It’s true what they say, don’t listen to other people’s labour stories because everyone’s is different. I had a labour plan in place which didn’t get stuck too (wasn’t my choice). I’d planned to drive myself to hospital (what was I thinking?) and have a water birth. I’ve always suffered with really bad period pains so thought I’d cope really well having a water birth. That way I wasn’t filled with drugs and was just on gas and air.

Nothing went to plan. Throughout my pregnancy I’d said I was going into labour early but towards the end I began to think I was going over. A week before my due date I went for a long walk with my dog in the woods with my ex-partner. I basically cried the whole walk as they kept walking off and leaving me (I felt like I was about to shit a brick). I got home and the pain eased so I planned to visit my Nan as I didn’t know when I’d see her with my due date coming round. I popped round and received lovely gifts and decided to head home for a bath. My Nan is that small when she hugged me, she hugged my bump (cute ey).

I got home and thought I’d put the babies gifts away before getting in the bath as I knew I wouldn’t get chance during the week. I had my bump hanging out as I was pacing between my room and the babies room, I felt relaxed and quite in my comfort zone with what I thought were Braxton hix (little did I know I was nesting whilst contracting). The babies dad told me I was going into labour that night however I didn’t believe him as my bump was still high up.

I had my bath (not that my bump fitted in it by this point) hopped into bed and was watching crap TV. I’d downloaded an app to time contractions however I decided to time my “Braxton hix”. It was kind of like a game, I found it quite fun! Babies dad didn’t find it so fun when I shown him. I told him to chill and go to sleep. I’d managed to get a couple of hours and then all of a sudden I couldn’t get comfy anywhere, I even tried to sleep bouncing on my birthing ball. I decided to have a little walk around the house and ended up waking everyone up.

I jumped back in the bath and asked for my hot water bottle to be sorted for when I got out. Dan called the labour suite to ask if it sounded like I was in labour (he was in major panic mode however laid back Larry over here hadn’t repacked her hospital bag properly. It was all over the room!). The hospital said I sounded like I was okay and dealing with it all really well and just to get in the bath when needed.

An hour later, I was getting beyond tired. I’d spilt my drink everywhere, I was trying to walk to ease these pains off, I was beyond restless. Dan said I needed to go into hospital but I refused but he rang back and said he thinks I’m in labour. They wanted to speak to me, then the biggest pain came ever (yet she expected me to answer questions, soz love just give me a minute please).

They said I could go in and get checked over just to relax Dan and so I could have some pain relief other than paracetamol as that gives me terrible headaches. He rang my mum at 3 in the morning in major panic. I was in more of a panic that I realised my boobs were now full of milk and were not gonna fit in my original bikini top and I hadn’t bought another. FAB! Only me. I chucked all kinds in my suit case, yet forgot my lucozade.

I’d walked downstairs and was on all fours with my dog next to me and I could hear my mums voice in the background telling me to run to the car when the pain eased. Run? I can’t run without being pregnant never mind being pregnant – but I did. I’m so glad it was the early hours as traffic lights were not my friend. My feet were up on the dashboard and my mum was telling me these pains are getting really close (not what I wanted to hear at the time).

As my mum dropped me at the labour suite to go and park the car, I walked into the door as you had to press a doorbell. Dan was in panic mode behind me and was pressing all the buttons possible. I walked through the door for them to ask me if I’ve come to deliver my baby. They got a bit of a serious response and I was chucked straight into a room.

It’s fair to say I am not a fan of internals and the poor midwife got a swift kick and told to get out of me. I wasn’t allowed home, I was officially in labour. I didn’t know how to take it, I wasn’t prepared. My temperature was high (the hospital was like 30 degrees even though it was December) so my water birth had to be forgotten about. After an argument over pain relief, I said I’d have diamorphine (huge mistake).

But it got me in my own labour room with gas and air. It had so many cupboards I could rummage through, a telly that had a 1000 buttons and a window!! I still had to request a fan to which I was not sharing with anyone. I found the gas and air beyond helpful to regulate my breathing and was perfect to bite. It also made us all very happy, that happy we were singing Christmas songs. I remember laughing to myself about literally nothing not believing I was in labour.

Okay so the diamorphine made me majorly sick, killed my contractions so I had to wait for it to wear off. My waters still hadn’t gone, only for me to tell my mum I was gonna be sick and ended up laughing and crying all in one because I thought I’d wet myself and it wouldn’t stop. The feeling was horrible! My waters had gone – mixed emotions at its finest.

Well I was left to my own devises, my mum had gone to the shop to get me lip balm as I’d forgotten mine and I thought it was hilarious that when I pouted I got more. The hours passed and I needed to push, my mum was telling me I couldn’t but I knew I had too. He was on his way and I had no time to think about it, let alone listen to anyone. The midwife could see his head and told me to continue to push but to listen very carefully (I never but I followed what my body told me to do). “And on the next push he will be here” umm sorry what? just like that? how? he felt like he was stuck 20 minutes ago and I had a melt down I couldn’t do it so how was that possible.

He arrived with no cry, just twitching his eyebrows. Still no cry but huge eyes opened as he was placed on my chest. I couldn’t believe it, what was I supposed to do now? oh yeah give birth to the placenta (it did not look like what I’d expected it to look like). I was a bit stunned, I didn’t know what to do. My legs were up in stirrups whilst I was being stitched (more painful than birth) What happens next I thought? I’m covered in all kinds of crap, the world and his son has had a nosy of what was my private parts and now I’m left with a little human on my chest. What do I do with him?

I was sent for a shower and I remember asking well what do I do with him? leave him here? Luckily my mum stayed to dress him in his first outfit. Before I knew it I was eating some toast whilst they sorted a bed on the labour ward for me. So that was it? How can it happen so fast? Films really do over execrate when somebody gives birth. I don’t see them walking round with the worlds biggest pad afterwards, they’re always in pretty little dresses.

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