Saturday 29th of May 1999
Went out last night with Jo (my best friend), Amy and some other friends. I met Jo when I was doing my Foundation year before being accepted into University. We’ve known each other for 5 years now. I met Amy on my first year at UNL, she was a proper student (at the right age), and she lived in this house for 2 years before travelling around the world and coming back in April. When Amy came around yesterday she brought you a present. Two army style tops and Combat shorts! You looked so trendy on them. These days Army wear is very fashionable.
It’s 23:00 and you just woken up, but I picked you up, and now you are lying on a pillow, on my lap, feeding, while I type this. Anyway, last night I got very drunk, as I’m not used to drinking anymore it doesn’t take much; the fact that I had a few vodkas with Red Bull (It gives you wiiingsss) didn’t help. R. was looking after you while I was out. I came home ‘early’, at midnight, because I missed you so much. This morning when we got up, (Amy stayed here, as she now lives miles away), we heard that her sister had gone into hospital – to have her baby: another one in the world! Never, in my life, there have been so many babies being born at the same time. Babs, Sarah, Sinead, Lisa, Nane (in Brasil) and me: we all got pregnant within the same year.
Anyway, I had a hell of a hangover and you normally get up when I’m ready to get up: but not today, you were determined to be awake at 8 am, just because R. had to be up at that time to go to work! It’s so funny when you wake up, you start flailing your arms around, like they have automatic springs and you just hit anything that’s in your way, which is normally R.’s back, as I put you between us in the bed when you wake me up, and turn you around so you can do your worst on your dad’s back. He quite likes it, is as if he was having an erratic massage. I’m dying to buy a digital video camera, but they are soooooo expensive. I want to film you, but all I can do is take photos for now. Some of your best photos are on the internet, so the friends and family I can’t see in person can take a look at you in cyberspace.
Today there was a very powerful thunderstorm, as you dad came home from work. We sat in the bedroom listening to it (it was almost scary), the thunder seemed to be hitting just outside the window, but you weren’t scared, probably because we weren’t. Next thing we know Francis and Tony (they both share the house with us) are screaming down the stairs. We rushed to the hallway that leads to the bathroom, and there was water trickling through the light bulb! We could also hear a buzzing noise, like the whole thing was going to short circuit any second. So we had to turn off the power to that area of the house and now there is no light in my room, your dad’s room, Tony’s room and the bathroom. I had to take a dump in the dark earlier on. I just hate this place and we can’t wait to get out. We are on the waiting list for a council flat (we are too poor to buy a place) but it just takes forever even though this place is almost dangerous to live in. I’ll write to council again to say that every time it rains water leaks through the light fitting. That might help our case.
You’ve gone back to sleep now, you are just the sweetest thing on earth when you are asleep.
Giving birth to you was a very dramatic event. I just finished printing and binding my final year programming project (which I finished a month before it was due as I knew once you were born I would not be able to do any work) on the Tuesday (8/12). I was waddling around university like a duck all day and finally managed to hand it in the afternoon. We went to sleep and I woke up at 4 am with mild contractions. I thought “it’s early days yet” and went back to sleep to preserve my energy for the labour or whatever was about to happen. I didn’t even wake R. up. When we woke up at 8, the pain was stronger; the contractions were 10-15 mins apart. And we thought “This is it now, no going back”. I started ringing everyone to let them know what was happening, including the hospital. They said that if my waters broke, or the contractions became more regular, I should then go to hospital.
I wanted a home birth, but because you were my first child, they did not think it would be safe. But I had this plan, that I would only go to hospital at the very last minute, when I could not take the pain anymore, and maybe this way, there was a chance you could just pop out at home. So I spent the whole day chilling out, Val came around (another friend from uni), we had a laugh, then we went to the cafe with your dad to have a fry up, and while we were timing the contractions, we thought we might as well put the minutes on the lottery. So if I had a contraction at 3:15 and another at 3:25, we’d use the 15 and 25 as the numbers. We came back home, and then went to sleep. We didn’t win the lottery. The contractions weren’t much stronger than period pains, so I was coping ok. I had a shower, to relax, before sleeping. I woke up at around 5 am, in agony (if only I knew it was only the beginning…). We started timing the contractions and they were 10 mins apart.
