Your stories of labour

• Epilepsy and birth

Nicola S: Is that my waters?

I think I have wet myself. Definitely liquid has leaked. I know fore-waters are a gush and hind-waters are a trickle, and it is coming up to my due date; but how much of a trickle is a trickle? Hmm think I am going to keep quiet about this one, it’s a bit embarrassing…

Nicola S: Induction, pain relief and labour

Five days (after the wet incident) I have a routine appointment. At the end of which I say: “Oh, by the way, I don’t think they have, but maybe it could possibly be possible that potentially my waters might have broken…” And the next thing is that I am not allowed to leave the hospital as they are going to induce me! And I only have my handbag…
The next couple of days are a blur. Waiting for my waters to break (several midwives and a doctor tried to break them with a stick type thing without success, and then more waiting).
Then finally my contractions started. Whoever invented TENS machines should be nominated for sainthood. Then, at 4 am, my waters broke properly. This time there is no doubt about it! Then things start to get really painful. Gas and air makes me feel like I am having a pre-tonic clonic seizure aura, so I stop that pretty quickly.

The consultant takes a look and is concerned about Mr Wriggly’s heartbeat. I might have to have a caesarean after all! I decide to have an epidural straight away so that if I do have to have one I don’t have to have a general anaesthetic. But all seems to be OK and the hours pass in a haze of boiled sweets and chatting to the midwife and student nurse, with Gerald asleep in the corner (thanks, luv), oh yes and contraction after contraction which I can monitor on a little graph thing next to the bed…

Finally, 17 hours later I am told that I might have to have a caesarean after all as Mr Wriggly has wriggled into an unhelpful position. I’m not too impressed by this suggestion. Luckily the little man manages to right himself, but as his heartbeat is dropping, the decision is taken to suck him out with a ventouse. He comes out with two and a half pushes and no tearing. I wonder if next time I can put ‘ventouse’ on my birth plan??

But before I think about that I am completely overwhelmed. Finally I get to meet Mr Wriggly and I will never forget that moment. It’s scary as well because he doesn’t cry, and his AGPAR score is only a five, but all is well after five minutes and I have a red faced, pointy head son (Oliver) with thick black hair and screwed up eyes and he is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful…

(Note from the editor, ventouse is a suction cup that is sometimes placed on the baby’s head, to help deliver the baby).   

Jennifer B: Forty hours of labour

Our hospital had tips for a quick labour on the walls (all lies!!) My husband took one of the tips a little too literally - it suggested close eye contact with your partner by way of support. I opened my eyes from a big contraction to find him quite literally in my face. I took off from the bed with the biggest fright.

My labour was 40 hours long and ended with emergency caesarean! (Not sure I'm the best person to quote here!) Sounds horrific but wasn't actually that bad at the time. Gas and air is fabulous stuff and as for the anaesthetist who administered epidural-  love felt for him more than husband at that point

Ingrid M: A caesarean section

My labour ended up being 24 hours long.

It started three weeks early. We were staying with relatives for the holidays and were due to head home on the day my contractions started.

My contractions started around 4am. We had a bit of distraction as we had to ring the local maternity unit to find out if I could go there. Thankfully they said yes!

I used a Tens machine until the pain got too much and then I had some diamorphine to let me rest a little as I didn’t want to get so tired that I’d have a seizure.

However after a long labour, I ended up having a c-section as my baby wasn’t in the correct position.

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