At nearly 42, I think a lot of people thought I was mad having another baby. With a 10 and 11 year old, I thought I was “done” until I hit 40 and knew that I’d like to try for one more. This is his birth story…
On Thursday May 19th 2011, I had my last sizing scan to ensure our little man was not going to be too big due to the gestational diabetes I had. It turned out he measured at 35 weeks and 6 days instead of 36 weeks and 5 days, and was around 6lb8oz with an estimated arrival weight of 8lb. As I’d only bought a few 0000 suits for him in anticipation of a bigger baby, I went into town and put a heap more smaller clothes on lay by, did a few things I’d been putting off, and went for a walk with Mum. Nothing much had been happening, so when I woke up to go to the toilet at around 1a.m., I had a little leak (not unusual with someone’s head on my bladder!) and didn’t think a lot of it until I woke with a start a 1.47a.m and jumped out of bed (literally) as my waters broke 3 weeks and 1 day early. I woke hubby and jumped in the shower feeling very weird and shaky with a fast heart rate. I stripped the bed and put a load of washing on (as you do when about to have a baby) and rang the hospital where they said to come straight in due to being only just 36 weeks and 6 days. I then rang Mum – waking – and I think surprising her. As I still had over 3 weeks to go I hadn’t packed my bag but was glad I’d laid most things out and had recently “instructed” hubby on what to grab, and had a bit of a list ready. Mum arrived not long later and we were off with still no contractions.
Upon arrival, we were taken to a birthing suite and put on a monitor to keep an eye on things, and I was also given a NASTY cannula with antibiotics in case I had tested positive for Group B Strep (GBS) which I had only been tested for the day before, meaning they had no results back as yet. Funny to think I had never been in hospital before (apart from the birth of my first two children) and was thinking I was lucky to have never had to have a cannula before – if only I knew then what was to come! The monitor was OK, and they kept letting me up to wander and try and get things going, also using a “wireless” monitor for a time. I tried to relax and hoped to “get things started” so resorted to reading my favourite author Michael Robotham’s latest thriller.
Late on Friday, the Doctors were discussing me outside my room when I told the midwife I wanted to wait until the next day to be induced and to see if things happened naturally. They were happy with that, and I got transferred to post natal for the night with a girl with a new baby (whose cries I hoped would help get my labour started before induction the next morning). I sent hubby home to sleep (luckily) as I felt things were not going to happen any time soon. After being monitored all night, I got up and let myself out early Saturday morning to go for a brisk walk around the hospital in the cool foggy air – hoping to get a “jump-start” on labour before the induction in a few hours. Just after 8a.m, I got transferred back to a birthing suite where hubby met me and they put me on a monitor (again) and told me what would happen. Just after 9a.m., the Dr came in, explained the syntocinon drip (to induce me) and that he would return for an internal which I was NOT looking forward to, especially as I had avoided them with both my previous babies. When they began the drip, I was making myself feel sick with nerves at the thought of an induction – and possibly a hard-and-fast labour. My last two labours had been quick, and I was beginning to remember what I was in for and felt quite scared. Not long later, the Dr – a locum from Melbourne- came back to do the internal. While chatting to my husband about the weather and whether he would get home to Melbourne due to the fog, I watched his face change and he quickly got the team to turn off the drip as he’d discovered that the cord had prolapsed, resulting in a potentially fatal situation should I have even one contraction. As he began to explain to me what that meant, I said “so an emergency caesarean then?” and he said “Yes, I’m afraid so – and right now!” and I was actually relieved. My whole pregnancy I had said I felt I would go early, that I would possibly need a caesar, and even (to hubby) that “my bits” would probably “fall out”!) How right I was, and within seconds a team were waiting to whisk me to theatre.
Within half an hour of the internal, I had an epidural and was ready for our baby’s imminent arrival. While I was very shaky, I was also very calm and resigned (and more than a little relieved to be missing a potentially hard and fast labour). The team of theatre staff were BRILLIANT – the right mix of calm and efficient – I could tell this was a life threatening situation (to my baby) as they were were hurried and did not waste a minute, but at the same time they chatted and made me feel calm, keeping me in the loop the whole time and reassuring me – even joking with me. At times, the Dr, anesthetist and hubby sounded like a well rehearsed comedy routine, which was fine with me as it helped pass the time, and kept my mind off what was happening with my spine (the epidural) and then all the “action” later.
It was a LOT surreal and with the drape over me, and looked a little like a weird shadow puppet performance with all the pulling and tugging on the other side of the drape, and the anaesthetist keeping me busy distracting me, and me giving him ratings out of 10 for his performance! (At one stage he got a 2/10 as he hit me in the nose with a tube and the Betadine he used to wash my back was freezing), and the “light” mood really helped me to forget what was going on on the other side of the drape! At 10.06a.m, my beautiful, tiny, baby boy was born, taken away for checks and then returned briefly to me before being rushed into a humidicrib in the nursery due to breathing difficulties and not good colour. He scored a 9 and 10 on the APGAR, but they had some concerns, so while I went to recovery, hubby and the team checked Carter out and made sure he was OK to be re-united with me about an hour later.
I was told what a VERY close call it had been, and now , 2 years later, am very happy that things went as well as they did, and we still don’t know what we ever did without CJ in our lives
Posted by Kymichelle, 21st July 2013