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Announcement!!
It's 12:42am and we've just arrived back from Cumbria. Yup. That short, over-night trip we took up there 2 weeks ago ended just a few minutes ago and I couldn't resist doing a quick blog entry before I drop off to sleep.
I won't go into too much detail right now - because I'm knackered - but I'd like to announce the birth of Jake William Nicholas on March 29 at 4:08am. He chose to enter this world in Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria - exactly where I was born. Bless him!
He had some fluid on his lungs and has spent the first 11 days of his life in the Special Care Baby Unit. I stayed there with him, breastfeeding him and cuddling him constantly. He is now fit and well and at home with us. Yipee!
Anyway, I'm off to bed - for a disturbed sleep, I'm sure. But I'll give you more detail tomorrow, as well as a whole bunch of piccies!
Congrats to Minkleberry on the birth of Ezra. He looks adorable. I'll read more about him in the morning. Amazingly, with Jake arriving 4 weeks early, I think I beat you to it!
Night-night.
Birth Story - Part 1
As you'll know, we almost didn't get away as planned on Saturday March 27th because our car broke down. We called out the Repair Guy who informed us that we simply had a leaky valve. Having fixed that, we headed out on our way up to Cumbria, some 330 miles North of where we live, to see my Mum. With hindsight, we should have taken that as a sign of things to come and we should have just stayed home. But we didn't.
The journey was indeed a long one. We hit a bit of traffic but made it there in reasonable time. We had made plans to dine with my Mum and, after checking in to our hotel and picking up my mother, we headed out to the local pub on Walney Island for a steak dinner. The meal was lovely (I love a good bloody steak!) but I felt exhausted. The table was small and I felt very cramped and unsettled.
After dinner, we dropped my Mum off at my Nanna's house again and headed back to the hotel, where I promptly got in to bed and fell asleep. My sleep was a disturbed one though. The bed was uncomfortable and new to me and I didn't sleep at all well. But then, neither did Stephen or Ruth, who had joined us for the trip.
At about 7am, I got up and went for a pee (as you do). I did my thing, got up and it felt like I pee'd a bit more. With an empty bladder, I was a bit stumped as to why it felt like I was peeing some more. I sat back down on the toilet and more came. My mind was racing. Could my waters have broken? Everytime I moved, a bit more fluid came out.
I calmly called out to Stephen to join me in the bathroom and he replied light-heartedly, "but I'm comfortable!" Hmmm... I guess I called a bit too calmly!
Stephen came in and I told him my diagnosis. He suggested that we call my Mum and have her point us in the direction of the nearest hospital to have things checked out. My poor Mum was in the middle of frying up some bacon when we called, but she quickly dropped everything and, I'm sure, couldn't believe her luck at being in England for the birth of her first grandchild!
Upon arriving at the hospital, we were seen by a midwife named Jennifer, who was the most friendly and helpful midwife I've ever come across. She looked at my pregnancy notes (I'd been smart enough to carry those with me), asked me a few questions and hooked me up to a fetal monitor around my midsection. Amazingly, I'd been having contractions and I didn't even know it. And, upon further examination, Jennifer inform us that I was 3 cms dilated.
"You won't be making it back home to Essex today," Jennifer said. "You're having a baby."
Birth Story - Part 2
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Here? Today? But that can't be! The baby isn't due for another 4 weeks. Although we did bring the pregnancy notes, we didn't bring the bags that I'd packed for our hospital stay. I had no baby clothes with me, no clothes for me, no "birth supplies", like maternity towels, nursing bras, old knickers, big t-shirts, nappies, etc... Nothing!
I was admitted to the hospital at around 10am and so started my labour. I was amazed that I'd made it to 3 cms without even knowing it and it gave me slight hope that the rest of my labour wouldn't be that bad. Realistically, I'd been prepared for pain, but the lack of it so far made me feel good. I was really excited by the thought of having Jake, even if he was going to arrive 4 weeks early.
No one at the hospital seemed overly concerned about his prematurity. They showed us the Special Care Baby Unit (SCBU - they pronounced it skeboo) anyway though, just in case the baby needed any extra help after he was born.
