Birth (part 1)
The story really begins on Thursday March 25th. I had an unavoidable hospital appointment for 11.30 the next morning, at which they were almost certain to insist on an induction - given that I was 2 1/2 weeks overdue - although I had every intention, if everything was still looking fine, of asking them to leave me until Monday. The Thursday was spent, as the entire previous week had been, employing 'natural' methods of induction: a session of fetal monitoring (oh your baby is strong. But sleeps a long time!) was followed by massage - because my stiff back was stopping the baby getting out - o-kyu* and a visit to the acupuncturist who this time left some small pins in my lower back and once again refused payment unless I had to have the baby in hospital. I was eventually allowed home for curry, pineapple and a good dose of castor oil, agreeing to meet So-san at the hospital the following morning. Miserable.
*
o-kyu = moxibustion; days earlier I had even in desperation submitted to 'direct o-kyu' (where the burning bit of twig is placed directly on the skin. 100 times. Like torture) and o-kyu to the top of my head which was apparently very hard and thus preventing the baby from coming out.
4 am Friday, I woke with contractions and a show. Yay! But still not sure whether I'd have to go to hospital or be allowed to the clinic. Went back to bed and dozed between contractions, coming about every 10 minutes, until the alarm went off and Cameron got up for work. Decided I should mention it to him...
We decided he should still go to work as planned, meeting me later at the hospital if I still had to go there or at the clinic if not. Around 8.30 I rang So-san and told her I thought she could cancel the hospital appointment! She was very excited and we agreed I'd pop along to the clinic around for a spot more monitoring and we'd see what he hospital doctor said. 10ish, there I was at the clinic with my 'small labour bag' (lots of towels; tupperware containers, use to be revealed; fashion magazines*; CDs;
lots of cash; clothes for Cameron; wash stuff). The monitor showed that yes, I was having contractions (I knew that!); the hospital doctor agreed that I didn't have to go in (and was apparently very excited and pleased for me) and the rest of the day is a blur. I know I was shown to my room; I know I looked at pictures in Vogue; I suspect there was more massage and o-kyu and brown rice and measurement of blood pressure but I really don't recall. I know I kept ringing Cameron (so perhaps he has a better idea of what I was doing) and telling him not to bother coming; I know the contractions weakened as it got dark; and I know I was eventually allowed to go home for the night. I was told to eat whatever I liked (pizza was good) and to come back in the morning or sooner if I needed to.
*
These did not actually appear on the list I'd been given.
Pizza, ice cream and Moulin Rouge while Cameron timed contractions (although it was actually very difficult to say when they started and finished). We went to bed but I was up again at 1.30 - I was curling up in pain every 10 minutes or so and I couldn't see the point of keeping Cameron awake - at least that way one of us might be functional in the morning. I spent the night pacing in circles around the kitchen, sipping hot water and listening, oddly, to Elgar, or leaning over the back of the sofa. At least in that position I could doze off between contractions. It was a long night. Early the next morning I got in the bath, where I did manage to get an hour's sleep.
The taxi ride back to the clinic was long and uncomfortable. Being terribly British I didn't want to make a fuss in front of the driver so I gripped Cameron's hand
very tightly and gritted my teeth through the contractions.
Most of Saturday is also a blur (you didn't want a detailed account, right?!). Late morning we were sent out for a walk; I have no idea what we did before that. I kept having to stop and lean on things - lampposts, trees, Cameron - while trying to be inconspicuous and not make a scene. I know I was sick and terribly embarrassed about it (thus not in 'real labour' yet). We made it to the local park where the cherry blossoms were absolutely at their peak. Pink blossom, blue sky - so beautiful. Up and down the paths, we found a small temple. Heading back to the clinic we passed the fabulous shop 'ferret world' and visited a bakery and a combini for chocolate milk and high-calorie snacks; past caring by this point I was bent double in the shops. Wonder what they thought? (Of course, being close to the clinic, they maybe have it all the time.)
Hours must have passed back up in my room, mostly kneeling on the floor so I could bend over onto the bed with contractions and insist (rather snappishly I expect) that Cameron push
HARD! on exactly the right bit of my back. So-san kept popping in and telling me how great it all was. Sometime in the afternoon we went downstairs to see the birthing pool, which was being shown to a prenatal class. Cameron got more from the demo than me as I was too busy leaning on a bookshelf in the next room trying not to groan and scare the pregnant ladies. Anyway, we decided to definitely try the pool (we like to make decisions at the last minute), an idea we'd been toying with for months.
Later on, a masseuse from next door came to see me. I think So-san was o-kyuing at the same time and this was the point all dignity left as I hauled myself to all fours with each contraction. 'Great', said So-san. 'Great' again, as I vomited profusely. Goodness knows how long after that was spent sitting on the loo but at some point my waters broke and the intensity, well, intensified. A good job the bathroom was largish as there were three of us in there - me, So-san telling me to open my eyes, relax my shoulders and BREATHE, and Cameron feeding me chocolate and bananas (eating on the toilet, yuk!).
Lisa at 4:12 pm
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