Context:
Matilda (or Tallulah, as she was known in utero) was due about 31st May. As Poppy had been born 6 days before her due date, I was expecting/hoping that this baby would arrive early too - in fact I was thinking that the 23rd again would be a good date ... Obviously I was wrong.

The weekend that she was due arrived, and I started to have a horrible pain in my right buttock/hip. Soon I could hardly walk, and spent a lot of my time lying down with hot and cold compresses applied, whilst Poppy played near me. I did some exercises that my Active Birth (yoga) teacher described to me, which relieved the pain whilst I was in position, but not permanently. I also went to the osteopath a couple of times: the first time I saw her I burst into tears on her doorstep as there was some mix-up, and my appointment was not actually till the next day, but some kind man with a bad knee swapped with me. These sessions did help lessen the pain, but I still couldn't really do much. I managed to potter about the house enough to do completely necessary stuff, but I couldn't walk down the road. It was very miserable.

I think the sciatica was caused by the pressure of Tilda's head on a nerve. I was worried that it would affect my labour, and prevent me having an active birth, but in the event, that wasn't a problem. It definitely prolonged my waiting though - as I couldn't move much, or be upright for long, the head had no chance to shift, and I am sure that if I had been able to exercise more, she would have arrived earlier.

The midwife visited me at home every few days, and did 2 stretch-and-sweeps at about 8 and 11 days 'overdue', by which time I was a 'stretchy' 2-3 cms dilated. Many women do not like the idea/practice of stretch-and-sweeps, but mine were not uncomfortable. I was happier to have them, rather than end up in hospital being induced.

My spell on the hospital conveyor belt
I spent a lot of this time reading about the pros and cons of various methods of induction, and did try some natural methods at home. I was too far along for prostaglandin, and there was no way I was having an oxytocin drip. I decided that as I knew this baby's head was well down (and it seemed extremely unlikely it would suddenly float upwards putting me at risk of a prolapsed cord) that my favoured method of induction would be artificial rupture of membranes.

Anyway, I was sent up to the hospital at about 10 days over to arrange the induction if necessary. After a while, a doctor stuck her head round the corner of the waiting area, called me, and disappeared again. By the time I had hobbled into the corridor, she had vanished - whether round the next corner or though one of the closed doors I didn't know. So I staggered a bit further, cursing her, and eventually she opened a door and impatiently beckoned me in. Good start. I'd thought that this appointment might be a bit more 'technical', but no. She took my BP and made me an appointment for 8.30 am on the Saturday (13 days over) to have my waters broken. The appointment had to be for Saturday - I did ask about Monday or Tuesday, but apparently they were very busy that following week - I could have just turned up, but then would have had to wait until a quiet moment for anything to be done. A woman who came out soon after me was crying because she was a week overdue, and she couldn't get an appointment for induction of labour for another 10 days.

Then unfortunately I needed to have another blood test because they'd lost the last lot. No comment. At first they told me I'd have to go to the main path dept as the maternity blood-taker had gone home or was at lunch or somesuch, but I pointed out that it was impossible for me to walk that far, so they checked, and there was someone there to do it. This woman was clearly in a hurry though, because she jabbed the needle in, making me suffer my most painful blood test, and leaving me with a huge black bruise that looks really good in the 'new baby' photos.

I had to go back on the Friday (2 days' time) to have everything checked out, and as long as all was well, I wouldn't have to stay the night.

I was trying very hard to be positive about my labour being induced. With the sciatica, I didn't feel like this baby was going to shift at all on its own. I was in a lot of pain, and was very very miserable and really really wanted that aspect of the pregnancy to end. The midwife had told me that after AROM they would wait about 4 hours for things to start happening by themselves, before they would want to think about augmenting with oxytocin. That seemed reasonable to me - I was confident that my waters breaking would be enough to move the head enough to get into a better position on my cervix and start things going. I was also confident that if needs be, I could argue enough to extend the 4 hour limit, because there was really no way I was having the drip!

But mainly, one of my first reasons for wanting a home birth was to minimize the disruption to 18 month old Poppy, and scheduling the induction of labour for the weekend, when we could arrange in advance for her to be looked after, seemed to fulfil that desire. I was also quite sure that if I had my waters broken at 8.30am I would be back home with a baby before I went to bed that night. As long as I didn't have to spend a night in hospital I reckoned it would be OK - after all, it wasn't Poppy's birth that really put me off the hospital, that bit was great, it was the time there afterwards.

Anyway ...
... that was Wednesday at the hospital. Thursday afternoon, my midwife came round, said encouraging things, and did a second stretch-and-sweep. After she left I did start having some semi-regular twinges ... but they stopped when I went to bed.