After being admitted to the hospital, Stephen and I went outside and made a phonecall home to Hannah and Sarah to let them know that we wouldn't be home later that day as planned. Understandably, they were very disappointed that they wouldn't be nearby when their little brother entered the world, but there was, of course, very little we could do about it.
It was just so amazing that we could go away from home for one night and that would be the night that this baby decided to make an appearance. Not only that but I was born in Barrow; I think that Jake wanted to be born there too!
Anyway, the hospital gave me lunch - roast beef and Yorkshire pudding - and I soon started to feel the contractions. They were very mild at first, just a slight tightening of my stomach. It felt like a menstrual cramp really.
By mid-afternoon, the contractions were harder. They made me suck in my breath a bit and lean over. Jennifer, the midwife, had told me earlier that my cervix was 3 cms dilated and that it was a bit posterior, meaning that it was facing slightly towards my back. To combat this, I had to lean over, trying to coax the baby to push on my cervix at a different angle. I ate my lunch while sat on a birthing ball, rolling my hips, and I have to say that the birthing ball was really nice. You rock your hips around in a circle and it really is quite soothing. Not only does it feel good but it also, apparently, helps to bring the baby down and finally out.
My memory of the time involved is a bit muddy, but I think it was around suppertime that I got in the birthing pool, with the understanding that I'd spend my labour in the pool to ease the discomfort but that I'd give birth outside the pool because of Jake's prematurity. I enjoyed my time in the pool and I really think that it helped with the pain. It was big enough for me to stay hunched forward and it was deep enough that I didn't feel too exposed. I had chosen to be completely naked in the pool as I felt that even minimal clothing, like a bra or something, would only feel cumbersome.
My only complaint about the pool was that it was too hot. As I wasn't giving birth in the pool, it didn't need to be kept at a high temperature but, no matter how cool the water got, I still felt stifled. With every contractions, I tried to keep my breathing regular, as I'd been taught but I felt like the water air around the pool was too thick for me breathe in. The midwife brought in a fan and pointed it directly at me and that helped a lot.
The contractions were quite painful at this point but I do have to stress that I found it all very manageable. My stomach would tighten, I would lean forward, Stephen would take my hand and I would breathe through it. When it was over, I was able to carry on a lively conversation with Deborah, the midwife, and Stephen about all kinds of things, just to pass the time.
By mid-evening, I asked about trying the gas and air. The contractions were harder to bear by then and I wondered if it would help. I was finding leaning forward in the pool was making my legs ache, but I knew that I had to do it to encourage the baby to push my cervix in the right direction. I was hoping that the gas and air would help with all my aches and pains! But I was still happy and feeling like I was coping well.
Concerning the gas and air, I have to say that it didn't really help with any of my discomforts. I kept using it throughout the rest of my labour though, as I found it a welcome distraction when a contraction came along. It was something to hold and something to concentrate on. And the one thing that I hadn't realized or fully appreciated about gas and air is how dry it makes your mouth. Your throat really suffers the following day!
In the late evening, I got out of the pool and onto the bed. My contractions were very hard by then and I was starting to feel like I wasn't coping quite as well. I was feeling very tired and teary and I would have done just about anything to just sleep for a few minutes but, with my contractions quite close together, there really was no rest for me.
The third midwife came in for her shift and took over. Her name was Marie and she was a bit snooty. Go figure, it's just my luck that the midwife who actually delivers my baby is a grumpy one. Perhaps 'grumpy' is the wrong word though; she was more like a know-it-all. She took charge of my labour and pushed me hard. She egged me on and urged me to be strong. She told me that I was doing well and handling it all wonderfully. Feeling as tired as I did, I wasn't at all convinced that she was telling the truth.
As I got more and more tired, I got frustrated. I got upset and I cried. By the early hours of Monday morning, I was telling Marie that I was having a hard time and that I wanted an epideral. I told her I needed to sleep and that my body was tired and aching. Looking back, I can admit that I was whining and moaning and that I was really feeling sorry for myself but, knowing what labour is like, I don't think we women can be blamed. First labours so often are very long and the exhaustion was overpowering.
