So, Monday morning my waters broke. After being checked at my maternity assessment unit in the small midwife led unit of my local hospital, I was sent home to progress.
My pregnancy had been ideal! No fuss with me or baby, and labouring at home seemed to be flying over. By half twelve I couldn't take it anymore, and we phoned up to head back to hospital. I noticed just before we set out baby poop in my waters and knew the midwife unit didn't deal with that, so we called them back up, and then rang my second choice hospital to inform them of my arrival.
We got there about one, they were very busy and didn't see us properly until two. I was put on the monitor and after twenty minutes they were content James was a happy chappy and I had (my first ever-yikes) an internal exam. Four cm, I had gas and air and later in the evening, diamorphine to help take the edge off.
Alas, not everything was as smooth sailing as my pregnancy. I required the ventouse cup to help with delivery as my contractions had been so intense they were concerned I couldn't feel the need to push properly. He was delivered safely at 3.20 Tuesday 28th may weighing 8 pound 3 oz.
I had one little hug off him, and then the next thing I know I'm being rushed to theatre. Six hours later I'm told I had a massive blood loss and I nearly died. They were struggling so much to get my uterus to contract they almost gave me a histerectamy but instead pumped me with over eight units of blood to keep me going and I ended up with a ballon in my uterus to keep it inflated. Over the next few days they've been monitoring my blood loss and gradually deflating the ballon. Which happily came out yesterday.
Tomorrow I'll hopefully be let out. But it's been such a long week. After such a model pregnancy I really didn't think anything could go wrong right at the end. But I'm so grateful to everyone who helped save my life and bring James into the world safely.
Goodnight and everyone take care! Xx