Birth Stories
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It was the day the whole country had been preparing for. Weeks,
if not months of anticipation and careful preparation and it had
finally arrived. Would it last for ages or would it be over before
it had even begun? Everybody was talking about nothing else but….
The Eclipse. (Except of course for residents of my road, who had
been treated to their own personal eclipse every time I loomed out
into the garden to hang out the washing.)
Would it be remembered as one of the definitive moments of the
20th Century? Like Kennedy's assassination? Like Diana's Death?
I certainly know exactly where I was and what I was doing. I was
sat in Ante-Natal in Kings College Hospital waiting for my obstetrician
to do some catching up "he's running SERIOUSLY late" was the message
from reception. I ventured outside at one point, but as I didn't
have an old NHS xray through which to view events and didn't fancy
being transferred straight to Moorcrofts (Eye Hospital), lumbered
back inside again.
I was 37 weeks and well fed up. The only 3 little words I was whispering
were "Get them out" and I was not pleased when my obstetrician (drowning
in a sea of patients) ditched me on to the midwife pile. Midwife
copped for loads of abuse and my blood pressure went through the
roof. So much so that I had to be admitted, but not until I'd had
a "sweep". (The Midwife sweeps the cervix during an internal to
try and induce labour.) "Yep - I can feel his head alright" she
said. It feels so low down they can probably feel it in Devon I
thought.
So I came home, got my stuff together and took a cab back to Kings.
I retrieved my husband Simon from the course he was on in Leeds,
and settled down to enjoy the entire stock of my local newsagent.
Contractions came and went, nothing more than a strong period pain
really. I was on a promise that if I hadn't started labour by the
morning and my blood pressure was still high I would be induced.
Strangely though, I hadn't been examined once since admittance,
except for a 12 year old in a white coat who came up and pushed
my tummy about a bit. (When he asked me if I had any questions I
so wanted to ask him which school he went to). Things had been happening
though, and at 1.30am my waters broke with a bang loud enough to
wake the ward. I could barely move, unlike baby 1 who was heading
for home.
When I finally convinced the nurses that a. my waters had broken,
b. I was having the babies, and c. NOW, they brought a wheelchair
and I was taken up to Labour Ward, pronto. From there it's all straightforward
really. The first examination I had (another 12 year old - don't
go near a hospital at the beginning of August or February as that's
when the newly qualifieds are let loose on the living) was short
and ended with just one word - "IMMINENT!".
It was 2.30am before I got into a delivery room big enough for
me, Simon and the 6 or so staff and the next 50 minutes whizzed
by while the registrar scanned and planned her next move. Alex was
born with a single push at 3.20am and Toby (although breech) followed
with his arms above his head at 3.41am. I'm convinced I would never
have made it to hospital had I not already been there and was very
grateful that I didn't have to have any intervention at all really
(apart from the epidural which I wanted).
I don't know whether the fact that it was my second delivery, or
what but it was by far a much quicker, more enjoyable, less demanding
experience than my first birth 2 years before. I'd do it again tomorrow.
(HAH!)
Lindsey Gray - www.twinsclub.co.uk
Mum to Oliver, and twins Alex and Toby
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