Sal had a C-section delivery. We were at 41weeks and 2 day when he arrived.
We had opted to go down the induced delivery route. A scan (pre-induction) showed the babies legs were off the chart (??) and he was weighing in at approximately 9lbs. At the time we still didn’t know the sex but came to the conclusion we must be having a frog.
We had had no signs of labour post 40 week, so following a consultation with the midwives, Sal went into hospital on the 18th and had a pessary induction. She had to go back the following day as the pessary fell out. She had been having mild cramps all day and at 10pm her waters broke. It was quite the break. Her waters ran all through the bedroom, down the stairs and were still going when she trundled though hospital, up onto the Obstetric Assessment Unit.
It was slow going to get to the hospital. Sal was only able to move between contractions. Having about a contraction a minute. We ambled out into the car, bags loaded in and off we went to the hospital. 8 minutes later, we arrived. The roads quiet given the time. I helped Sal out of the car and into the hospital where a Covid policing HCA was defending the entrance. She gestured us in and took Sal’s temperature. I was then politely told to bugger off. I stood back and watched Sal struggling down the corridor, stopping only for a contraction, before making it into the lifts and disappearing up.
An hour later, Sal had rapidly progress from 4cm upon arrival to 9cm and was moved up to the deliver suit. Her contraction rate was 5 every 10 minutes, each contraction lasting a minute. I got the call to come in. I was still in the car outside so bailed out and legged it past PC Covid on the door. I arrived up on the delivery suit before Sal, much to the midwives amusement.
Sal arrived on a bed, mid contraction, giving it six nowt on the entonox (Gas & Air). She was a bit disorientated and shouted in panic, “Where’s the dog!” The dog was at home with the mother in law. Sadly he wouldn’t have be welcome in the delivery suit and to be fair, I doubt he’d be much addition. I did try and explain that to him when we left but, being a dog, his English is a bit shit. I don’t think he really cared. He’s pretty oblivious to most things. He’s yet to notice there’s a baby in house.
Sal had continued to labour right through until 6:30am but sadly hadn’t progressed further than 9cm. The Obstetric Dr though it was a little less and was concerned that Sal had tired. She’d be contracting continuously since yesterday afternoon and now the contractions had started to slow. The doctor laid out the options and fearing an instrumental delivery, Sal opted for the C-section.
Baby was out at 07:10. It took the team 40 minutes to consent Sal for the operation, do the theatre checklist, wheel her around to theatre, put in the epidural and then operate. Baby boy, 8.7lbs. Beautiful little thing. Normal legs too. Not even a shade of green.
It took them a while longer to close sal up with sutures before we headed down to Recovery. There was a delay in getting a bed on a ward, so we stayed in recovery until nearly 1pm. Come 1pm, Sal was transferred out with our boy. I was then kicked out. Not even my sleep depravation or that sodding parking ticket from Parking Eye (Bell ends) could put a dampener on this day.
When your baby was born, you aren’t prepared for that emotional surge. You can’t prep for it and people just cannot explain it to you. You just have to experience it for yourself. Everyone was saying it’ll change your life. They were right. I hadn’t even seen him yet when I heard his first cry, I joined him. Sat there on the other side of a curtain, tears running down my face. They weighted and cleaned him, before he brought him over to us. His cord already cut and clamped, he was paced onto Sal, skin to skin. It was beautiful. That love and bond already formed. Utterly joyous. I haven’t stopped smiling.
That’s a wee photo of our little man. Taken on the 20th, the day he was born. Still not got a name for him yet.