The birth of the toddler terror was fairly dramatic, a category 1 emergency c section, something I was keen to avoid with baby #2. However it appears that Baby Boy had other ideas and wanted to come into this world in a dramatic fashion, much like his big brothers.
The story starts on Wednesday 15th April, I went to the hospital to have my anesthesiologist appointment in preparation for my original booked c section. My blood pressure was sky high 157/103. Thinking it was due to nerves as everything became real. Shrugging it off I headed to my weekly CTG appointment (where I managed to squeeze in writing 50 things that make me happy nothing like a bit of multi tasking) my blood pressure was a little erratic bouncing between 120/80 and 135/95.
Next thing I know my doctor is on the phone to the labour ward.
And I’m being sent back to hospital.
Frantic calls to the husband to collect the toddler from nursery and take him to a friends.
Sobbing from me. *I blame hormones* and the husband has to do a round trip with the toddler to the hospital so I can see him, which in hindsight was a silly thing because the toddler fell asleep and was grouchy when I gave him a kiss!
Then I head up to the labour ward to be admitted. And low dose induction with syntocinon began at 1pm.
The husband arrived frantic at 1:30 with all supplies. But I was put on NIL by mouth. I was starving. Through the whole process I kept telling the husband how much I wanted a Big Mac. (And FYI I still want one!)
And then it was a waiting game.
I got to 3cm fairly quickly and my waters were broken. We thought we were onto a winner here.
Then I stayed at 3cm for the next EIGHT hours.
Then moved to 4cm…
And finally SEVENTEEN hours after it all began, I hit the massive total of…
At this point my Dr was consulted and it was agreed that I would go down for a c-section that I’d given it a good shot. But baby was becoming unhappy. The syntoconin was causing me to hyper stimulate contractions. Added to all this baby was face presentation which meant he wasn’t pushing down properly on my cervix.
So I was very calmly got ready for surgery.
Shaved *how dignified*
Wheeled down, spinal increased, numbness checked. Husband allowed in with camera this time.
Gentle chatting and laughing in the operating theatre.
What myself and the husband didn’t know, was that the babies heart rate had taken a big dip so they needed to get him out. Everything felt so calm.
What my doctors and the surgical team didn’t know was that my uterus had ruptured.
Having been through this all before I was quite prepared for a quick slice and rummage in me to pull the baby out. But that didn’t happen.
Instead they opened me up, split my abdominal wall and prepared to open my uterus.
But there was baby boy looking at them.
I had torn my uterus in 3 places, a uterine rupture.
And to add to this, the baby was face presentation, awkward and a little stuck. It took 4 people to pull him out. I felt pressure on my ribcage as I was pushed and pulled. It felt like an eternity until he was free.
Then he was out.
And the anesthesiologist ruined our big reveal moment leaning over and shouting out
“Its a boy!”
And a boy he was, though very swollen lips and eyes from being the wrong way up and having the pressure of the contractions on his head. He was a little bit cone shaped as well.
I was lucky.
At one point they thought my bladder had been damaged. It wasn’t
I was really really lucky.
If we hadn’t have had surgery when we did, one or both of us might not have been here to tell the tale.
It was that close.
So as I’m up night feeding my beautiful boy, I am thankful we are both here *thankful and knackered* and both well. Not only that but my doctor did such an amazing job at stitching me up my recovery so far has been incredible.
He was able to let me go home a day earlier than planned, back to my boys at home, to begin our new life as a family of 4. Where I can start my future as a mum of boys and mud and football and wrestling *and sending them away with Daddy to golf while I go to the spa*. He also saved my uterus so that if we wanted there can be a next time. If there is a next time (the husband says no chance) there won’t be any pretence however, twice a c -section has saved my babies, I’d go straight for the elective.
My babies have declared me “too posh to push”
I’m ok with that.
I’m happy to be alive and have them both here with me.
Baby Boy, born Thursday 16th April 2015, 6:11am, Dubai, UAE weighing 6lbs3oz