My birth story: Part two

She finally listened, and her and Ashley helped me out of the pool. I had to have an internal examination to see how dilated I was, and I cannot remember for the life of me how many centimetres it was. It was horrible though, she was very gentle but I was just in so much pain. It was changeover, and I had a lovely midwife come in. She introduced herself, and then one of them (I cant remember which one) administered the Pethidine, which I didn't even realise had happened due to the pain.

It started to work almost instantly. It was amazing. The midwife was amazing and I remember feeling so very grateful for her being there. She chatted to me and Ashley about lots of different things, asked what we were having and what name we had chosen. We talked about TV programmes and weather and all sorts of things. If someone had walked into that room, they would never have known I was in labour (although the fact that I was in a birthing suite might have given it away). The room with the pool was separated from the room I was in by a bathroom, and I heard a lady go in and literally scream the place down. I was shocked, and kept saying how I hope I don't end up being like that. Then it all went quiet, and we heard a new-born croaky cry. It was so amazing, to know that someone had just given birth a few metres away from me. I began to feel like I could actually do it too.

The midwife examined me, and I was 9 centimetres. My waters hadn't broken yet, so she said she would break them for me. It was a very odd sensation, literally felt like I was weeing myself. I really though I was, and apologised for doing so. Her and Ashley laughed at me. The Pethidine was definitely starting to wear off, the contractions started getting quite painful after my waters had been broken. I was terrified about being left on my own, and when the midwife had to pop out I would shout begging for her to come back like a mad woman. She had to go just as things starting getting ridiculously unbearable (luckily for her) and I had a man and a student midwife come in.

Whilst pregnant I always cringed slightly at the thought of having a male midwife deliver my baby. I have absolutely no idea why I thought this, and as it happens he was absolutely fabulous. As nice as the second midwife had been, I wish I had been able to have him from start to finish.

Anyway, he persuaded me to try 'the birthing stool'. All sounds rather pleasant, doesn't it?

It was not!

He said it would help me to push. The student midwife (who was also lovely) brought it in, and I sat on it, horrified. It was basically a bucket with the front cut out. I appreciate a lot of birthing ladies have probably found it to be really helpful, but I did not. I felt like my insides were going to literally fall out, and begged him to let me get off. I don't know how long I was on there for, it felt like hours but it was probably about half an hour.

So off I got and I was helped on to the bed. I absolutely could not lie on my back, I was on my knees hunched over the raised end of the bed. And I was screaming like a banshee. Screaming and swearing and howling. I was making noises that I didn't even think were humanly possible. I was frantically smashing the gas and air mouth piece into the bed, what I thought this was going to achieve I do not know, but I couldn't stop doing it. The midwife kept grabbing my ankles to open my legs a bit further, and I kept growling at him to get the f*ck off of them. Poor man. In between contractions I apologised profusely and was disgusted at the way I was carrying on, but once another one started I morphed back into this crazy creature.

Though I joke about the way I was, really I was absolutely inexplicably terrified. I have never been so scared in all my life. I was convinced something was going wrong, that I shouldn't have been in this much pain, that I was going to die. I felt so incredibly out of control, it was a horrible feeling. I had no idea what to do. My body was telling me to push, my midwife was telling me to push, but I kept trying to fight it. I did not want this baby to come out of me. I didn't think it was possible, and I was so sure it would kill me. It was impossible to not push, ladies who have given birth will know exactly what I am on about when I say it is taken out of your hands and your body just pushes, whether you want to or not.

In those moments I was totally oblivious to everything around me. I took no notice of the midwife, of Ashley, of anything. I was in a bubble filled with pain and fear. I was totally lost, terror gripping me. Even between contractions, towards the end, I was unable to calm myself down, because I knew there was another one about to start. Ashley said he suddenly felt like he couldn't do it, couldn't watch what was unfolding in front of his eyes and he wanted to walk out. Though I probably wouldn't have even noticed at the time, I am so glad he didn't!

So I pushed and pushed. I've no idea how long for, over an hour at least. And suddenly I felt something. I felt that she was about to come out. The midwife told me to stop pushing and breathe but I couldn't, I was terrified of what was about to happen and continued to push until she was out. And even then I wasn't fully aware of what had happened and was still screaming.

Finally, at 4.28am on Sunday 1st December, she was born weighing an impressive 8lb 2oz.

Find part one HERE
Find part three HERE.