Baby No. 3’s C Section Story…

So for anyone following you will know I spent just over a week in the Coombe for Baby no. 3.

Certainly wasn’t my plan. Obviously my plan was to have a fast painless labour and be home within 24 hours!!! How and ever.

So I went to the Coombe at 38 weeks expecting to be induced or to have my waters broken because with Gestational Diabetes they don’t let you go over 38/39 weeks.

(If you missed it here’s the update I wrote from inside the prison walls of the Coombe on my day of sentencing.)

Naturally I was devastated to be told that – once again – this baby was lying oblique / in an unstable lie. (Exactly the same thing happened with Baby. No. 2 and I also spent a week in the Coombe then..)

So breaking my waters was ruled out because the cord could go down ahead of the baby, and the Doctor was not happy to induce me incase my previous c section scar ruptured.

Also, I couldn’t go home.

The kicker for me was that it was a Wednesday, and my Team’s “day for surgeries” was Monday, so I couldn’t get the c section ’til then.

So I spent the next 5 days pacing the pre-labour ward, writing bizarre posts on my facebook page like the one below, crying in the toilet or in to my pillow, having the chats with other patients, midwives and tea ladies, drinking lots of tea and anticipating meal times, missing my kids and generally going a little bit stir crazy while people were in labour all around me.

Confessions of an Irish Mammy

Saturday. Day 4,697 in the Coombe. (Okay day 4) I’m getting used to living here now and know the drill when the midwives come round for check ups. I’m only short of checking the baby’s heart beat and…

The day before the c section was possibly the longest day of my life. I swear the clock actually stopped!

I was “lucky” in that because I was in so long I was relatively early on the list for surgeries that morning. All I hoped was that some bastard wouldn’t mess it up on me needing an emergency c section and shoving me down the list.

Daddy came in for 8.30am and we waited…..

I was called at about 10.30ish. Not too bad. You have to fast from midnight for a c section and can’t even have water after about 6am so a long wait would be fairly torturous.

I put on my trendy surgery gown and stylish surgery pants, took the little shot of medication they gave me and shuffled down the hall.

You’re put in to a little waiting room and the nurse takes your details and you wait again.

My nerves kicked in at this point. Having had a c section before I knew what was about to go down, but it was 7 years ago so and I think I may have forgotten the tough parts.

You’re called in to surgery and Daddy is told to put on a gown and cap and wait outside. He doesn’t get called in until they’re about to pull the baby out.

It’s a little scary then when you’re on your own in there. The nurses and doctors were all so nice, friendly and reassuring and kept chatting away to me. I was calm on the outside.

Then it’s time for the spinal epidural. That’s probably the toughest part. Sitting there bent over while the baby moves around but having to stay perfectly still.

It’s fairly uncomfortable and takes a while to do. I won’t lie. It’s sore. Wether it’s just what they do or wether she could see I wasn’t enjoying the experience I don’t know, but a nurse held my hand while it was put in which was a huge comfort.

Then that lovely warm feeling goes down your legs and you’re placed lying down on the table.

You eventually lose feeling from the chest down so you just feel your head and arms. You get a drip put in your arm and a doctor will regularly inject something for your blood pressure throughout the whole thing.

Something – I’m not sure what medication – makes you itchy! I spent a good portion of the surgery scratching my face!

They’ll spray you with a cold spray from the chest down, and you tell them when you can’t feel it anymore. A small part of me was terrified incase I messed that up somehow and felt the procedure! Obviously that didn’t happen..

At this point I was dying for my Husband to be brought in so I wouldn’t be on my own. Lovely and all as all the doctors were I needed him there with me.

Wasn’t long before he was beside me, scratching my itchy nose at my request.

You feel a good bit of tugging which is a little uncomfortable but in no way painful, and then low and behold they hold up the baby to show you.

They simply said “Can you see what it is?” and there he was, screaming away with his little tinkle confirming his gender. Our third son. Born at 11.40am.

They took him off and cleaned him up. Daddy could see them checking him over and checking his reflexes. He was wrapped up and placed on my chest for a while.

Then the nurse took Daddy and baby to recovery while I was closed up.

I was told it was a nice neat surgery, and was even complimented on my insides and that “everything looked good.” Hey, a compliment is a compliment!

Then you’re lifted on to a bed and wheeled in to recovery where you stay for an hour or so while they monitor you, and you get baby hugs.

I got the all clear after an hour to be wheeled up to the ward, and learned that you have to wait 6 hours after a c section to get that all coveted tea and toast. Bit of a slap to the face now.

The upside to a c section if you want to see a sliver of silver lining, is that you can’t really do anything until the feeling comes back in your legs and stomach, so the nurses help with nappy changes.

Not the end of the world to miss out on those first couple of thick gooey black poos if I’m honest!! 😉

I finally got my tea and toast that evening and It. Was. Heavenly. I inhaled it. There’s nothing like it after having a baby!

That night I took my first steps again, a bit like bambi, and the nurse slowly walked me in to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth. (Okay, also so she could empty my catheter bag!)

The bag is taken off the next day. You’re told you might not fully “feel the sensation to go” and I was fairly bricking it that I might wet myself in bed if I’m honest, but thankfully I didn’t! Like a toddler potty training, I just walked to the loo every now and again to check. Glamour!

The day after the c section is probably the worst of it. You’re quite sore, you’re on a concoction of medication that make you feel a bit (more) tired and loopy, and you have a baby that needs fed every few hours.

You feel a bit of a pain in the ass doing it, but it’s still not easy to sit yourself up and pick the baby up to feed so ringing the alarm to call a nurse to help is a necessity and they’re happy to do it.

By Wednesday, 2 days after the c section, I was desperate to go home. There was a couple of screamers in my ward so even when my baby was sleeping, or there wasn’t a nurse checking my blood pressure or sticking needles in my legs to stop any blood clots, it was other babies keeping me up and at this stage I was feeling the walls close in on me and was out of my mind with exhaustion.

There was one more thing though. The doctor said I wouldn’t be allowed home until I’d had a “movement”…… Shit. (Literally). I was desperate. I didn’t want anything stopping me from going home. Never had so many poo emojis been used than there was that day between me and my husband!

A handsome enough young doctor gave me something to “help get things going” and his parting words to me were “best of luck with your bowels.” 🙈

It happened. It’s scary. Slightly traumatising. You will be absolutely terrified to push. But you live through it and the relief is immense. 😂

Apparently, you can go home after 2 days if you’re within the right catchment, which I’m not, so I had to go with the standard 72 hour / 3 days after to go home. It was probably for the best to have that last day of full on medication at my disposal anyway.

Thursday morning, I’m not joking, 6am I was up, curtain open, ready to pounce on the first midwife that came near me.

The first words out of my mouth were what time could I go home.

My persistent asking worked and they must have been dying to get rid of me because I had seen the doctor, got my prescription and was signed out at 9.20am.

If I could have sprinted out I would.

The next few days were a little uncomfortable but the medication they put me on worked well so I just had to keep on top of that.

Alex is now 9 days old. I’ve just finished all the pills and am just on paracetamol now. I feel relatively well. Not swinging from the lights obviously, but comfortable enough. It takes time. I’m probably slightly frustrated that I have to take time to recover and still not 100% myself. I’m tired and I want to be full of energy and back to normal and out and about again. I just need my body to catch up with my head!!

We’re good. He’s good. It’s already like he was always here and his big brothers absolutely adore him.

I now have 3 kids. My tea will always be cold.

1 Comment

  1. tric kearney

    February 14, 2018 at 9:42 pm

    Huge congratulations. Enjoy these early days getting to know your young son and I hope you recover quickly.

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