Waiting for our minute

They say that there is one born every minute, and before we leave Bolton Hospital we would like to have had ours, when this minute happens though is completely out of our hands.

We arrived early as usual to our appointment for induction and the whole plan of action was laid out to military standards...

A quick monitor of baby to hear the soothing sounds of the heartbeats.  Depending on everything being fine, a pessary will be put on place to encourage a hormonal change of the cervix.  This can take up to 24 hours, although there was a young girl in the bed next to Clare who had been in hospital since Saturday (3 days earlier) and had not moved any further down the line.  Monitoring will continue throughout the day and a further pessary may have to be administered if nothing happens.  All is in the hands of the midwifery team now, but as I said, Clare will not be leaving this hospital until Baby D is part of our family.  The main reason behind this is the reason why Clare is being induced.  Due to her blood condition, there is a higher risk of blood clots at a later stage of the pregnancy that could be detrimental to both Clare and Baby.  It is imperative that Baby D joins us or things could get tricky.

Just after 11am, the first pessary was added and the Pregnancy Olympics began.  Time for serious power walking, bouncing balls and Pregnant Pilates.  Our first event was the 100m waddle, up and down the ward corridors trying to beat our personal records.

Our second event was the inflatable ball bounce.  Jigging up and down on the huge balls whilst watching Judge Rinder.  We were coming to the conclusion of the first case, a ruined painting and the artist claiming for damages when Clare commented that her back was giving her a little pain.  She decided that it was time to lie down and have a rest.  I never did find out what happened to the painting.

Not long after we were back on the monitor noticing that the contractions had increased in frequency and strength.  The Toca readings were peaking around the 30-40 mark.  All of a sudden Clare's face became flustered.....35....noises started emanating that I had never heard before.....45....the groans turned to pains....60...all of a sudden, Clare's eyes glazed over...80, 60, 50, 30, back into the 10's, "I think something just happened", Clare said, it had, her waters had broken.

The contractions became more frequent and more painful as the hours progressed, and it was here that I entered the "completely useless" stage of my journey, All I could do was offer a hand to squeeze and offer pointless words of comfort.  In complete adoration of my wonderful Clare and everything she had gone and was about to go through, all I could do was be there for her whenever she needed me.

Our midwife on this first part of our long journey was Hayley, incredibly informed, perfectly personable and a real asset to the ward.  It also turned out that Clare knew her husband from their school days.

Soon the contractions had increased in frequency and had become immensely painful that gas and air had to be administered.  This was when Clare started her next euphoric stage.

We had been told that the Central Delivery Suite was busy and we were waiting for a room to become available.  The girl who had been in since Saturday was still on the ward with us, so we knew a wait could be before us.  Thankfully, Clare's case had become more urgent and as soon as a room was available we jumped the queue.  The only room that was available was D8, this was the room that our son, Spud, was born in only a few years earlier, the room that has been offered to us, emotionally, each time we have been to the hospital for procedures and we have declined.  We accepted that this was Spud's way of telling us to move on, Baby D would be born in the same room as her brother and would carry on his memory

The pain only increased as the time progressed and the power of the gas and air was having little effect.  Diamorphine was the next step on the pain reduction scale and was injected into her thigh with almost immediate effects. Although not completely subsiding, the pains of the contractions were reduced, for now

The next step was to add a little sticky tape to Baby D's head to monitor heartbeat and contractions a little more accurately.  Our midwives on for this final journey were Barbara and Student Midwife Stephanie.  They both became permanent residents in D8 and provided excellent one-to-one care and attention to Clare and even put up with my constant questioning and writing (for this blog)

Another hour of so passed and with them the pains seemed to be increasing.  The diamorphine was wearing off and our new, more precise heartbeat monitor had changed from the soothing whoops and swooshes we were used to and become more of a rhythmic metronome.

Clare had decided that the pain was too much, too intense to continue and requested the next level of pain relief, an epidural.  After a consultation with the anesthetist things seemed to progress fairly quickly.  Moments later, the largest needle I have ever seen was produced.  Thankfully, as it later turned out, it was only to administer the relief through a cannula that had been inserted into Clare's spine, within 10 minutes Clare was snoring.  I think the Epidural had worked it's magic.  The pain that was evident in Clare's eyes diminished within a matter of minutes, after a few more minutes Clare was back with us and requesting tea and toast.  It had been a long day so far and we were both feeling tired, although I had no excuse but needed to keep my energy up purely for cheer leading and supporting duties.  With the occasional pressure of administering a dampened flannel at the correct temperature to Clare's brow, I was still feeling completely useless.

At just short of 1am, 16 hours after our journey had started at Bolton Hospital this morning.  A quick check of the Clare's cervix revealed that things were moving in the right direction.  The metronome heart beat still ticking rhythmically, contractions still occurring 5 in 10 (I had learnt so many new phrases in relation to pregnancy and this was another to add to the list). With Barbara and Stephanie still looking after us we prepared for what lay ahead.  Still a couple of hours, it feels very strange that we are now thinking in hours, not days, weeks, or even months, just hours.  I remember when we first found out about Baby D and the thought of what lay ahead was inconceivable, how could we deal with the stress, worries and problems that lay ahead, how could we ever reach the end of those 9 months....here we are, hours and minutes away

The ryhthmic tick tocks had become a little concern around 3am and further investigations were needed.  Baby D had stopped enjoying the experience and was in slight discomfort.  A range of options varying in severity were presented, but all of these depended on the result of a FBS (Fetal Blood Snap - another pregnancy phrase to add to the book).  This meant a little pin prick on Baby D's head after a numbing agent was applied, the blood was then drawn and tested.

1. If the blood came back with no concern then the monitoring would continue via the heartbeat monitor and everything would proceed as normal
2. If the blood came back with slight concerns then pushing would be advised and a gentle easing of Baby D via a suction cup to help deliver quicker
3. If the blood came back with serious concerns then Clare would be going into surgery for a C-Section

All of the above scenarios resulted in Baby D with us very soon, but they added increased concern to Clare.

The blood results came back and although they were all normal, the heart rate was still a concern so a descision was made.  Clare would be able to follow a normal pushing route, but if nothing happened in 10 minutes then the dyson hoover was coming out.  No pressure then!

No longer than 7 minutes later, suction commenced

After 12 hours of feeling pretty useless and superfluous I had the ultimate privilege of telling Clare that our newest family member was a little princess and I cut the umbilical cord that tied all the past turmoil and pain. 

At 4:22am on the 17th February 2016, Baby Isabella Christina Rose was brought into our lives,  Baby D has a name, a mum and a dad, a gaggle of grandparents who arrived a 5am to meet their miracle grandchild, and uncles, cousins, an amazing family waiting to meet our little princess.

She is worth every second.