But this hospital boasts a 3% epideral rate, Marie told us, so she showed a great reluctance in giving me the epideral I was asking for. Again, looking back, I was close to delivery and, although tired, I was handling things. Maybe Marie could see that I was weepy but she could tell that I would get through things without it. Instead, she suggested a shot of Pethidine, which I had originally said that I would not have as it can cross the placenta. In the state that I was in, in great need of a bit of rest, I agreed to the Pethidine. All that did, of course, was allow me to fall asleep for the minute or so between contractions.
And then, around 2am, I was 10 cms dilated. Let the pushing begin...
Birth Story - Part 3
And I pushed for an amazing 2 hours and 8 minutes! I'm told that the average time for a first-time Mum is about an hour. Me and my boy just had to be difficult, didn't we? I blame my exhausted, weepy body. I pushed with all my might and the damn midwife just kept saying:
"You're nearly there! Push!"
I am pushing!! I'm pushing as hard as I can! I grunted. I groaned. I screamed with the intensity of the push. The pain at this point was quite strong so I'm sure that the vocal release eased not only the effort of pushing but also the discomfort of the contraction. I put all my might into every push, but I felt like my body couldn't do it anymore. I had used up all my energy during the first stage of labour.
Eventually though, at 4:08am, weighing 5lbs 13, Jake William Nicholas emerged. And let me tell you, it really does burn as that head crowns! I was encouraged to put my hand down and feel the top of his head - which freaked me out a bit - then the next contraction came and his head came popping out. The midwife got me to puff in very small breaths to try to control the speed of his head emerging so that I wouldn't tear and I'm pleased to say that her efforts were well received. Not a tear, not a cut!!
That burning sensation continued through the next contraction as well as his shoulders emerged. I can now understand why those women on those birthing shows scream things like: Get it out! I didn't scream that out, mind you, because I always though it sounded cruel. Instead, I huffed and puffed and stared wide-eyed in the direction of my groin and waited, knowing that the discomfort was only seconds away from over.
And it was. The shoulders slipped out with the next contraction and my son was born. He was placed carefully on my tummy and I lay there taking it all in. He was beautiful! He cried immediately and seemed to reach out to me. I held him close to me and kissed his forehead. Stephen was there, beside me, looking shell-shocked. He'd had a difficult time throughout the labour, feeling tired and frustrated at not being able to ease my discomfort, and now his eyes were filled with love for me and his new son. He leaned over and gave his son a kiss. It's a moment I never want to forget.
I'm a Mum!
Birth Story - Part 4
Within a minute or so of Jake's birth, we noticed that he was grunting when he breathed. It sounded like he was having to work hard at getting his breaths in. Marie, the midwife, didn't seem overly concerned, but still called in a doctor to check Jake over. The doctor concluded that they'd take Jake to SCBU (Special Care Baby Unit) to make sure he was OK.
We were told that he was indeed having troubles breathing. This was probably due to his prematurity, but he had also injested some fluid on the way out. With damp lungs, Jake couldn't inflate his own lungs properly.
For the first two days, Jake needed to be on nasal CPAP, which means that he's got tubes in his noses that force oxygen into his lungs so that he doesn't tire himself out trying to do it himself. He exhales on his own and is simply helped with his inhaling. After those first two days, he used the CPAP only intermittently as they weaned him off of it. He spent one day under the phototherapy lamp to combat his jaundice and was fed through a nasal tube (or one in his mouth when he was on the CPAP) for the first few days. The official reason for needing the CPAP was listed as "needed nasal CPAP for surfactant deficiency".
Jake became stronger and stronger every day. He opened his eyes when I came near his incubator and cried when his nappy was changed. He pulled my hair and I swear we smiled at me. I started to breastfeed Jake as soon as I could and, by his 8th day of life, his cot was in my room with me while they monitored his breastfeeds, making sure that he was feeding well. When that was established, Jake and I were discharged and heading home.
Birth Story - Part 5
Not having had any stitches or a c-section, I have to say that my physical recovery was immediate. The very next day, I was up and about, going to see Jake, expressing milk for him and going for my daily postnatal checks. I felt much slimmer and lighter and my pelvis no longer ached. I slept comfortably too! I'd forgotten what that was like.
The day after that, my pelvis started to ache again. It's like when you do lots of exercise. You're OK immediately afterwards but just give a day or two - you'll ache! Having pushed a baby through that pelvis of mine, it started complaining. But that didn't last longer and I was quickly as good as new.
