Haz Baby.

Baby Samuel was born on Sunday 17th May at 9.45am, weighed 7lb 14oz and was Apgar 9. Kicking, screaming, looking around and a lovely pink colour!

We had an eventful delivery in the end, after I started latent labour on Friday night (the 15th May - the day I thought was my due date incidentally all those months ago, before the midwives revised it to the 13th) This is a cruel punnishment, with irregular contractions and very little progress. I found it too painful to sleep through and so ended up having a sleepless night in the bath trying to cope. After a swift trip to AMU on Saturday morning for some codine, I managed a restless few hours sleep until about 11am. This was to be the last 4hour sleep I had for several days. I didn't know until later how very grateful I would be for it.

My labour finally established around 6pm on Saturday and I headed to AMU for some water therapy to control the pain. Also some 'gas and air' which was too strange for me at first, but was a total necissity by the end. It was another couple of hours before I was in medical Established Labour, which was combined with some false urges to push. These are not fun, and very tiring. In the end I had to get out of the pool for an examination, some pethadine and the hope of some respite so I could regain some energy. Two mini catheters, a mini enema and a lot of lucozade and I'm basically empty of everything except the baby. Which is when the back pain kicks in. Pethadine is a great drug and dulled my contractions to managable, until this happened. It required pethadine, gas and air and two people massaging various bits of me to get through each contraction. Then there was a mad rush to relax and try and regain some energy for the next one. At this point I've not slept properly (except for my drug induced rest this morning) since Wednesday night - involving another story about suspected pre-eclampsia which will wait for another time.

The urges to push start up so after a quick exam we find out that these are, again, false and I should try not to push. This turns out to be even more exhausting than pushing fruitlessly.

Then a glimmer of hope, I'm fully dilated! So off we go with a quick tutorial on the most efficient way to push and the next contraction should start the show... Only it doesn't, nor the next, the next.... I'm getting nowhere fast and I just want to go home. After a second opinion, (Now there's me, Adam, Midwife 1 and 2 in the room) it turns out there is a part of my cervix yet to relax fully, so I should breathe through the contractions again. Arrrggggghhhh. Only I'm too tired to arrgggghhh, so I nod weakly and give it my best shot. It's about 5am.

At some point the midwives decide I might be better on a higher bed so they can help me more. So I down some more lucozade and wander through to the other room. We have no success there either. Around 7am a decision is made to break the stalemate. I'll have to go to Ninewells. A phone call is made. I should try not to push to conserve my energy (!) The worry is this, I'm ready to push but am getting dehydrated and running out of energy fast. I don't want to be stuck in Arbroath with a baby half out because I pass out. Blue lights all the way to Ninewells.

By the way, my pethadine has worn off. I'm too close to delivery to have more so I'm down to gas and air. Contractions every 4mins or so and about 15 roundabouts. I'll let you imagine it. My feeling at this point was a hope for blissful unconciousness.

At Ninewells, we are deposited in a huge room and Midwife 3 from AMU who was dispatched to accompany me to the hospital waits to hand me over to the team at the labour suite. Then suddenly there are about 12 doctors, two midwives from Ninewells, Adam, me and Button and the room seems less huge. I need fluids, so there are several attempts to get a canula into me (I have terrible veins, so I apologise to the doctor that was left with this task, and consider my bruises to be proud war wounds!) Upon examination, there is a plan that I should try and push again for half an hour before they intervene. I am taught a new way to push. I think I get a little way. Perhaps as far as getting the top of Baby's head actually into my cervix. So they attach a little heart monitor to the top of Button's head.

It's about 8am when things change. Button is getting distressed. Well Mummy has made a bit of a pigs ear of things so far, he's been a very patient boy and I'd be getting frustrated if I was pulling my weight but the other half of the team was letting the side down! HFFD (a type of forceps delivery) is decided on. Local anesthetic and surgery greens now adorn my lower half and the bottom of the bed dissapears. Forceps delivery is painful in a hot, stretching way. It doesn't feel very natural and one still has to push just as hard. But it is a blessedly short process - once everything was in place, I was only three or four pushes away from meeting little Button.

Grey cut the cord and the little man was dumped on my chest. My first though upon seeing these beautiful blue eyes wide open and innocent in a face that looks just like his father. Totally worth it.

Stiching me up took some time. Every pin prick caused a new bleed and I was swelling up fast. Adam fed Samuel (we named him instantly) while the doctor was putting me back together. After some tea and toast (very Brittish) we moved to observation for a few hours and then up to the recovery ward for involved deliveries. Samuel met his Granny JoJo, Grandpa Malcom and Grandmother Norma. Mummy failed to sleep despite having been desperate to for almost 20 hours.

Then on Monday, I got sick. While my BP had come back towards normal, I was tachycardic - my resting pulse was a massive 133bpm. It turns out that the 500mls of blood I lost during labour plus a depletion in my iron reserves had left me with a blood count of 7.8 (I believe around 13 is more normal) They don't do blood transfusions any more, there is a wonderful new IV drug called Venflon that basically tells your body to use all the iron it gets to make red blood cells. Two doses are required 24hours apart. The first of which is administered in Observation. It's around 2am by the time I get back to the ward and to bed.

All this means that I'm not getting home until Wednesday at the earliest. Which turns out to be for the best, since Samuel develops jaundice and needs a blood test. It comes back within normal limits, so we treat him with lots of sunlight and plenty of cuddles.

Samuel is 8 days old today. His jaundice cleared up really quickly, but he is a little constipated. It's warm here just now so we are giving him a little extra water to help clear that up. He's a wonderful little baby who cries just enough of the time that I have plenty of excuses to pick him up for cuddles. We are trying to extend the gaps between his feeds from 2.5 hours up to nearer 3.5 just now. This is difficult to say the least.

I am still very anemic. I've only stumbled on the stairs once - there was no real harm done except I burned my face with hot tea. I'm exhausted and everything is taking longer to heal because my reserves are so low. Dad and Adam got me to Morrisions on Saturday and then I spent all of Sunday sleeping (well, sleeping until Daddy needed a hand with Samuel) which was rest I really needed.

I'm feeling much better today, but I have to remember to sleep when Samuel is settled during the day. I still have a lot of recovery to do. Yesterday my heart rate was 87bpm resting, which is better so recovery won't be far off.

You'll forgive me for wanting to hold off the celebrations and showing off for a few weeks. After all we've been through it's a celebration enough for me to be at home with my beautiful baby boy.