So the decision was made that I would be having a cesarean and a date was booked. I can't say that the reality of having an actual date bought me anymore calm about the delivery of my baby. I just lived in constant fear that something, somewhere along the line would go wrong, that I would be told again I was fine when everything wasn't fine. Well as the universe would have it the stars aligned on a different date April 23rd 2008, my waters broke and our baby decided he wasn't going to wait around for another 2 weeks......it's show time.
I was laying on our lounge and DH was giving me a back massage as had been the case for many, many weeks at that point. DH had just asked me to turn around so he could rub the other side of my back when I said those words "my waters just broke". Straight away DH says "right what do you want me to do?" I just tell him that I just need a second to go to the toilet and get myself organised and then we will go from there. After which I call the hospitals delivery suite to advise that my waters have broken and I am having some pain. I am advised that due to eight babies being born in the last 2 hours they don't have a bed for me. I am told to give it an hour or two and then head in and they should have a bed for me then. We call our dear friend and tell her its show time and ask if she will drop over to get our spare house keys so that she can drop back by in the morning to feed our animals etc. She comes on over and spends the next hour or two trying to keep our minds occupied. I must add now, that although I knew logically that my waters had broken and I was in pain, I was in complete and utter denial that I was having a baby. Our friend assured me that it was show time, to which I kept telling her to shut up its not funny, I'm probably going to go in and be told its all in my head nothing is happening. But no she kept giving that look, to which I kept giving the whatever, shut up, leave me alone look.
Just when it was about time to look at leaving home to head into the hospital my back pain was starting to increase and I was more then happy to be on our way to hospital. Now some of the following hours are a bit hazy and I suspect a lot of that has to do with my denial of being in labour, I know now that it was my minds way of protecting me from further hurt. I can tell you that once in delivery suite and monitors are put on me I did ask a midwife what was happening to me (in other words was I going home). She confirmed no you are having contractions and yes you will be having your baby but it will be a while yet! Yikes are you serious? No, I tell her and DH this is not happening! This is not happening! This can't be happening for real, can it, I'm actually going to have a baby soon! To which I am assured yes, yes you are! The midwife who was appointment to me was the head midwife and understood my previous history and understood my mental and emotional state and was very gentle in her reassurance and approach to me. She understood my fear and my reluctance to accept the fact that I was in labour, and why I just wanted to run away.
The midwife arranged for the doctor to see me and when he arrived he was all humour and I was all not laughs. He really was sweet, but I was in no mood for games. He talked to me about my toe nail polish colour selection and proceeded to tell me that I had chosen a popular colour amongst delivery mothers that night ha ha ha I thought (not). The doctors humour does turn to business and he proceeds with an internal examination and confirms that I at least 5cm dilated. He and the midwife tell me that I am doing really well to of got thus far no pain relief, or protest for anything. The doctor speaks with me and asks if I still wish to proceed with the cesarean delivery or would I like to try natural. At this point I am so much further in denial after the internal examination that I am having a baby and such fear about things I tell him I have to go through with the cesarean I can't keep going on for hours with worry, trauma, flashbacks and pain and wondering if I will have a baby this time at the end of it all. He understands completely and advises he will start making the necessary calls and preparations for theater. I am advised that I am going to have endure some time yet of labour pains etc until theater will be clear for me to go down.
I can not tell you how much longer I waited before I started being prep for theater but I can only tell you that pain got worse. The only pain I had was all in my back now where else and I found it more traumatic rather then painful having been through this with Elle and Meg. Mind you I should add that the pain in my back, yes is the worst physical pain I have ever experienced in my life but physical pain took a back seat to emotional pain here. DH kept trying to rest in a chair beside the bed and I kept asking him to get up and rub my back when my contractions were causing me such intense back pain. The pain was intensifying to such a point I told him he was not to sit back down, because by the time he would get his arse out the chair and to rubbing my back it was too late. So DH does what I ask but rests his head on shoulder whilst rubbing my back. I can tell you for a short period of time just before I am taken to theater the pain starts to reach a new level where I am starting to panic about how painful it is and start saying things like I am going into the zone were I can't cope. I ask how long until I go to surgery, because I am starting to feel like I am going to lose control. My midwife suggests I try gas and I do it helps somewhat but I protest to DH that it feels like I have been out on a bender all night......to which he finds that entertaining. Its announced its show time they're taking me to theater, I ask if the gas is coming with me, to which I'm told no it has to stay here for the next person.......ohhh noooo, how am I meant to cope. Well of course I do cope, through verbal support from DH and my midwife.
Sitting on the cold hard table crunched over with the midwife holding me whilst others work on putting a needle in my back to administer the spinal block, my midwife asks how I am doing. I tell her I am having a contraction, it passes and then I tell her this is not happening and tell her I would like to get off the table and leave. Of course that's ridiculous I can't, I'm about to have a baby. I can't really recall much in the way of sounds and sensation whilst they are cutting me open, I guess that's because of my denial. I know I hear the docs say they have him out and I ask if the crying I can hear is him, is it my baby crying, is it a good cry, is he alright? Through tears DH assures me everything is fine and he is just so, so, so proud of me. DH goes over to the nurses whilst our son is being swaddled and then my son is bought to me and a see him properly and touch him and kiss him for the first time. I don't get much time with my son and DH, as he has to go to the nursery whilst I am stitched up. I'm in a daze though, has this all really happened, do I really have a baby......I must say in those moments in recovery it was the first time about 16 months I experience complete and utter relief.
So there you have it on the morning of April 24th 2009 at 4.16am our son was born.