I explained to the man that I wasn’t going in until I had a decent breakfast. So while he ran around like a headless chicken making sure everything was ready, and the hospital bag had all the essentials, I stuck on a Lee Evans DVD and ate a bowl of rice krispies.
Once I had double checked everything was packed in the hospital bag myself, and the man had fitted the car seat we headed off to the hospital which was about half hour away in another town. It was probably the strangest car ride I had ever experienced what with being wired up to the tens machine, listening to the music I made and knowing that we were soon to become a family of 3.
We got to the hospital not long before midday and was shown to the labour ward. The midwife introduced herself as Yvonne and told me she would be there with me throughout the whole thing as long as the baby was out by the end of her shift!
By this time the contractions were becoming more painful, so I was shown a tank of gas and air, and we became instant friends. It did have a rather strange effect on me though; it changed my personality completely. One minute I was having a swearing fit about the TV being on and apparently I repeatedly swore until it was turned off, the next minute I was making rude propositions to the man.
Yvonne suggested that I tried a bath to ease the pain but after a few minutes I felt uncomfortable, I went back to the bed, but this was still uncomfortable. I tried the birthing ball, but I couldn’t even get my legs around it, she explained that he had lowered and ushered me onto the bed so that she could have a look. At this point it really did get painful, I just remember lots of screaming and lots of cursing at the an which I doubt was from the gas & air.
Right from the beginning and throughout I stated that I didn’t want an epidural, I started to scream for one as well screaming for every other drug available, but Yvonne and the man put their foot down and said no. She said I was almost there and not long after saying that I had the urge to push. I was told it wasn’t time to push and that I shouldn’t but I couldn’t help but try a push, that premature push that I did resulted in Oli having a bruise at the back of head.
After a few more minutes I was told I was allowed to push. I pushed, and I pushed until it felt like I had just squeezed a rugby ball out of my arse sideways. But this wasn’t a rugby ball, and it didn’t come out of my arse.
I had given birth.
I gave birth at 3.27pm to a boy weighing in at 7lb 14oz. We named him Oliver David Harris.
The original plan was for him to be put straight onto my chest, but this didn’t happen. I didn’t want to know him at first. I was in so much shock from what had just happened; it took a while for the placenta to come out so was freaking out with that and was shocked at the size of it. I think I had mentally prepared myself for a 40+ hour labour as I have read and heard about many times. I didn’t think it would all be over in one day like that.
While the man saw to Oli and got him dressed, I had a bath and calmed down from the shock. I got dressed and then hugged Oli. Oh, how I cuddled him, I have bought this tiny little life into this world, and it felt amazing knowing that.