This is a super late post,
(2 months actually) but better to be late than
So, yeah, I had my baby!
Let’s just say it was super dramatic, just like the time when I found out I was pregnant. A total shocker. At the time it was terrifying, but looking back, it was brilliant and I wouldn't change it.
So, I’d just turned 38 weeks and was due a regular hospital check-up. I sat down in the horrendously busy waiting area. The wait was so long I was glad I’d brought some biscuits to munch on.
It was kind of funny, actually. Every appointment I had in the hospital I would see other pregnant women I recognised from previous times. It was like we'd all gone on this journey together and those I thought would have well had their babies where sitting along with me, looking worse than I was at this stage.
While I thought it was their time, it was actually mine.
An hour and ten minutes later I was finally seen by a midwife. She told me my iron was low—again. Nothing new there. The week previous to that I was treated for a water infection. I'd been battling with them both for weeks, feeling like crap, so I was fed up at this stage.
I went back out into the waiting room and waited another half an hour to see the doctor. When I finally went in, she listened to the baby’s heartbeat and started measuring him.
Now here’s where it gets fun…
At 38 weeks pregnant my baby was measuring at 34-35 weeks. He was apparently small and the doctor wasn’t happy with that, so she made me stay to get a growth scan.
I don't know how, but I had a feeling this would happen. I had it in the back of my head because my bump was tiny. But I didn't actually think it would happen.
So they said everything was fine, but the baby’s abdominal region was on the smaller side of the spectrum, and as a precaution, she wanted to admit me into hospital that NIGHT to be induced.
Whoa, whoa, WHOA, lady. Hold up!
Even though I was full of worry for my baby, I couldn’t just stroll into hospital that night! I had nothing ready and the next day I was up in Dublin seeing the psychologist with Aiden. He was getting his assessment for his autism. His diagnosis. Something we’ve been waiting ages to get and that is so important for his life.
So, I felt like I was being torn in half. Get baby out or get my child his diagnosis.
Thankfully the doctor was sympathetic when I told her about Aiden. She told me to head over to the labour ward to be monitored for a while and that she would discuss it with me then.
Another hour later I was in hospital hooked up to monitors. At this stage, I was in absolute shock and completely exhausted.
The doctor came back and I expected her to say that she was going to keep me in, but she said she would give me a day since the baby seemed to be happy, but she wanted me back in the next day.
When I went home I had so much to do. I had to arrange childcare, double
triple check my hospital bags and get
everything else ready. I was stressed, tired and feeling all kinds of emotions
about being away from Aiden.
The next day we went up to Dublin. We went earlier so that we could go shopping for Aiden’s birthday first. Then we went out to dinner; our last meal just the three of us, which was lovely and took some of the darkness out of the day.
Then we went for the assessment.
It’s difficult saying Aiden’s assessment ‘went well’. As a mother, there’s nothing that is nice about someone confirming your child has autism. The assessment happened and I will probably never forget it for the rest of my life, even though I was fully prepared beforehand. It was cut and dry. Its now official. Your child is autistic. I know. But it will get Aiden the help he needs and that is all that matters.
Our journey is only just beginning.
Thursday arrived in the blink of an eye. I hadn’t slept a wink. We went back to the hospital and I was once again hooked up to monitors. Since the baby was still happy, the doctor said she would give me a sweep on my cervix to see if we could start labour naturally and send me home for the night. But I would be admitted on Friday and labour would be induced for definite.
Sweep= MAJOR OUCH.
Most uncomfortable, horrible thing I’ve ever had in my life. I felt really…weird afterwards. Totally violated. Haha. I hope to never get it again. Thanks.
When I got home I had a ‘show’, but nothing else happened. It was also a little annoying being sent home as I'm not the most patient person. The worry was killing me and I wanted baby out.
The waiting game commenced.
Friday night I was admitted to hospital. I had another sweep and had the gel to induce labour. I started getting pain straight away. They told me to go back to the ward and to rest, and in the morning, they would break my waters. I had a little cry. Tried to rest, but the pain wouldn’t quit.
I asked for paracetamol thinking it was just normal after a sweep and gel. That I wasn’t getting contractions. I’d prepared myself to be in labour for hours like I was with Aiden. I had prepared myself for something so long and drawn out that I didn’t realise it was contractions that I was getting.
An hour later, at 4 in the morning, the pain started to get really intense and frequent. I rang for the midwife and told her. By this stage I was in floods of tears, so she took me down to the labour ward to monitor me and told me to ring my partner to get him back in.
Turns out I was getting contractions. In fact, I was already seven centimetres dilated and continuing to dilate very quickly.
Apparently the doctor that night started the labour for all of his patients and I was the third to go.
Magic fingers. Blurgh!
I. Hate. SWEEPS.
I asked for an epidural, but I was too far gone at this stage, so was given just gas and air.
When the midwife started getting everything ready for the delivery I was thinking to myself, holy shit, this is happening. This is happening very quickly. A) my partner isn’t even here. B) I’m going to have to do this without pain relief.
WHAT THE HELL.
But I did do it.
My partner came just in time and I started pushing. At 6:16am on the 22nd of July, baby Ryan came into the world like a little dream. As soon as I felt his skin on mine and heard his little cry, I fell absolutely in love with him.
Best feeling ever.
Not only was he completely healthy and beautiful, he was 7 pounds 2 ounces. Not a small baby at all. They were wayyy off!
It sounds so weird, but it was a wonderful labour and birth. As I was holding him in my arms I decided that I really enjoyed it. Quick pregnancy. Quick birth. I couldn’t ask for better!
Now I have two beautiful boys in my life and I couldn’t be happier.
Life is perfect.