And so she arrives

Following on from my post earlier in the week (The build up to birth) which I left with a sort of dramatic soap style cliff hanger I fear Amy’s birth story may be lacking in the required drama!

I hadn’t expected to sleep well the night before. I expected to be nervous, restless and generally unsettled . . . Kirsty had asked me if I was excited and said she thought it might feel a bit like Christmas Eve – I think because nobody really knew we would be having Amy the next day it didn’t really feel real, it hadn’t sunk in. I wasn’t anywhere near as nervous as I had expected to be.

I think it was probably the silver lining of the dreadful previous night’s sleep in hospital which allowed me to sleep reasonably well. I took my prescribed dose of Ranitidine and took myself off to bed reasonably early.  I woke somewhat conveniently at 11.30pm and had a massive bowl of cereal (I was nil by mouth from midnight) and then pretty much slept through the night (bar the odd toilet trip and turning over to alleviate my sore hips).

We had to be at the hospital for 7.30am so it was a pretty early start – with no breakfast for me! We dropped Ben and Chloe off at the childminder early doors telling them that we had to do jobs to get ready for Beak arriving.  

We arrived at the hospital and after sitting in a waiting area for a matter of minutes we were whisked off to the labour ward – everything seemed to happen really quickly.  I was taken to a room, asked lots of questions, checked some paperwork, had the most powerful (almost painful) shower that I’ve ever had in my life, asked some more questions . . . people came and went, introducing themselves as anaesthetists, the doctors who would be performing the surgery, midwives . . . I had a quick scan as they couldn’t decide if Amy was breach or not (though what difference it made considering her exit route I don’t know) . . . Then all of a sudden it all stopped.  

A midwife came and explained they had decided to do the other patient first as I might need more time in recovery and that was that.  The longest two hours of my life ensued.  We text a few people to let them know there wouldn’t be news until lunch time as we didn’t want them to worry and then just sat there. Time stops when you’re waiting to be taken for surgery.  In fairness I had expected a long wait but I guess I had expected to be waiting before they prepared me not afterwards.

Of course this two hour wait just allowed the nerves to build.

The bit I hate most about the whole process is the anaesthetic – I hate sitting on the edge of that bed on my own.  Of course I’m not on my own, at one point I had five people poking and prodding at me – sticking needles in my hands, checking my blood pressure, poking at my spine . . . but what I want at that moment is Dave to be there to hold my hand and distract me.  

I had to really concentrate on being “ok” and not thinking about what was happening.   Once the spinal started to take hold and I was laid out on the bed I started to feel really sick – all I could think was “this is going to be a really horrible experience, I feel so poorly” but within moments of me uttering the words “I feel quite sick” the really very lovely anaesthetist had put something in my hand and I started to feel better almost instantly.  

They put an oxygen mask on me and my immediate thought  was that Dave would worry when he saw it!  I was really worried that they were going to start without him but then suddenly he was there, by my head.  For some reason the screen was really high up this time – literally touching my chin so I felt a bit claustrophobic but I think we just sort of chatted to distract me.

The section is such a strange feeling – you can feel the pushing and pulling but no pain.  The first thing anyone said about Amy was “Gosh what a lot of hair” and then suddenly, at 12.09pm on Wednesday 6th November 2013, she was out. They showed her to me and whisked her off. I had really wanted her to be delivered onto me the way Chloe had, to just be able to hold her for a few moments before they took her to weigh her etc but for some reason they wouldn’t agree to it this time.  They weighed her (8lb 14oz), wrapped her up and gave her to Dave.  He tried hard to make sure I could see her but it’s difficult when he can’t really get near!  After a while they took Dave and Amy off into the recovery room while they finished putting me back together. The whole operation took 1hr and 15 minutes and was apparently very straightforward.

While we were in recovery they continued to check my bp and helped Amy to latch on for her first feed.  As a result of my bp medication they had to monitor Amy’s bloody sugars every three hours (they were fine and after three consecutive “good” readings they continued to keep a close eye on her for a further 24 hours).

Not being able to feel your legs to move them or pull yourself up the bed to get comfortable is such an odd feeling and I’m eternally grateful that it’s only temporary!

We finally made our way out of recovery and up to the ward about 20 minutes before visiting was due to start – officially you aren’t meant to have visitors till 6.30pm when you’ve had a section so I was really worried they wouldn’t allow my parents to visit me but nobody said a word. I was clearly still pretty wiped out from the drugs I was pumped full of but I was so pleased to see Mum and Dad and introduce them to their granddaughter (and hear all the reasons why they had been so convinced we were having another boy!)

So that was that. She was here with minimal fuss. Our gorgeous little Amy Vee to complete our family.