My birth story starts at my routine 36-week midwife appointment, a little over a week before my daughter entered the world. It has ups, downs, overnight hospital stays with no baby, false starts, and a LOT of driving for my partner thrown in for good measure.
My daughter's birth is completely different to what I’d planned and prepped for in all the months of my pregnancy leading up to it, but it's our story - they say birth is a transformative experience, and it truly was.
The 36-week appointment
On a nice warm Tuesday morning, at the start of my work day, I set my Slack status as ‘medical appointment - back no later than 10.15am’. Little did I know, haha. It was my last week of work before mat leave; a maternity leave I'd brought forward by a week purely because I'd woken up after the Easter Bank Holiday with the gut instinct to do so. I'm SO glad I did.
Anyway, I left the house for the short amble to the GPs surgery with nothing more than my phone, keys, bankcard, and maternity notes. My partner was on an office day in London, so I was attending the appointment on my own, something I was more than happy to do, as while we had been under consultant-led care for most of the third trimester, this was just a routine appointment. I'd had a pretty easy ride for the first two trimesters of pregnancy (apart from exhaustion), and even the third trimester’s issues had felt pretty manageable with a few amendments to my life.
At the appointment, a few of my tests threw up some light concerns for the midwife. Nothing too dramatic, but she was like “better we take the safe than sorry approach; I'll ring up the maternity day unit (MDU) and let them know to expect you for a few more tests”. I hopped in a cab from the GP surgery with a little trepidation, but not toooooo worried, and off I went to the hospital. The cabbie was lovely, and we spoke about parenthood and life in both London and Sussex along the way.
Hospital stay(s) before baby’s arrival
As I got to the MDU, and was hooked up to various monitors for baby’s health, and had bloods, urine, and blood pressure taken for mine, I did start to get a little more concerned, and as such, my partner made his way to the hospital - his commute that Tuesday was literally four times the amount of time he'd actually spent in the office, haha. During this time on my own, the midwives and doctors advised that I'd be staying for the next 24 hours for monitoring due to the results my body was giving them, which of course, made me anxious (for me and baby, but also because it meant I wasn't packing my own overnight bag!!). I will say though, I bagged a decent bay on the ward: an end one with a large window and a fan! And because it was a hot day, the food staff even brought around ice lollies. The way each of the women in this ward lit up at this treat, you'd think none of us had ever seen an ice lolly before.
The overnight stay wasn't great: while the staff were absolutely fantastic and very friendly, the bed and pillow was not comfy, nor was the situation. Generally, I was awake with worry, and as me and my fellow patients needed monitoring throughout the night, we’d be woken up by staff for the checks they needed to do on us. It was like a clean, medical hostel, and y'all know I'm strictly a hotel girl!!!
Thankfully, I was discharged on Wednesday afternoon. Unfortunately, it was with a diagnosis of mild pre-eclampsia. I wouldn't be having the spontaneous natural birth I’d planned for the entire pregnancy. The doctor doing the ward rounds tried to push me for an induction - something I'd been against for the whole time - but I used the skills I'd learnt in my hypnobirthing course to advocate for myself and my baby. Both the doctor on ward rounds the day before, and my ex midwife mum, had stated C-section was another option, and in the end, I opted for that. I was a little sad I wouldn't be having the birth I'd planned for; however, ultimately, I just wanted my daughter here safely. The doctors gave me medication, a few more test appointments, a plan for the baby's birth, and I went on my way.
After a good night's sleep in my own bed, and set up to do my last day of work pre maternity leave on Thursday, I received a call that my Friday scan had been moved up to a couple of hours’ time. Again, I thought this was part and parcel - though a little anxious from the last 48-hour experience, so my partner joined me. The sonographer was not happy with the results of the scan and the health of my placenta, and back to MDU I was sent for monitoring. So ended my last work day pre baby, pretty unceremoniously.
The almost birth
As a result of the monitoring on the return to the MDU, I was readmitted to the ward, with a pretty big change: I'd be having my baby in just over 12 hours’ time. This wasn't we'd expected to hear, and I think the midwife could see the panic rising in my face, as she let me go home for a few hours with the promise to return before my next checks were due. Although I ate (and washed my hair… baby girl needed to see mummy's curls on POINT, even though her sight will be next to nothing lol), I don't think I fully digested what was happening. I think this'll be my biggest learning curve in motherhood: big plans changing frequently at a moment's notice. The fact it was all changing now, and I was going to have my first child and first ever surgery much sooner than I’d anticipated had me panicking. It was then another overnight stay in the hospital for me…
Nil by mouth from midnight, I was monitored throughout the night, and prepped early in the morning with my medications, fetching compression socks, and gown. The anaesthetist came and explained the procedure to me, and my fiance returned to the hospital, with us both ready to meet our child. My parents were on their way down the M25. We were told we were next or second after the next person. My anticipation was off the charts - both excitement to meet our daughter but anxiety about being operated on and the recovery to come afterwards. Then the consultant came. He'd reviewed my case and felt confident that it would actually be safer to hold off on baby's birth, and keep her in me a little longer. I felt a lot of confusion. And hunger. I stuffed my face less than five minutes after that conversation.