However ... when I got up again the next morning, they started again :-) So I was in a strange position all that day, with half of my mind monitoring the contractions (which is what I was gingerly allowing myself to call them, though they weren't at all painful), and checking that they carried on coming roughly every 10 minutes, and the other half studiously ignoring them, and concentrating on the IOL the next day! That afternoon, in this schizoid state, I dropped Poppy off at my neighbour, collected Chris and went to the hospital.

In Admissions, the woman tried to slap a wristband on me, but I whipped my arm away, doublequick, and told her I *wasn't* staying! Went in, had a lie down with the belt on, all fine. I had 3 contractions show up there on the monitor, 9 minutes apart. When I asked the midwife if they were 'proper' contractions (still worried that they were maybe just Braxton Hicks), she kind of said yes, but that I had a long way to go yet, dear :-P Then I told her I was booked for a home birth, and so if things happened before the next morning, should I just phone my midwife as planned? "No, dear, you're booked in here now, you might as well just come in." (!!!) I just smiled and nodded.

My mum was coming that evening to stay the night, and look after Poppy the next day. But by the time she arrived at 9 or 10 pm, it seemed clear that this baby was going to arrive before the morning :-)

The main event
When my mum first arrived, Chris and she were chatting, and I was a bit worried that they would carry on chatting, and not pay enough attention to me being in labour, but that wasn't a problem at all. I phoned the midwife when my contractions were about every 5 minutes, and I was having to stop and breathe through them. She arrived at about half past 10 (when Chris was halfway though shaving his head), and on examination at quarter to 11, I was 4-5 cm dilated.

My labour progressed gently, the contractions slowly getting longer, stronger, and closer together. I spent most of the time kneeling, with my knees wide apart, and pillows under my thighs. That way I could lean against Chris (sitting on the chair) and really relax into the contractions.

At 1.30 am, Lesley (the mw) asked me if I wanted any gas and air. I'd not a chance to try this in my first labour, so I was curious! I had it for a few (4?) contractions, and it certainly did make them less 'painful', and relaxed me so much I dropped off between contractions. I didn't really like it - it felt to me like my contractions had suddenly got much less effective, which seemed rather worrying to me, and I didn't like being so drowsy, so I stopped using it.

At 2.10 am, she did another VE. She asked me if it was OK to break my waters if I was nearly fully dilated, and I said yes, but as it turned out I was only 6-7 cm dilated. That seemed fine to me, I was perfectly happy to do another couple of hours of this labour. It was so gentle, completely unlike the intense time I had had with Poppy. Now I understood how women could have conversations whilst in labour!

So, I put my pyjama trousers back on, due to sudden shivers, and settled down again to prepare for seeing this baby at 4 or 5 am. But! Suddenly at 2.20 am my waters burst - well, kind of exploded - my mum swears she heard the POP from the kitchen! Wow. And then I threw up. (It took me a long time before I could eat Chinese seaweed again ;-) ) The second midwife was phoned now.

Lesley said that I might want to push when the next contraction came, and sure enough, I did. Luckily it was quite a mild urge. When I told her that yes, I did want to, Chris asked if I wanted to take my trousers off? "Not at this moment" I managed to reply through gritted teeth ...

I got my trousers off, and Lesley suggested to Chris he get a damp flannel. I think this might have been for wiping my brow, but instead he tried to shove it between my teeth as I buried my head in his lap when the next contraction hit! After 3 of these incredible expulsive contractions, where I pushed as hard as I could with my entire body because nothing else was possible, her head - which I could feel, barrelling down - appeared. After a couple of moments (i.e. no idea how long!) Lesley suggested I try pushing, as another contraction hadn't yet come. I pushed, and the body slid out. It was 2.30 am.

I couldn't see the baby, because it was behind me, and it took what seemed like ages for the midwife to pass her under my leg and for me to sit down. Another girl, as we'd expected, who looked very much like Poppy, except about twice the size! And with this enormous round head. I felt like I must be in tatters, but when Lesley checked, I just had a graze. I had the jab, and my placenta came out, no problem.

She latched on pretty much straightaway, and when I looked at her I felt fine :-) Whenever I looked away, the shock and pain hit me :-( So I just stared at her, and thought how lovely she was. Poppy made a bit of noise at this point, and we nearly got her down, but she went back to sleep by herself. The baby was weighed, confirming that yes, she was a big girl, and dressed. The second midwife turned up at some point, said hello, and went away again.

By 5 o'clock we were all (except for Lesley I expect!) back in bed. Lovely. Poppy woke up at 7 am, said "baby" when she saw the baby, looked at my stomach and said "gone" (flattering, if not entirely true, but reassuring that at least some of what we'd been telling her about babies had gone in), and then proceeded to tell her new sister about the important things in life - i.e. Teletubbies.

 - Alison