My Birth Story

Yesterday was my due date but those eagle eyed readers/ followers will notice that my Instagram feed is already full of baby pictures. Yes, little baby Flinders made his appearance on the 22nd January, making him six weeks early and classed as premature.

The whole of my pregnancy I was convinced of two things, 1. He would be late and 2. He would be a big baby. I hadn’t even entertained the idea of having a premature baby, I was 8lb 4oz when I was born and Tom was 7lb 5oz, so neither of us were dainty babies so having one was a shock to the system.

Here is my (very honest) birth story:

On January 20th my alarm went off at 06.50am as it does every weekday morning. I usually jump straight out of bed to avoid falling back to sleep, however this morning I stayed in bed for 5 minutes looking at my phone. At 06.55am I felt a sudden urgency to get up and go to the toilet, and as I made my way up I was leaking uncontrollably. At first incontinence came to mind, GREAT I thought, it had been mentioned in pregnancy emails and books more than once so immediately that is what my mind went to. However, it didn’t stop. Anxiety and panic hit so I woke Tom up. Luckily my mum had nagged me to get a hospital bag ready, a suggestion I almost dismissed as all the books said 35 weeks… HA!

We made our way to the hospital, towel positioned under arse, trying to remain relatively calm. Once we arrived I was hooked up to a monitor and it was confirmed that my waters had in fact gone. The fun was just getting started. Due to the fact he was only 33 + 6 weeks he was at risk of having underdeveloped lungs, the remedy for which was the most painful injection I have and probably will ever experience, and I had to have two. The steroid injections. I genuinely thought the worst part was going to be the fact it had to go in my arse cheek, turns out the liquid they push through is one billion times worse, genuinely felt like 100 bees were stinging me at once, and that sting lasts around 30 minutes. And as it was a day of firsts of course I was going to be hooked up to a drip as well.

I was moved to a delivery suite where I would be monitored for the day and given antibiotics to prevent infection. The aim was to keep him in there for a week and I was naively optimistic.

That evening they moved me to the ward. This was my first hospital stay so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Well it was worse that I had imagined. There was a woman in the bed next to mine whose snore was so loud the bed vibrated, she was also a noisy eater and had horrendous manners (burping all day long). SO. MUCH. RAGE. I got approximately 1 hour sleep between 5am and 6am before being woken to have my observations done.

I spent the whole of the next day in the ward, having mild contractions or braxton hicks, not sure but they came and went, so my release was pending… however another night in was needed and my charming room mate was still there.

I cheekily asked to be moved into a different ward, to be fair it was more for her safety than my gratification. Not only did they let me move but they gave me a private room, yes! I was going to get some sleep… Ha!

That evening the pain intensified, coming thick and fast. The midwives wanted to avoid doing an examination as it could spur on active labour but with contractions now 5 minutes apart they had no choice. These examinations are hands down the worst part of labour by far. It feels like they are digging for gold or that you are a cow and they are elbow deep in your lady parts. Genuinely made me crawl up bed, that is until they said ‘your baby has dark hair’… sorry what?!

Shit got really real.

Off I went back into a delivery suite, this time knowing I would be leaving with a baby. For me active labour progressed really quickly, from 4cm to 9cm in 20 minutes, the whole thing lasting an hour and a half. Clearly he didn’t want to stay in any longer than he had to.

As for pain relief, they steered me away from morphine and an epidural due to the fact he was early and they wanted him to be as awake as possible when he came out. I tried gas and air but to be honest it set of a panic reflex, I felt as if I couldn’t breath and it wasn’t that great so I sacked it off.

At 8.10am little Roo came into the world a healthy 5lb 6oz and screaming which was great, but also grunting (not so great). After a brief moment cuddling he was whisked off to NICU.

I won’t go into his week long NICU stay but that is all it was, a week and then my beautiful diddy boy got to come home where he is thriving and turning into a right chunk.

This is the little porker now…

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