There are lots of clichés about things happening for a reason, what’s for you won’t pass you by, what’s meant to be is meant to be and your destiny already being mapped out. Fine, but it doesn’t mean it’s less of a shock when things happen and you realise everything you thought you had planned down to the very last detail goes up the spout.
So, I went for my scan on Tuesday 4th August and hoped the wheat grass had done its job, but there were still signs of mild twin to twin transfusion, it hadn’t got any worse but it hadn’t improved and the doc wanted to admit me and discussed consulting the baby doctors and starting steroids just in case. The steroids are to strengthen the babies’ lungs should they be delivered pre term. I negotiated coming home provided I came in again on Friday for another scan because I knew that once they had me in they weren’t going to let me go until it was all over; the idea of spending the next 3 or 4 weeks filled me with dread. Then I popped off down the corridor to have my blood pressure checked, oops (I think my reaction might have been a little more concerned than oops but what can I say). My blood pressure was through the roof so I was admitted anyway and I cried because I knew I was going to be kept in to try to get another 2 to 3 weeks if not 4 out of my pregnancy and the thought of being away from Blaine and my home for that long devastated me, plus raging hormones weren’t helping me keep things in perspective. Poor Blaine had done a 12 hour night shift, got in at 6am,stayed up to take me to the hospital for 11.30 and didn’t get home until after 2pm but, he didn’t complain once because he wanted to see us safe and settled in the best place possible. He didn’t want me to come home because he was worried that if anything happened or the twin to twin transfusion got any worse and the babies had to be delivered early it could be disastrous waiting for an ambulance or trying to make the 20 mile journey in rush hour traffic. When did he become do practical and clear in his thoughts? It looked as though our plans to go to Wales for a few days were off the cards.
Blaine came in to see me the following day around tea time and I mentioned having had trapped wind all day, very unlady like I know but if I could just do a big trump I would feel ok. It didn’t put me off my tea though and as I troughed my way through fish pie I said I might have to call a nurse to see if I could get something for it. We weren’t allowed to go to the parenting class at 7.00pm that I had booked us in for at the General because my blood pressure had gone back up and was far too high to be going anywhere even if it was only for 3 hours. Blaine left about 7.15pm just as I called a nurse to come and see to me. Then my dad’s wife phoned to see how I was getting on, ‘fine thanks’ I said as I crouched on my bed on all fours waiting for the cramp to subside. When the nurse arrived I was taken upstairs to wait for a doctor to come and see me. I didn’t know what part of the hospital upstairs was at the time nor did I know what was happening at first, why would I, I was only 25 weeks and 6 days pregnant. The doctor came and checked me over then told me I was 3cm dilated and yes I was in labour. How could this be, I just needed a trump? I wasn’t to know I was in labour; I wasn’t that far in to my book, it hadn’t mentioned the signs of labour yet. I was put on a drip with medication to stop the contractions and a dose of steroids for the babies that needed 24 hours to work and then I would need another dose. I still wasn’t worried because the medication was going to stop the labour but perhaps Blaine should be called, just to let him know I needed him, you know a bit of support until it all settled down. He was by my side at 9.15 pm within half an hour of the midwife leaving me to phone him. I think he was trying to break the sound barrier in a Passat and that’s when it all kicked off. All I said was I needed to pooh and within seconds the room was filled with a 12 strong medical team; I was 9cm dilated and ready to go. I apologised to Blaine that he would have to ring work and wouldn’t be able to do the overtime he was booked in for on Thursday night and that Wales was going to have to wait a bit longer. I still didn’t feel anxious or scared but this wasn’t in the plan. When the baby doctor said I was going to give birth to them naturally I mentioned that it wasn’t the plan. Delivering them today wasn’t the plan and please don’t leave it much longer to give me drugs, it really hurt. I was told only to use the gas and air when I had a contraction and breathe normally in between but I had to say there wasn’t any in betweens and I needed it!
The epidural was the strangest sensation I have ever experienced in my life. The anaesthetic in my back to enable the epidural to be given hurt more than the labour pains and I told them so. I told them that I didn’t like them anymore and I wasn’t their friend. My leg fell off the table at one point and I couldn’t do a thing about it. It was funny watching them have to catch it and place it back on the table. It was weird when they had to lift my legs up to put them in the stirrups because it felt as though they were still on the table and the legs, although I recognised them as mine, looked like mannequin dummy legs. I could hear the music in the theatre and I tried very hard to have Little Blaine out by the end of the Kings of Leon but it was very difficult and the song finished before I could get more air in my lungs to push. I’m not being funny but it is hard pushing a baby out when you can’t feel anything from the chest down, especially when you’re a novice and haven’t had to do any sort of pushing before. Surreal is a good word for describing my experience. All of the medical team introduced themselves as they started doing their individual jobs and I was upset later when I could only remember 3 names out of the 12! It’s amazing what you think of when your mind is affected by drugs.
I gave birth to Little Blaine naturally (not in the plan) at 1.25 am 2lb 5oz and to the girls by caesarean (the original plan) Molly at 1.42 am, 1lb 3oz and Poppy at1.43 am 1lb 13oz on 6th August 2009 (not in the plan). I didn’t even know that the girls had been born until I was told that I was going to be stitched up and it would only take about an hour. I saw Little Blaine briefly before he was hiked off in a plastic food bag to NNU. The plastic bags are to keep the babies warm on their journey up to Neo Natal but I didn’t get to see the girls. Blaine saw them all soon after when they were wired and drugged up and in their incubators. He brought photographs of them to me and then went home for some sleep about 6.30 am. I couldn’t go up until the feeling had come back to my legs and someone had come to give me a wash. It took 12 hours from being taken up to the delivery ward to finding myself back in my cubicle on the maternity ward. Then I was taken to a room of my own so that I could rest properly and not get upset by the sound of other mother’s babies crying. I was finally taken up to see my babies in a wheelchair when Blaine returned in the afternoon and I’d had some sleep and my bag of wee had been made portable, nice I know but this is the reality, child birth isn’t pretty or dignified in any way, shape or form. When I saw my babies guess what I did? Yep, I cried but only a little, the real tears would come later when the hormones really kicked in and I started to remember and re live the experience again and again as people wanted to know all the wonderful and all the gory details!