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Rated: 18+ · Other · Other · #1147142
A letter to my daughter on her birth.
19th November 2003 10 o'clock in the morning.

Today I have spent the day with my Grandma. She doesn't want to be a great-grandma - she says she was already great, so when you get here you are to call her 'Super-Gran.' I have had Braxton Hicks contractions all day, but I don't want to say anything to anybody because for the past two months every twinge feels like you are finally coming! Anyway, I have an appointment with my obstetrician Dr Tropiano, whom all the midwives call Dr Troppy. I figure we can wait until then.

For the past two months, everyone has said that you will be here any day. My mum (your Nanny) says daily that I can't get any bigger. Even Dr Troppy commented that I should "try and wait until thirty-five weeks." Like that is possible! Here we are, on the Wednesday four days before you are due.

So I see the doctor, and tell him about the Braxton Hicks. He examined me and said the words I have been so desperate to hear - "you are in early labour!"

I was admitted to the hospital during the final of Australian Idol (which I was very upset at missing, thank you) and your father and I tried to get settled. It was so hard to sleep with the hustle and bustle, let alone the excitement of everything starting to happen. We had a private room, and a nurse had put a fold out camp bed next to my bed. Your father and I spent most of the night cuddled on that bed, tense with anticipation.

20th November 2003 half past seven in the morning.

I was examined by the doctor and put on a drip to speed the labour up. He also decided to break my (our) waters.

Now, I don't know if you have heard about your waters breaking - feeling a trickle down your leg. It was nothing like that - poke, poke with a crochet hook (or so it looked) and then GUSH!! A couple of pints to start with, and then for the rest of the labour it felt like I was leaking everywhere (yuck!).

They hooked up the drip, and then we had to walk all over the hospital to get it all going. I think I know every inch of Peel Health Campus now. My good friend Faith came down for support to. We spent about two hours on the phone to our friends and family letting them know it was all happening.

I started to get really tired, and the contractions started getting quicker and stronger - and although they were not very painful, they were certainly enough to make me stop walking and just breathe.

We went back to the maternity ward and the midwives told me to sit in the shower for awhile. I told one of the midwives "my Braxton Hicks are getting a lot stronger now" and she laughed and said, "honey, they are contractions now!"

Oh well, I knew what I meant!

So your daddy and I went into the shower while Faith and my mum waited outside. We spent about an hour in the shower, but I just felt uncomfortable, the water was not helping. I went into the labour room and got settled on the bed where things started happening.

Your dad, my mum, Faith and Frank (the midwife{husband?} gave me sips of water with a straw, and told me how well we were doing. Things weren't progressing very quickly, and I felt really tired and sore - so I tried the gas and air as pain relief. But it just made me feel giddy and nauseous so I said no more after the first few puffs. Frank suggested some pethedine to try and relax my muscles, and I said yes. I kept saying "I'm not coping, I'm not coping." They all said I was , but I had the pethedine anyway. After the pethedine kicked in, Frank told me to go on all fours against a bean bag he placed on the bed. He told me that the gravity would work to help draw you out. I didn't want to move, I was so tired!

I don't remember a whole lot after that, the pethedine made me sleep in between contractions, which was scary, because I kept waking up in massive pain. The pethedine didn't take the pain away.

At one point Frank said, "was that a push?!" And I nodded, even though I really wasn't sure. I just wanted it to be over. They gave me more gas and air, but I was just chewing on the spout.

Your father tells me that Frank started to look very worried. Frank told me to turn back onto my back, and they put my legs in stirrups. Doctor Tropiano was called in to assist.

Your dad said that I was pushing and pushing, and nothing was happening. They could all see your head, but you wouldn't crown. That's when Doctor Troppy said I would need an episiotomy. After they cut me, I kept pushing, and still nothing was happening.

They suggested ventuose (vacuum) assistance, and brought out a big blue plunger-type thing. That kept slipping off your head - it would not maintain suction. Fank and Dr Troppy were saying that the blue ones were no good, then they brought in a skin coloured 'plunger' which seemed to work a lot better.

It hurt attaching it, which made your dad very angry, I think that he was frustrated that he couldn't stop my pain. Frank told me they would give me some more pethedine to futher relax my muscles.

My mum tells me that at this point Frank and Dr Troppy are looking very concerned. They now know that you should have been an emergency caesarian, but now it is too late. There is a constant trickle of blood deeply concerning everyone, but I am not aware of it.

Everyone is yelling "push, push!" and it hurts my legs in the stirrups (they are cramping and stiff). I push and push and suddenly your head pops out! Then you amaze everyone by completely rotating. I heard three "did you see that[s]?" Then a "yeah I saw that!"

A couple more pushes and you are out!! Doctor Tropiano says "it's a girl!"
Your father says "It's a girl, baby, it's Lucy!"

You are put on my stomach, all bloody and blue.

All I can think is "how did you fit in me?"

All I can feel is love.

1655 - 20/11/2003
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