The consultant did another few checks himself, and recommended daily hospital monitoring in the interim, alongside medication and bed rest. After a few more tests, I was once again discharged from hospital.
I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this situation. I understand the reasoning for holding off, and actually with all context taken into consideration it makes the most sense. I can also recognise that all this chopping and changing is a result of being in multiple different doctors and midwives care, and their own professional opinions of the results and situation at hand. I can see it as a trial run for the real thing. However, I can't dismiss the mental impact of the situation. For about 16 or so hours, I thought I was about to have major surgery and had all the mental anguish and nerves that come with that - especially as someone who hasn't even had so much as a filling, and never been admitted to hospital before this week. My fiance and I thought we were leaving that hospital with our baby the next time we’d be driving away, that we'd be meeting our daughter and holding our child in our arms. And we didn't.
The actual birth
Less than a week later, it was ding ding ding, round two!!! I went into this round feeling far more excitement, and less trepidation, than I'd had on Friday’s ‘almost birth', because I'd actually had time to process the situation and mentally prepare for what was about to happen. We had a pre-op appointment a few days before the birth, which was super reassuring; they did all the tests on me (by this point, I'd been poked and prodded by medical staff for five days straight, so what's a few more tests), and I was able to ask as many questions as I liked - and you know me, Ms Journalist, I did just that!
Everything just felt so much better and calmer. I felt prepared for what was to come, despite a little freak out just before they put the cannula in my hand, as it all became real. Top tip: cannulas can be pretty uncomfortable to insert, but by adding Emla cream an hour before, it will make insertion pain free (though I can't promise that for the rest of the time it's in your hand…). I had various doctors, anaesthetists, and midwives come and talk to me, and the vibe was good. Unfortunately, there was a last-minute change and those who had introduced themselves to us were no longer doing the surgery, which upped the anxiety a little - more so given the ‘almost birth’, but within an hour of this news, we had a new team.
We walked over to the theatre and again, I started to freak out as I sat on the bed of what looked like a dentist surgery; however, my partner was excellent with his reassurance, as were the theatre staff. They answered my questions, and talked me through bits when I wanted to know what they were doing to me, but didn't overly explain bits I didn't want to know. They put on music we requested to make me feel at ease, and let me manage the situation in my own way (which was talk through the sensations I was feeling until I had my baby in my arms to distract me). The student midwife who has been shadowing my entire pregnancy came and scrubbed in; it was so good to have another recognisable face amongst the scrubs.
While I am keeping the more specific details of my daughter's first moments private, I will say the c section surgery wasn't anywhere near as bad as I had built up in my head. You seriously don't feel any pain - in fact, you don’t feel anything that you'd associate with what is actually happening to your body. Even the pressure they tell you you’ll feel isn't a bad pressure; genuinely, the cannula is what caused me most discomfort in that whole surgery. I had also been apprehensive about the catheter, but you seriously don't feel a thing on insertion or removal; and for the first time in months, it meant I didn't have to get up frequently for the loo (not that I could with my numb legs anyway)! The staff in the theatre and the initial recovery area (which you're in for a couple hours straight after surgery) run a tight ship - I didn't see a drop of my own blood in over 12 hours despite having literally been cut open and given the person inside of me. Baby even made it out in time to watch her first Arsenal game with Daddy!
Recovery
Before even being pregnant, I already disliked how people call c-sections the ‘easy way out’: birthing a child is never “easy.” Having now had a c-section myself, I despise this false narrative even more. Yes, the birth process itself is easier than natural labour, but the recovery more than makes up for that lack of labour. It's the same as recovery from any major surgery - arguably more difficult than a natural birth, and it is far longer.
Recovery was something I'd worried about when my ‘birth plan’ changed to c-section. The next few hours after the c-section were fine. I still had the anaesthetic coursing through my body, I had my catheter in, so I didn't need to move for anything (not that I could anyway until the anaesthetic on my lower body wore off), and I was also on a natural high from having met my daughter. Baby and I were under regular-ish observation (more on this later).
Day 2. Boy. I am such an advocate not to spread birth horror stories - positive birth stories were all I sought out during pregnancy - but I will say, openly and honestly, the day that follows a c-section is very hard. There's no two ways about it. You'll be in an unbelievable amount of pain - plus I had an infection, which didn't help as well. I begged for morphine. You can barely move yet have a small person to look after, and even feed from your own broken body. Thankfully, I had her Dad and my own parents; I don’t know how anyone would do it on their own - even on a hospital ward - and have the utmost respect for those who do.