The pain was scaring me, so we went to the Labour ward, by taxi. Once we got there (at 6 in the morning) we were put in a nice room with a birthing pool, and as the room wasn’t booked, I could have had you there. But it was early days, there wasn’t even any dilation yet… I was lying in bed, with straps around my belly, so your heartbeat could be monitored. They gave me gas and air, and I was just concentrating on getting high, to relieve the pain. Your dad had some too and we were both laughing our little heads off for about 5 minutes. After a few hours, the contractions became irregular, nothing much was happening, and we were moved to Cerns ward at 11:45 (not nice…).
There was not much privacy there, except for curtains. I had another bath and we were just waiting around. R. had a sleep on the little bed with me; I couldn’t really relax because of the pain. As the pain increased, I asked for an injection of Pethidine (a grave mistake, in hindsight). It just made me too wasted to react to the pain, although I could tell it was there, and I think it messed up the whole process. My mum showed up in the afternoon, and R. went home to sort himself out – he was going to come back later. The midwife (a woman who could barely speak English – but whom I grew to like the more time I spent there) came to say that I was better off going home and waiting. She thought I would be able to relax at home and that was what I needed – that is what all women in labour need: privacy.
For some reason your grandma got into her head that there was something wrong and was creating havoc all around the ward, being rude to the nurses. Val – like an angel – showed up, to see how I was doing (she was soo sweet to me during that time). I was getting really angry with my mum, for making me even tenser than I was already. So I phoned R. to say I was going home with Val. I had to tell my mum to leave me alone for now, as she had created enough commotion for one birth, and left with Val. I couldn’t carry any weight, and neither could Val (she had a bad back), so he had to borrow a wheelchair to take our bags to the car. So there I was, still having contractions, pushing my bags on a wheelchair.
We were back home by about 8 in the evening and it was still Thursday, the 10th. I didn’t get much sleep that night. The contractions kept waking me up. I couldn’t eat much either. I spent the whole night in agony. I had a couple of baths to relax me… I can’t remember much, I just remember timing the contractions whenever I woke up with the pain.
When daylight came (about 8:30 am on the Thursday) I had had enough: I phoned an ambulance. When they came upstairs, I was vomiting in the rubbish bin. It was a very cold morning, and I left the house wearing my bathrobe… They took us three to the hospital again (you, myself and R.). It was great zooming up Holloway road on an ambulance, I almost forgot the pain. We went straight to Cerns ward this time (not the Labour ward, as they recognised me as the ‘early labour’ one). The same nurse was there again; when she looked at me she said that now I was in proper pain, as opposed to yesterday. The day before I thought the pain was bad, but as it got worse, the previous pain seemed like nothing compared to the current pain.
I was already begging for an epidural, but they can only give it once the dilation is at least 3cm. The nurse said I was only 1cm dilated! I could not believe it. From the pain I thought you were ready to be born… Another day was spent in the ward. I ate and walked around.
Sinead and Shah came over to visit us in the afternoon, but I could barely talk to them. The pain was driving me nuts. The evening came and another nurse suggested that I went home (AGAIN!), and when she said that the pain just got even worse… I was panicking. She reminded me of the relaxation techniques (I just wanted to murder someone at that stage, that would have relaxed me all right). She said there was a long way to go yet, my dilation had not increased all day, so I’d be better off at home. I really didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want to be there either. I just wanted the whole nightmare to be over with and to have my baby outside, safe and sound. I kept thinking how distressing it might have been for you. All those contractions pounding your little body and the urge to leave the womb, but not being able to. So, reluctantly, we went home.
According to the hospital notes, I ‘decided’ to leave at 19:00… It was more like I had no choice. The cab driver must have been confused, thinking he was going in the wrong direction. I had my knees on the seat, grabbing the headrest and screaming with the contractions: and he was taking us home?! It was Friday night… People were going to pubs and I was screaming on the cab on our way home.
Your dad had been relatively patient (he’s not the most patient person I ever met – he’s as bad as me) but I could tell he was getting fed up with the whole ordeal. So when we got home I told him to sleep upstairs, as I wasn’t going to get any sleep. And one of us needed to have a rest and be clear headed. I spent the longest night of my life in a limbo state. I was having to concentrate real hard when the contractions came, on my breathing, on being ‘comfortable’ (as if that was possible). I remember having baths to relax. I stroked Kita a lot (the cat I had), I walked around the room, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep whenever possible, but every time I started falling asleep a contraction would wake me up and take me totally by surprise making the pain even more unbearable. So I decided I was better off awake, when I could anticipate the contraction and concentrate more on breathing. All the air I inhaled did things to my brain and I was in a weird state of mind. I felt powerful, as I could handle the pain, but if I lost concentration for one second I would have a very painful contraction (they were lasting about 50 seconds and 10/12 minutes apart).
