dragging the huge monitor I am hooked up to with me.
Time goes by (I assume), more contractions. Getting stronger and stronger. Still no epidural. I turn, very politely I must say, to the midwife and say ‘I really would like that epidural now please.’ She assures me it’s coming. I feel like she is lying.
The next thing I know, she has rang the alarm and four other medical staff swiftly enter the room. One of them dives between my legs and all of a sudden it feels like I am peeing myself. I guess she has just broken my waters I think to myself. Another undresses me completely and replaces my clothes with a surgery gown. The others start looking over my notes and talking to each other in a hushed manner. Through all of this I just look at Chris with fear in my eyes and a look of ‘this isn’t good‘. He returns my look of fear. He is right next to me and hasn’t let go of my hand and I think it is that that is preventing me from entering into a full blown panic attack.
Thankfully everything calms down and the other medical staff leave the room. It turns out the baby’s heart rate has dropped dramatically but it started to pick back up. THANK GOD.
A short while later I turn to the midwife and question ‘I’m not getting that epidural am I?‘ She assures me I am but I know something she doesn’t – ‘He’s coming‘.
She looks at me as though I am lying and then when she checks discovers he actually is coming.
Its a surreal feeling. My body is just doing it all by itself. Completely autonomous to my conscious mind. and it hurts.like.hell.
Once again the medical staff return. They tell me that they are only there to witness ‘a nice, calm and normal birth as they only get to see complicated ones’. I might be in a lot of pain but I see right through this facade. I appreciate the effort but I know something is wrong.
My suspicion is confirmed as the midwife is now attempting to calmly let me know that we need to get him out NOW.
I mean it’s not like I am trying to keep him in there.
I am pushing and pushing and, pushing through my pushing.
I’m shouting. A combination of ‘OWWW ‘ and ‘I CAN’T DO IT!’. Chris, who is still by my side, holding my hand, witnessing everything, is coaching me through – ‘You can do this. Look at you. You are doing it.’ Which actually helped. The midwives have suggested I push without shouting but they don’t realise I am shouting because it helps, not because of the pain.
One of the medical staff tells me she can see his head and he has a lovely head of hair. ‘You can see him? well then why don’t you just PULL HIM OUT THEN‘ is my response.
I hear the chatter between the midwives, them stressing about him needing to be out now and then I hear the dreaded “I’m going to have to cut her”. That is not happening. ‘Please don’t cut me‘ I beg. Again the importance of getting him out is stressed to me. ‘I’ll get him out’, I promise.
With the next contraction and as my body begins to push again, I hold my breath, make some ridiculous face and push with everything I have in me. I can feel my face turning purple, I can see black spots covering my eyes, I am telling myself to hold on, don’t relax, keep pushing, don’t pass out. One of many pep talks I have given myself so far.
I feel his head come out and the midwife notices his chord is wrapped around his neck. She removes it. A popping feeling. Followed by a slippery feeling and some relief. He’s out. He’s here. He is earth side.
I am in complete shock as this gorgeous baby boy that somehow just came out of my tummy is now placed on top of my tummy. I look on as Chris cuts the chord and baby boy is then lifted to my chest. At which point all the medical staff in the room descend upon me. Rubbing the baby, flicking his feet, shaking him until he makes a noise. The sweetest noise I’ve ever heard in my life.
Breathless and still seeing stars I say to my son ‘Hello baby boy.‘ Chris and I have a kiss. It is as this point he lets go of my hand only to place it on our son. I did it. We did it.
With no pain relief, no crying and no swearing (not even when the midwife told me I was made to have babies), I did it.
Welcome to the World Son
At 7.27am on 31st December 2019 our son entered the universe. This moment will be stamped on my heart forever. Today not only marks the end of 2019, it marks the start of the rest of our lives..
Happy New Year.
Thank you for allowing me to share my birth story with you. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have your own birth story to share, please drop me a link below as I would love to read of your experience.