However, every day after day 2 is SO much better (at least in my experience). You won’t be running any marathons anytime soon (hell, you won’t be running ANYWHERE, you’ll be shuffle-walking with as much speed as a snail), but it gets easier day by day. I'm writing this blog post five days after having my daughter, and I can honestly say the pain is manageable, and I'm ambling about at home as I normally would, just much, much slower and needing assistance for many things I wouldn’t normally. It truly is a humbling experience taking your sweet time to do something that normally would take you 20 seconds, like getting out of bed; or having to get someone to help you into a bathtub and wash your legs in your thirties. Even the post birth bleed that you get whether you deliver your baby vaginally or via c-section, hasn’t been as bad as I expected; though I have been advised it will come and go, heavier and lighter, over the next six weeks. I will say laughter isn’t the best medicine in this situation - laughter hurts!!!
I did feel overwhelmed at the thought of having to get into a car five days after a c-section to go to the five-day postnatal appointment (I asked for it to be at home and they said it isn't possible despite being ‘community’ midwives), but equally, it was good to get out of the house. The journey wasn’t near as bad as the journey from hospital to home, but boy, UK, we need to fix our roads!
The Staff
Leading on nicely from the mention of the postnatal appointment. Although this birth has been an overall positive experience, all things considered, our experience with medical professionals has been so so. I will say it has almost felt as though the moment I stopped being a pregnant woman, the care factor dropped. We had some really lovely staff who cared for me and baby during our two-day stay in hospital that followed baby’s birth (shout out to Natalie, Carol, Sophie and Karen!!!), but unlike what I'd been used to the rest of my pregnancy, there were also some less than lovely staff and some lack of care I hadn't experienced prior.
On that first night, I had to press the bell and call for someone twice, once to say my catheter hadn’t been checked in nearly 12 hours and the second to remind them to empty it as the first person had promised. I was there in the middle of the night, eyeing up my bag full of urine getting only bigger and bigger at the end of my bed, and trying to reduce my water intake as I didn't want it to back up back into me. I also didn't love being told that I “was lucky I didn't have to feed an 8 pound baby” or “this is your first child; the post birth uterine contractions are much worse by baby number 3” when I complained of pain a mere 8 hours after being cut open on an operating table. Nor did I enjoy being in so much pain the morning after the C-section that I was bawling my eyes out, calling the bell numerous times with no response, a lactation specialist requesting pain relief for me herself (and still not getting it an hour later), and eventually receiving a vial of oral morphine tossed at me with only a “confirm your date of birth” and “this means you can't go home today” despite being in clear distress. Don't even get me started on what we faced at the point of discharge. Again, I do feel the reasoning behind these issues we faced were a combination of the NHS being understaffed/overworked and that there is no consistency in care - we were seen by sooooo many staff members during our stay - but equally, I can't excuse that either: we’re there to be cared for too. I think it was even more a shock to the system because even up to the hospital stays in the MDU leading up to the birth, even in the damn operating theatre, the staff had been so lovely and committed to caring, both physically and emotionally.
My final thoughts
I'd heard the term “birth disappointment” thrown about throughout my pregnancy, where people spoke of being disappointed by not getting to have the birth experience that they wanted. I couldn't understand it to be honest: aren't you happy your baby has been born safely? Not everything has to be an ✨experience✨that we review. I definitely didn't have birth disappointment, but I felt a huge sense of being ill prepared for what was about to happen to me, my baby, and my body, with the ‘almost birth’. I'd spent the entire second trimester and most of the third trimester preparing to have a spontaneous vaginal birth. I'd done the hypnobirthing courses, gone to the antenatal classes, read the books, written the birth plan, even done certain preparations on my body to put it in the best place for this, and now all that had gone out the window, and something that I had much less information on was about to happen to us. As I said before, I’m a prepper and planner.
However, with the actual birth, I was able to garner more information, and use some of the things from above (like reading positive c-section stories on the Positive Birth Company FB group, linked to my hypnobirthing course, and actually read the information my hospital sent to me on c-sections), so I felt way more empowered - while also finally coming around to the fact I simply cannot prepare for everything motherhood will throw at me. As long as my baby is delivered safe, and healthy, that's what matters most.
I can't finish this blog without a note to my parents, who have been excellent this last week, and most of all, my birthing partner: my fiance is fantastic. I haven't gone into his experience of the situation in this post as it's not my place to put that out on the internet, but I will say I felt thoroughly supported by him throughout the entire experience; not just in the theatre - but he seriously shone there with his humour and distractions. Throughout this pregnancy, birth, and in the days that have followed, he has let me feel my feelings and have my reactions good or bad. He seesawed between tough love and soft love where appropriate. He has also spoken his truth and view of the situation, even if he knew I wouldn't agree, to give me alternative viewpoints to think about when I couldn't see further than the end of the (uncomfortable) hospital bed. I truly would have been lost without him by my side.
