We're having a big discussion about my bleeding, my fluctating contractions and whether or not to induce me. My husband looks like a zombie and is having trouble keeping up. Thankfully we have family, only 40 minutes drive away. We did have a battle plan for the end of June but its been brought forward 4 weeks. When they arrive I'm in a clinical area, with monitors and all of that going on. I can't get up - I'm not allowed, so every now and then I call for the commode and my in-laws have to stand behind a curtain or leave the room. Its all a bit surreal. I would never have thought I'd be having a conversation with my father in law, interdispersed with panting, slight groaning and football trivia. My husband goes home to sleep and will be back in the afternoon. We're still not sure if I'm in or out of labour. I get periods of really strong contractions and then it stops. They decide to give me some chemicals to speed up the labour but it fails miserably. I really do have troube with this whole delivery thing. The in-laws leave as hubby returns. They very kindly look after son number one whilst we wait. I'm still bleeding too. I won't go in to detail as its really not pleasant. Basically my placenta is rupturing gradually which can be very dangerous for me and baby number 2. In the early hours I lose a "Blob" the size of a grapefruit. The aneathsetist is called and we're going down the section route. Thankfully this time around, I've had some sleep, I know what is going to happen and I feel much more in control. Back on with the blue pyjamas and off we pop on the trolley.
We have another gorgeous pink baby boy arrive, 3 weeks early, but a good weight and completely healthy. We are relieved. Sadly, the woman stitching me up this time is quite forceful and my epidural is wearing off and I can feel my organs being shoved in a bit. I sick up in cardboard egg box sick tray and ask her to knock me out. She kindly staples me back together and I drift off for a bit.
I am overwhelmed with relief and gratitude that everything is ok. I demand bottles of milk for feeding - the breast feeding Nazi squad don't stand a chance with me this time, and I am confident in handling my new born. I whistfully reflect that it would have been so nice to be like this the first time around. After 2 days this time I actually want to go home. I've had no periods of unreality, feelings of confusion or desire to do anything dangerous. Thank God. I'm given the pain relief medication as per last time, but this time I get to bring home my own sterile stapel remover. For a moment I think that I myself, am going to have to remove my staples from my groin. Nothing would suprise me you know.
I find myself, suprisingly, at a very large and well know supermarket, having a large fried breakfast with my mother-in-law with my 5 day old baby all snuggled up in the plastic seat of a trolley. I am a world away from my first foray into child birth. We both smile - this is how it should be. I feel blesssed that I have actually been able to enjoy the process - well not the cut and shut part or the hideous bleeding, but the lack of psychosis and definite prescence of Joy!!! Just maybe, it'll keep improving and I'll finally feel ok.