The first part is
here.
I thought I'd better write the second part of Beanie's birth story, at least for myself, before I forget it. It's already going to be somewhat curtailed as I'm sure I've forgotten parts of it already. This has only reinforced my personal view that the birth experience is not very important as long as you get a healthy mother and child out of it. I am lucky enough to be fully recovered and distracted by my happy healthy baby instead of focusing on the details of his birth, see?
After my waters were broken, the contractions started coming faster and harder. My mother and DH stayed throughout. I think the
oxytocin drip was still being gradually increased but honestly I can't remember. I squeezed
DH's hand through each contraction. Sometimes my mum gave me her hand but since her hand was smaller and finer than
DH's, I felt bad about squeezing it and so didn't squeeze as hard and it wasn't as effective.
At some point the on-call paediatrician stuck his head round the door and introduced himself. He asked if we had any questions. He knew that V had died. I asked about the types of checks he would do on Beanie once he was born. He explained them briefly and then left.
My OB came in to check me again and she told me that for an epidural it was now or never*. Any later would not be worth it. I told her that if the contractions stayed the way they were, they hurt but I could handle it. She told me that they would get worse. She said that she thought it was a good idea to have an epidural but that of course it would not be done against my will. At the next contraction I said okay but I wanted it light, so I could still feel something. With V I also had an epidural and then couldn't feel anything at all, no contractions, nothing. Also I knew that if we had to go to an emergency C-section, I would already have everything in place and a blood test that morning had shown all my platelets, clotting factors etc. to be absolutely normal.
Now this isn't a strong criticism as such as I don't really care that much in the big scheme of things (see first paragraph). My OB was clearly pro-epidural and encouraged me to have one. I didn't feel forced into it though. I am lucky to have an excellent relationship with her and I trusted her. But had she said, "the contractions will get worse but it's possible to manage them and I will support you doing that too," I probably would have tried to go without. On the other hand it was an induced labour, which is supposed to bring on stronger contractions. So who knows?
The anaesthetist was called and came into to do the epidural. I think everyone left the room apart from the midwife to let him do his work - including my mum, as she is a retired anaesthetist and I guess it would have been weird for my anaesthetist. I rolled onto my side and the contractions were probably a minute apart. I might be wrong about that though, I sure as hell wasn't timing them.
"You should have called me earlier!" exclaimed the anaesthetist to the midwife. "The contractions are too close together!"
"Yes, but she didn't want it," said the midwife.
Anyway the epidural line went in and he also got a spinal block to make the pain relief faster. I got the standard cold feeling and numbed legs. My mum came back in and even though she didn't ask, the anaesthetist explained in English to her (she doesn't speak French) exactly what he had done. That was a nice professional courtesy, I thought.
I could still feel the contractions, which I was glad about. They weren't hurting like hell anymore either.
I don't know what time it was and cannot remember how dilated they said I was when my OB came back and stayed in the room. The bottom part of the bed was detached for better access and some sort of equipment was readied - can't remember what but it must have included a scalpel in case of
episiotomy. When V was born, my OB used a
ventouse so maybe that was prepared just in case?
The contractions became quite painful again and although I didn't say anything, it was pretty clear. My epidural was topped up a bit. It was time to push.
I remember these words very well from my OB. "
Videz,
inspirez,
bloquez." Empty your lungs, breathe in and block before pushing. It was like a little mantra. "
Videz,
inspirez,
bloquez."
At some point Beanie's heart rate went down. I was given an oxygen mask. It went back up again. It all happened so quickly I didn't have time to register and panic.
"We can see a head of black hair!" said my OB. "A few more pushes and he's here!"
Another contraction came. "
Inspirez,
bloquez!" said the midwife. I happened to have just breathed in and looked at her in confusion as I got my breathing all wrong.
Doh! My OB understood perfectly and smiled as she said, "
Videz,
inspirez,
bloquez!" Simple instructions I could follow!
And here comes the huge contrast with V's birth. It struck me. A third nurse came in with warm towels. There were smiles and a joyous "
Bonjour!" A heat lamp was switched on. A changing mat was prepared. None of that happened with V. With A. I wasn't even in a delivery room, just an ordinary hospital room, in my own bed. No third nurse, the one to look after the baby, was necessary. The lights were not bright and nor was the tone.
At the last minute, my OB did an small
episiotomy, along the line of the one I had with V. She later told me she thought the old one was about to tear and wanted to be on the safe side. One last push.
Beanie came out screaming his head off. I looked at him as he was held in front of me and cried a few tears. Actually I thought I would have sobbed in emotion, but I didn't, just shed a few spontaneous tears. He had his nose wiped, was quickly wrapped up and placed on my chest, skin to skin. He was so small, smaller than V., who was born almost a gestational month later. He wrapped a strand of my hair tightly around his finger and went to sleep.
"Did you see that! He's holding on to his mother's hair!" said my OB, whose face was still smiling widely.
A few minutes later, the paediatrician came back and said, "every thing okay? - do you want me to come back and check later?"
My OB, who knew me well, looked at me and said, "perhaps check now, no?" I said yes. DH went into the next room with the midwife, Beanie and the paediatrician. Beanie started wailing loudly again. I was left with my mother and the OB. I told her I wanted to look at the placenta. It delivered all in one piece and she examined it before showing both sides to me. "This was your side, and this was Beanie's side," she said, showing me the network of blood vessels.
"Ten ten ten!" the midwife called from the next room where Beanie was still wailing.
"Are those the
Apgars?" I asked my OB. "I wasn't expecting that at all."
"Can't you hear him yelling out loud?!" said my OB with a big smile.
DH and the midwife came back in. DH had tears pouring down his face. Beanie was given back to me, skin to skin again, whereupon he promptly stopped wailing and went to sleep again. The paediatrician told us all was fine, but he still came back about an hour later to do a detailed exam under the lamp in the delivery room where everything was even more fine.
Later on the midwife told us Beanie had the cord round his neck and that's why his heart rate had gone down. I was a little shocked. I asked my OB about it and she told me the cord had not been around his neck, but around his torso. So it had squeezed him a bit. I felt again how risky birth is but I didn't have to dwell and dwell on it, turning it around in my mind, as, well, Beanie made it.
Thus concludes Beanie's happy birth story. I got it finished more than six months after the event.
*Updated - I just found the beginnings of an old draft post which I had started for Beanie's birth story part II. Goes to show the details I have forgotten. My OB stepped out for a minute and the midwife gave me a cervical exam to check my cervical length and dilation. It really hurt and I cried out in pain and cried some tears of pain as well. At this point my OB came back in and she saw I was crying in pain and then told me now or never for the epidural.
