I still love reading birth stories, so it's only fair to give back now I have my own story. This is a long one also a TMI warning: but you are reading a birth story, right?!

Prelude

I had a very eventful pregnancy with morning sickness that caused me to vomit 10+ times a day up until 16 weeks. In hindsight I probably had hyperemesis gravium but battled on and spent a lot of the time at home in tears. I couldn’t stand to be in the kitchen let alone cook or eat. Once that settled, I developed Gestational Diabetes. It came as a big shock as I have always eaten well and exercised regularly but as I learnt it can have nothing to do with any of that.
In terms of a birth plan- all I wanted was to deliver a baby safely.

Thursday, 9th July

At my regular weekly appointment, I was offered stretch and sweep. I accepted and had one by a student midwife (very gentle and tentative) and then another by the Ob (ouch).

Friday, 10th July

Had my show. I googled it to make sure that was what it was. Yeah, that was a mistake (seriously, gross. But it did confirm that yes, it was my show). I progressively lost pieces in no rhyme or reason but usually in the morning when I wiped. Some days I lost big bits, some days there was none at all.

Wednesday, 15th July

Contractions every half an hour through the night, enough to wake me up but was able to drift back to sleep between them.

Thursday, 16th July

When I went to the loo first thing, there was bright red blood this time when I wiped. No mucus. Cue panic. Rang the maternity ward and went in to the hospital as suggested to be checked out.
A midwife did an internal exam and said I was about a fingertip dilated and she couldn’t see or feel my waters. She also did a test to check if they had broken which came back positive. I was told that the test gave a lot of false positives, especially where there was blood. No one really made a definitive conclusion either way but after being reviewed by a midwife and then an OB (and about 3 hours later), I was given the all clear to go home. What a relief.
Contractions that were still coming every 30 minutes start to ramp up to around 15 minutes at around 2pm. I download a contraction timer as they gradually increased in frequency. I couldn’t talk through them, and was bouncing on my yoga ball to get through them. At around 7pm, the contractions were around 4 mins apart. We headed to the hospital as we live about 25 mins away.
As soon as we get to the hospital, the contractions stop. As in, I had 3 in the 2 hours we were there. Ridiculous. The midwives say that this is quite common, that a change of scenery into the hospital setting can make them stop. I find this a bit odd, as I actually work at the hospital so am comfortable in that environment but whatever. They check me anyway and I am 2cm. Obviously, I am sent home and told to return when contractions are 5 minutes apart.
We get back home at around 9pm and the contractions return. They are between 15 and 3 minutes apart but nothing consistent, I continue to bounce through them on my ball and time them on my app to keep track. They are extremely painful- I can’t eat, sleep or get comfortable. I stay on the ball as it’s the only thing I can bear. My husband goes to sleep on the lounge next to me and snores ridiculously loud. I send him to bed, then cry because I desperately want to sleep too. I am freezing cold and hot and hungry and sick and frustrated and so, so tired.