I don’t remember where R. came from, but he gave me some food, and water. I brought the toaster to the bedroom, so I could eat. I hadn’t eaten properly since Thursday and hadn’t had much sleep either… I was losing my mind. Somehow I made it through the night. I can’t remember what I did on the Saturday during the day. I think we spent the day timing contractions. R. was looking after me. I can’t remember much from that day. The next thing I remember clearly was R. and I arguing. I was determined to go back to hospital and R. was trying to convince me that the contractions were not regular enough. I don’t know how long we discussed what to do. At one point R. said that if I went back to hospital he would not come with me. But this time I was determined that something had to be done or I would die. I couldn’t cope anymore. I had been in agony for too long. It was not normal.
Eventually we got back to hospital at 3:00 am, on the 13th of December. R. was convinced that we would be coming back home again, but I would not go back home anymore until you were born. I was examined and I was only 2cm dilated! I could not believe it! They decided to break my waters, and when they did that I went straight to 3cm. There was meconium in the water and they realised that you were in distress (babies defecate in the womb, if they are distressed, or overdue – you were early, so you must have been distressed: is that a surprise?). I knew it! At last, things were beginning to move. I kept giving R. looks of “I told you so”. At 3:35 am I finally got the long awaited epidural!
That is another story… As I was being given the injection on my back (which meant I didn’t see the needle), your father, who could see everything, went limp, his eyes rolled over and he fainted! He nearly took me down with him. The midwife and epidural man rushed around to hold R., just before he hit the floor. I burst out laughing; I think it was nerves and relief for finally having the epidural. He came around a few seconds later and he was apologising – I was just laughing. The midwife said it happens quite a lot and I like telling this story to everyone. It’s just the icing on the cake of a very hard labour.
From then on it was more or less plain sailing. I had a few hours sleep, as the pain vanished, your dad had some sleep too. The consultant wanted to scrape some skin samples from your head, as he was very worried about you being in distress and wanted to do a caesarian. I said no, I wanted to have a natural birth. I felt quietly confident and I just wanted them to leave us alone and let the dilation happen – it was going really fast once they broke the waters and I had some sleep. They carried on monitoring your heartbeat and decided that things looked ok.
At 16:00, Tracy (the midwife who was there when you were born) said it was time to start pushing. She just stood at the end of the bed while I laid on my left hand side. R. was holding my hand. There was no urge to push, as the pain was gone, but I could feel a faint pain, like wanting to poo, and that was when I had to push. R. kept saying he could see your head and Tracy was saying how well I was doing and I just carried on pushing with all my strength.
Then I just saw this black round thing coming out from between my legs – it took me a few seconds to realise that it was the back of your head! Tracy told me to hold for a little while and I was just staring at the back of your head, it was amazingly strange… It was all blurred as I wasn’t wearing my glasses. I started pushing again and R. said that you came out with one of your fists up, like when you celebrate a goal or some kind of victory. And then you were out!
They didn’t give you to me, because you had meconium all over you, they had to clear your nose and check your mouth for the stuff. They then gave you a bath and I was just following you around. They were saying things like “time of birth: 16:43, birth weight: 2,990 kg, head circumference:30 cm, length:50 cm. Oh, well done, you don’t need any stitches!”. I was given an injection and Tracy delivered the placenta, but I wasn’t paying any attention. I pushed when she asked me to push, I saw the umbilical cord: it was bright greenish and thinner than I imagined. I didn’t look at the placenta properly (I didn’t have my glasses on anyway).
And finally: I held you. I was so exhausted, it all seemed unreal and dreamy. Your face was all scrunched up and you were very skinny and sleepy. And I just wanted to protect you. R. said I could call you any name I liked, even though we had spent hours discussing what you would be called. We had more problems choosing the name if you were a girl (I wanted Anna, R. didn’t). For a boy we were undecided between Daniel and Lee. I chose Daniel. He was proud of me, I guess, and he probably understood too well the pain I had gone through. So, Daniel it was! We were transferred to Cerns ward and I have to go now, its 1:00 am and you are waking up! ( Hello Daniel : Dad ).
First Year Photos on Flickr https://www.flickr.com/photos/plasmatika/albums/1127353