I haven’t written a blog post in a long, long time. Despite the fact that I’ve done some great stuff in the last few months, that I wanted to write about, I just haven’t had the time. I barely have time to write a paragraph of my WIP, never mind blog posts. But I’m not complaining because as a writer, I am all about creation and my husband and I have created the most amazing thing ever.
Meet my daughter, Isabella.
Izzy was born on the 26th July 2015 at 8.51pm. It was not an easy labour. She was 10 days overdue, and although she was fine, my blood pressure had shot up so I had to be induced. I went into the hospital on the Saturday morning to get things going. Without going into too much detail, a pessary is placed against the cervix to get it opening.
We spent the whole day at the hospital with nothing happening so Hubby went home around 10pm to feed guinea pigs and said he’d be back in the morning. You guessed it. About an hour after he left, the contractions started so back he came.
What sucks about being induced is that your body’s natural painkiller does not kick in. I was on my own for a while until he got back but my sister was WhatsApping with me the whole time until Hubby came back, which kept me calm.
I’m not going to lie; when the pain began to kick in I felt like my back was breaking. I was not expecting that. They gave me co-codimol, which made me throw up. A lot. By that time, I was 4cm dilated so down to delivery we went.
I made it to 7cm on only gas and air. Gas and air is awesome. You are essentially high but it doesn’t pass across the placenta. You are only supposed to inhale when there is pain but, as I mentioned, my back felt like it was breaking the whole time, so I had it in my mouth all the time. I passed out a few times and they pulled the thing out of my mouth.
I also babbled a lot and apparently said some really weird shit. I only told my husband that I didn’t like him once. Seriously, that’s as angry as I got.
Eventually, the gas and air just stopped working and I needed something stronger. I wanted pethidine but as I had dilated to 7cm in less than 5 hrs, they thought the baby would be there soon and as pethidine passes the placenta and makes the baby sleepy, we went for an epidural.
Seriously, I should have put my foot down about the pethidine. One of the side effects of an epidural can be that everything slows down or stops. Yup. Slowed everything down. I was labour for another 16 hours. I couldn’t feel anything, which was a blessing and a curse. I had to go on the drip to get me to 10cm and then, because of the epidural, I couldn’t feel when to push.
Our midwife was amazing and she kept both me and Adam sane, especially when you could hear other women screaming around you (some of which had no pain relief. Hats off to you ladies). I was pushing for an hour and a half and Izzy wasn’t for moving. (Her heartrate stayed steady for the entire labour, wasn’t stressed at all). I had to have a forceps delivery. I was wheeled into a really bright delivery theatre (it looked like a frigging space ship) Adam was shoved into scrubs, I had so many drugs shoved into my spine that I could only feel my face. Forceps arrived, they tried to grab the baby and slip. They had to cut me and I really didn’t want to be cut but if forceps didn’t work, I’d have to have a C-section. I couldn’t feel anything but suddenly there was this amazing pull and a little cry rang out. My daughter is placed on my chest and the world stops.
I vaguely remember Adam moving to cut the cord and hearing it was short but don’t know how anything else went, other than Adam going ‘That’s a lot of blood’ when I was wheeled into recovery. I kind of faded in and out but do remember a very lovely sister getting me tea and toast and giving me a quick bed wash until I could get a shower.
Sadly, we had to stay in for a few days which had something to do with checking Izzy for infection. My parents flew on Monday so were down for afternoon visiting. Adam came for visiting slots the first two days so he could tidy the house a wee bit but then stayed the whole day the next two days. He couldn’t stay at night, however, and that made things a bit hard. Especially as the child in the next bed wouldn’t stop cursing about the noise as I tried to feed my baby. She was awful, racist and vicious, commenting on everyone else in the room and getting particularly nasty about my parents for some reason when they left. She had had her 2nd baby and she’d just turned 17 from what I could gather from her loud protestations. She also told the story of the birth so many times that 5 months later I can still remember it. She also couldn’t read the word ‘banana’ and got really pissy when her boyfriend said it for her. Other people are odd man.
I was the only woman in the room who was trying to breastfeed in my wee room and it was hard. I couldn’t get her to latch either side because she had a cannula in her left arm for the administration of antibiotics. One night a midwife sat with me for 45 minutes to get her to latch and it didn’t seem to work. But we got there eventually; just as we were getting ready to go home, Izzy just got it and fed for 45 minutes. Must have been hungry. She’d also lost 10.3% of her birth weight so the breastfeeding team came out to help me in the first few days. The NHS took really good care of us and I could not be more grateful.
My little monkey was 5 months old on Boxing Day and has already had so many amazing adventures: she flew to Cavan in Ireland when she was 6 weeks old (slept the whole time) she went to BristolCon at 2 months, FantasyCon at 3 months, she’s already said ‘Dada’, can blow bubbles and her first two teeth are coming through. She’s met Logan, goes to Tots Time, we start Monkey Music next week and swimming. She’s been into work a few times when I’ve visited. Adam and I are so blessed to have her in our lives.
Until next time.