The journey back into the hospital was a lot more nerve-racking for my husband and I this time. We knew it was going to happen. I was terrified. Funnily enough, come to think of it, I was scared the whole 7 months I was pregnant! Scared of giving birth (which I am sure is a common fear amongst all women in general), scared of the health of my baby, scared of the kind of mother I was going to be. Pretty common fears I believe, but none the less still enough to cause some anxiety. It was the unknown that really got to me. I like to make plans and stick to those plans, but I quickly learnt that childbirth was something you can’t necessarily plan for as my ‘child birth plan’ was thrown out the window on the way to the hospital in labour for the first time. Experiencing the emotions of ‘fear of the unknown’ and ‘anxiety’ is very much a normal part of pregnancy.
Arriving into the hospital I was taken into the birthing suite and hooked up to the machines. The contractions were definitely bearable, but were getting steadily stronger and longer, however, once again they weren’t showing up on the machines. “Come on! Again!?” The midwife began to question whether they were infact contractions. Again, Braxton Hicks was assumed but I was adamant and a little pushy on insisting they were not Braxton Hicks. It wasn’t until my Obstetrician came in and said I was 2cm dilated. It was go time.
But time dragged, as it does with labour. All up I was in labour for about 13 hours (not including the first labour), which to me, was definitely long enough. As my story goes, I didn’t even get to the extreme end where you actually have to push a watermelon size baby out of a small hole. Eeeek, here comes that anxiety again. I absolutely sympathise with the women who are in labour for much longer, and some even days. They are so strong to get through that.
Upon arriving to the hospital around lunch time, it wasn’t until about 10pm I was told that it was necessary for me to be transferred to a Sydney hospital as no hospitals in the area deliver babies who are so premature. An ambulance arrived and off I went. My husband ‘followed’ in his car, eventually taking over and arriving before me. His adrenalin had definitely kicked in. Cruising along the freeway with contractions brought back memories of my first labour and driving back from the wedding, timing contractions along the way. This time I was worried of course, but I felt we were in safe hands.
We were about 15 minutes from the hospital when the midwife looked at me and realised that the contractions must have gotten worse. I was concentrating hard on my breathing and getting through each one. She ordered the driver to go faster, so on came the sirens and we were cruising no more. Speeding.
Arriving at the hospital I was taken up to the birthing suite and once again hooked up to the machines. By this time I was 6cm dilated. After another ultrasound we had discovered the baby was breech and the hope of a natural birth was dwindling. I was also told that because our baby was premature that a natural birth was a risk. Looked like a Cesarean was on the cards.
I was under the impression that now I knew I was going to have a C-section it would be happening right away, particularly as my pain threshold was decreasing. ‘Sweet’ I thought, ‘goodbye contractions, hello baby’. However I was disappointed to learn that the doctors believed it would be best to wait until I was dilated further. More waiting. More contractions. Time went by unbelievably slowly and soon when it took a couple more hours to dilate only 1 more centimetre, I was going in. Off to the operating table I went…
Side note: Click on this link to L’il Aussie Prems Foundation public forum for all mum’s: http://forum.lilaussieprems.com.au/forum.php
PremmieMum 