Labour Day!!!

And so, to complete the tale of my second pregnancy, I want to share with you a day that irrevocably changed my life.

Monday, 20th September 2010, marked the due date for my second baby, a boy. This date had been imprinted in my mind ever since we first glimpsed our little ‘Beanie’ baby on the sonographer’s screen. Given that Little Bean had arrived nearly two weeks late, I wasn’t holding my breath for an on-time arrival. Despite my fervent hopes, my expectations were grounded.

Labour day

As that fateful Monday dawned, I penned a blog post titled “Where are you, baby?” so certain was I that the day would pass uneventfully. Yet, mere minutes after hitting publish, the unexpected happened – my hind waters broke! I hastily updated my blog with “I’m in labour!!”, and the journey began.

We rushed to the hospital to confirm the waters had broken. Unlike the dramatic gush often depicted, mine was a mere trickle. The hospital confirmed the break, but with my forewaters still intact, I was sent home with instructions to return in 48 hours for induction if labour didn’t progress.

Hoping to hasten things along, we took Little Bean for a walk, which soon became uncomfortably challenging. Settling her for the night, I sensed that our little boy was on his way.

However, as I relaxed at home, everything stopped. Frustrated and disappointed, we tried to sleep.

But at midnight, restlessness took over. The next two hours were a flurry of activity – pacing, climbing stairs, and frequent bathroom trips. Contractions began in earnest. We contacted the hospital and prepared for our second visit, calling my mother to watch Little Bean.

The short car journey to the hospital was agony. I struggled to cross the car park due to the intensity of the contractions. Once in the delivery room, I expressed my hope to be significantly dilated. To my surprise and relief, I was already at 6cm.

As contractions intensified, I experienced a panic attack, overwhelmed by the pain and the situation. Hubby’s support helped me regain composure, and I was soon off the bed, pacing and using a birthing ball.

Midwives changed shifts, and with each transition, my contractions inexplicably stalled. I envied a woman across the corridor deep in her labour pains. With the arrival of my third midwife, Lisa, contractions resumed. However, I had regressed to 5cm dilated.

As the morning progressed, my labour advanced, though not without more pauses and frustrations. I reminisced about my first labour’s relative brevity, feeling impatient with this seemingly endless process.

Desperate for relief, I repeatedly requested an epidural, but it seemed destined not to be part of my experience.

Finally, at 11:20 am, the urge to push became irresistible. Despite initial resistance, I succumbed to the process, pushing with all my might. Misinterpretation of the baby’s heart rate monitor added a moment of terror, but Hubby’s reassurance helped me refocus.

After an intense 18 minutes, my son was born, a moment of pure joy and relief.

However, the challenges weren’t over. The delivery of the placenta was difficult, and I was informed of a third-degree tear that required surgical repair. The sensation of being operated on without feeling anything was surreal.

Post-surgery, my low blood pressure caused complications, but amidst it all, I remained focused on the incredible result – my little boy.

In some ways, this labour was easier than my first, but in others, it was harder. Yet, the constant remains: the boundless love for my child. Despite the pain and challenges, they are, without a doubt, worth every moment.

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