The Arrival of Emily Rann

WARNING: THIS BIRTH STORY MAY CONTAIN SOME DETAILS ABOUT THE LABOUR PROCESS WHICH YOU JUST DON'T WANT TO KNOW.....!

I thought I'd know just what I was doing this time round. After all, I am an experienced mother, as the NCT class teacher said. Well, I don't know about that, but I do know that I was as nervous about labour this time round as last time, but in a different way. Last time, I was nervous about the unknown - this time, I was nervous because I knew what was ahead! Also, with Isabel (born in London) I had a mobile epidural which was great, whereas this time I knew that the hospital didn't do mobile epidurals, so that option was off the table.

As it turned out, I had no more clue about what was happening this time as I had the first time round. Luckily, my body knew a bit more about what was needed than my brain did. All day last Friday, I kept saying to Isabel, "your sister is sitting on my bladder, and it's quite painful". Mistake #1 - those were contractions. Very early ones, but contractions nonetheless. It was only after a few hours of this that I realised this bladder pressure was actually happening quite regularly - hmm, like contractions maybe? Stupid woman.

So, by Friday evening I started to have an inkling that something was going on. Husbandio's mum had arrived from Spain for a few days that afternoon, so we all had dinner together, and Isabel then went to bed. By about 10pm I was more and more convinced something was happening, but with Isabel I had a night of practice contractions before the real thing, so still didn't really believe that this was the real thing. So we watched Jonathan Ross and then went to bed - not much sleep though, maybe half an hour, and then I decided that some paracetamol and a warm bath might be in order. The bath felt great (and I thought I wouldn't smell bad if we did actually need to go to the hospital!). The contractions by this point were more obvious so we got the rented TENS pain relief machine out and hooked me up. Worked quite well, which was good since by 3am we decided that a visit to the hospital was probably in order. Good to have the mother-in-law in place since we didn't need to arrange for anyone to come round and sit with Isabel (who was gloriously asleep through all of this!).

We got to the hospital at 3.30am - nice quick drive since there wasn't much traffic on the road at that point! The midwife introduced herself and said her name was Rookie (turned out to be spelled Rukiya, not Rookie!), prompting me to say "goodness, I hope you're not!". I always was one for humour at the most inappropriate time. And I bet she'd never heard that one before. Perhaps she had, since it turned out she'd been working as a midwife at the same hospital since 1975, so she did know what she was doing!

She examined me at 4am, said I was about 6cm dilated, and that the baby would arrive in about an hour. Husbandio and I looked at each other doubtfully - with Isabel, I was also 6cm dilated when we arrived at the hospital, but it took her another 12 hours to make an appearance. Anyway, contractions came and went - strange ones though, one really strong, and then a couple of weak ones, so we were still sure there was ages to go. As the contractions got stronger I asked the midwife about the possibility of some gas and air, but she said that since I'd been feeling queasy it would probably make me sick. To which I replied "so what?", but no gas and air was forthcoming.

As 5am rolled around I started to feel like pushing might be a good plan, and hey presto, Emily arrived at 5.07am. Well, her head did, and the midwife then said "hey, feel the head, you can deliver her yourself now", to which I think I swore and said something like "just get the hell on with it", and with one more push the shoulders were out and so was the rest of her. They delivered her up onto my chest, and goodness me that's a slimy gift to be presented with. I'd have kissed her head, but it was all slathered with gunk, and not very kissable to my mind, so I settled for hugs at that stage. Husbandio cut the cord (well done Husbandio!), and then it turned out that my mum had just arrived, so she came in and we all admired the new arrival, and expressed our amazement at the speed of her arrival, and the lack of painkillers. I mean, paracetamol and a TENS machine, how ridiculous. Anyone would think I was auditioning to be an NCT poster child.

So that's about it as regards the birth - simpler than I anticipated would be the understatement of the decade. I didn't need any stitches (yay!) and opted for a six hour discharge from the hospital. Husbandio was home before Isabel was even out of bed so she awoke to the news of a baby sister, and they all came to collect me from the hospital. We were home by lunchtime - a nine hour turnaround time from start to finish. I wasn't racing though, honest. The speed of her arrival indicates another in a long list of reasons not to have third child - one contraction and it'd be out! Now there's a scary thought.....