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Being induced- my birth story

While looking at Logan with pride which I often do, I also sometimes think back to the adventure I went through to get him. I say adventure because I look back and remember the emotions, pain and moments in which gave me my birth story. Each mum/dad has a story which is unique to her/him, mine was very unique… my poor midwife was baffled and didn’t know what to do; she said she had never seen that happen before! Carry on reading to find out what left her with the only option, to conflict utter pain onto me and apologise each time in guilt.

While pregnant I never connected with my pregnancy, because by that point in my life I felt like all the good things in my life never lasted. I just couldn’t see a baby at the end of 9 months, so I emotionally shut down, plus that mixed with prenatal depression. I don’t remember the moment I realised that I was going to be a mum, then I don’t think I did, even when he was born it all felt so unreal. One happy unreal, as all my anxieties, fears and self-doubt went. I wasn’treally living before I had Logan and I thank him for showing me how to love, how to enjoy the small moments and to just appreciate what does last; what’s unconditional.

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I was so frustrated by the end of the long nine months, each day passing my due date ticked by. Then Looking back I had no hope of going into labour, from events to follow. Inducement booked, the above photo the day before hides the emotions of a very nervous girl. I woke the morning of being induced looking around my room, was this really going to be the last time I’m in here on my own? I quickly changed my thoughts what if something went wrong, the whole car journey I pretended I was fine when deep down I felt so scared and alone. I guess all mums go in not knowing what is going to happen, if all is going to be straightforward and fine.

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At the hospital, the pessary in, and time went in slow motion as each hour went by with my hands sweating endlessly. Walking around the hospital, tossing and turning in my bed and then just shy of 8pm and an hour before my mum was going to be kicked out, I went to the ladies. I had felt uncomfortable and crampy, that’s when I smiled for the first time that day; my water had gone. I was so excited with weeing myself, was this real? Was I going to actually take my baby home.

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Now is where things got complicated and baffling to my midwife, within the first hour and a half and attempting a bath that I couldn’t get out of from constant contractions I went into full-blown labour… kind of, I was hooked up to that contraction monitor thing and they came one after another. I felt the urge to push and for the 100th time she said no you are only 3cm dilated, ‘stop pushing’. Suddenly her face dropped as she could feel and see his head already peaking out even tho my cervix wasn’t fully dilated! What was she left to do? Apparently rush me up stairs and stretch my cervix open with her hands through each agonising contraction (ouch!).  Just under two hours of stretching and apologising, then I had doctors and nurses all around me discussing whether to continue or if i should be taken into theatre. I was so gas and aired up I think  I spent that whole time in a trance and I stopped with the gas and air looking around. My midwife had complete fear in her face and said you have to push right now as hard as you can with one last push as baby is in distress. So I did and finally my body gave Logan up to presence the world with his cute face, fluffy hair and a very squashed circle on the top back of his head where he was trying to get through my partially opened cervix.

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All in all I had a four hour stretchy labour, the first thing I said was I would do that all over again. I would be stretched (tortured) for as long as it was needed, once his head was out they had to pull his body out without a contraction; the placenta had exploded or whatever the right term is. I didn’t even notice anything by this point I just stared at Logan for the next hour and a half while being repaired, 4am hit and off home we went. Bank holiday Monday ment less staff, packed rooms and they needed me gone; I was happy to wrapp up my bundle of joy and head home to soak in his cuteness.

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I look back at the pain, the times I couldn’t eat for days, every moment we go through from the start is just a little sacrifice; the first ones of many we do as parents. Next time I hope they recover any left over placenta! I also hope in the future I would have a better midwife, forgetting to order my injection for my rhesus negative blood wasn’t profesional, luckily I could go back a few days later for it.

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Rob couldn’t be at the labour but since day one he has been my rock, best friend and the best dad. He was amazing throughout my pregnancy and still show’s me how amazing he is to this day. ❤

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