Looking back on the labour and the birth, I feel proud of getting through it. I am convinced that my biggest problem in the whole thing was my tiredness. I think I would have handling the whole much better if I'd been less tired. But how does one ensure that they'll be less tired after a 17 and a half hour labour?! Stephen was my rock throughout it all and he still is. I couldn't have done it without him.
Oh and one other thing, to any expectant Mums (JoJo) delivering the placenta is the weirdest feeling! Not at all painful, of course, but I certainly remember thinking "whoa! That felt I delivered a balloon full of water!" Which, I suppose it is. But I just thought I'd mention that, seeing as I've been fairly open and honest about other disgusting things. Delivering the placenta felt so odd that it made me laugh.
Breastfeeding frustrations
Well, I guess that's the end of my 'Birth Story' series. I feel like I have loads more to say but I think it'll just come in drips and drabs now when a thought occurs to me. The story format was good, I thought, but I've realized that I've left out a few choice anecdotes so I'll have to write about them seperately.
Since arriving home with Jake, I've really started feeling like a Mum. As I've been breastfeeding, I've felt like Jake is permamently attached to me. If I'm not feeding him, I'm burping him. If I'm not burping him, I'm cuddling him. And, if all else fails, I'm changing nappies! I've felt like I don't have 2 minutes to myself so that I can take a shower!
Stephen's been wonderful, getting up in the night to change nappies and holding Jake while I rush into the bathroom to have a shower before I'm needed again for the next feed. This is a whole new feeling for me, where I'm trying to fit the simplest thing into my very tight schedule of feeds. Jake has so far been a demanding baby as far as feeds go. Some days, he's wanted feeding every 2 hours. While in the hospital, I spoke to the nurses on the Special Baby Care Unit about it. They said that some babies were more demanding with their feeds than others, but that I should try, for my own sake, to drag out the feeds to every 3 hours.
Now, that advice is all fine and dandy if the baby is cooperative but, in the middle of the night, you don't want to be placating a screaming baby.
Stephen and I discussed this matter with the visiting midwife and she suggested that we give Jake one bottle of formula right before we go to bed at night and continue offering the breast the rest of the time. Formula, we're told, takes longer to digest so Jake will probably sleep for about 4 hours, giving us a bit of much needed rest.
We did as was suggested but, when Jake woke later in the night, he wouldn't take the breast. He fussed and fought me. So we made up a bottle for him and I expressed some milk. In the morning, Jake breastfed again, so I felt good about that, hoping that we were getting back on track.
Now, 2 days later, having tried to stick to giving him a bottle only once a day, Jake will hardly take the breast at all and I'm upset about it. I feel like he's figured out that the bottle is easier and he doesn't want to work for it. Admittedly, I was exhausted and I was having a hard time being the only one who could wake up and feed him, but now I feel like I've lost something that he and I shared. I don't want to give up breastfeeding yet. Maybe we should never have introduced the bottle at all.
Anyway, I've been expressing milk to give him in a bottle, as I'm still convinced that the best thing for him comes from me, whether he works for it or not.
Ew!
Jake just pee'd on my arm! It's like a fountain that never ends. How can such a tiny baby have such a big bladder?
Bath time!
For the first time today, I gave my little Jake a bath and he seemed to love it. He looked around with big wide eyes and didn't once scream. They bathed him while we were in the hospital but it was amazing to be doing it myself.
Doesn't he look darling?!!
Milk everywhere!
To steal a line from JoJo, no one ever told me that I'd wake up with huge wet patches on my pyjamas and that I had the ability to squirt Jake in the eye before he even had a chance to latch on. No one told me that, while Jake was getting comfy at the breast, I couldn't stop the flow. Don't these damn things have on/off switches?!! My poor baby's drowning in my breast milk!!
Now there's an image you don't get every day, huh? Sorry.
Anyway, the breastfeeding has gotten a bit better since I last wrote about it. I've noticed that he's a lot more likely to take the breast if he's not agitated and not too hungry. If he's woken up hungry and he's crying, I have little chance of getting him to take the breast. But we are back to a more frequent breastfeed and that makes me very happy.
Baby Boy Jake has just woken up. Gotta go!