Friday, 17th July

3:30am I wake my husband and tell him that I can’t take it anymore, I’m exhausted and can’t stand the pain. We ring the hospital and tell them we’re coming in despite my contraction inconsistency.
At the hospital I’m checked and I’m at a 4 and now that I have dilated more, they can see that my waters haven’t actually broken. Thank goodness, I think, 4- I won’t be sent home again.
They are really busy in birthing (they can only accommodate 3 women at a time) and I’m in a consult type room waiting for them to see me in between the others already there. There is talk of pain meds and them breaking my waters to get things moving. Hours pass while we wait. The only pain med I don’t want- Morphine- is offered to me. I am exhausted, and after explaining why I don’t want morphine to the midwife looking after me (it makes me super spacy and physically sick) I accept it. I can only assume at this point, that I’m triaged out of birthing because my waters are still intact. The midwife comes back in and offers me two options- to continue to labour in the hospital but on their maternity ward, in a shared room with a woman who has already had her baby (and is with her in the room too) or go home. With the morphine on board, I go back home again.
12pm We get home again for the third time and because of the morphine I am relaxed enough I think I might be able to get some sleep (I haven’t slept at all the night before and a pretty rotten sleep the night before that). My mum and Dad both staying across the road, are over so my husband decides to go for a surf while I sleep. His logic: surely that his absence and Murphy’s Law will get things moving. Whatever, I am too tired to care.
12:30pm I get up from a 15 minute snooze to go to the bathroom. While on the loo, there is a pop and a gush. My waters have broken. Thank goodness that didn’t happen while I was in bed because (TMI) there was so much blood and muck also in there that we would have needed to buy a new mattress. Ew.
I called out to my Mum. She put lunch in the oven and then ran down to the beach to wave my husband out of the water while I tidied up and got organised. Mum said she’s never seen my husband move faster. My husband says he had massive street cred with the guys he was surfing with (fancy surfing when your wife is in labour!).
I rang the hospital to tell them that my waters have broken and they tell me to head straight in. I tell them that I’ll have some lunch first and then make our way in. The midwife was a bit shocked. I was a bit over the whole thing. I ate lunch, threw it back up and then headed to the hospital. Oh well, I tried.
2pm I am checked again and still only 4cm but we are taken into a birthing suite. We not going home this time- we’re finally going to have a baby!
Birthing is still very busy. I figure there must be 2 other women birthing as we are put in the small room that we were told never gets used during our baby classes. The midwives on come and quickly introduce themselves but then leave us alone for what feels like an eternity. I ask for a birthing ball as there is none in the room. I writhe around under the shower until one is brought in
At around 4pm I am well and truly over it. I haven’t seen the midwives again and I can’t do it anymore. I am so tired now, how am I going to have the energy to push? Knowing an epidural can take a while to get and administer, I send my husband out to find someone to ask to get me one.
At around 5pm, the midwives come and tell me the anaesthetist is in surgery and will be a while. They offer me morphine or gas in the meantime. I decline and wait for the epi. Again we are left alone.
I called my friend in between contractions who I was going to have in with me for the birth. We work together but she is considering becoming a midwife. Long story short, I was over everything and couldn’t fathom having someone else in the room- I was far too tired and beyond cranky. I hadn’t told her prior to that we’d been to and from the hospital 4 times but thankfully, she understood.
Just before 6pm the midwives return. I’d say that one of the other women had had their baby because they stayed in the room a lot longer from then. I was checked again and this time I was 6cm! I was happy with myself for making it that far without any intervention.
At around 6pm the anaesthetist came with my epi. I have never been so relieved in all my life, and omg- such a babe. It was quick and only stung a little from the local anaesthetic. He waited until a contraction finished and administered it in the gap. I just told him when another one was coming and he stopped what he was doing while I tried to stay as still as humanly possible. How sweet and immediate the relief! I went from a pain score of 10/10 to 0/10 in 5 minutes- I couldn’t feel a thing! My husband was amazed, he had no idea what the epidural could do and kept asking me “so you can’t feel anything?”, “but you can move your legs?”… He was like a kid, all curiosity and wonder- it was pretty funny.
At 7pm, there was a change in shift. I meet C, who was like an angel. I must have been the only one left in birthing at that point because she was so attentive and present for the majority of the time. She went above and beyond and was so warm, comforting and helpful. I can’t sing her praises enough. She even changed all the wires and cables that were attached to me all to the opposite side that my husband was on so he didn’t have to move every time she needed to check me!
At 8pm I was checked again, still 6cm. My labour had stalled so it was decided to start syntocin (Australian picton equivalent). I asked C if it was the epi that stalled me, she said she doubted it, it probably would have happened anyhow and that a lot of first time mums stop progressing at 6cm. I would have been devastated if I’d have continued to labour naturally without progressing and didn’t have the epi on board. I love modern medicine. She said she’d check me again at 12pm.
At that point, both of us decided to get some rest- it had been a long 48 hours already. We both catnapped from 8-12pm with C checking my stats every hour. My blood sugars were slightly elevated (is it any wonder, I hadn’t kept anything down for at least 24 hours!) but for some reason or another, I didn’t end up with the glucose/insulin drip.
At 12pm C said she had good news and bad news. Bad news was that my contractions were coming irregularly and because of that, the syntocin was turned up quite high. She was potentially going to have to call the Ob to turn it up even higher because it was unlikely I was progressing with the contraction pattern. Good news was that when she checked me, I was in fact at 10cm!!

Saturday, 18th July

We waited another hour for baby to labour down and at 1am it was pushing time.
C was a brilliant coach and so encouraging and empowering. She made me feel like I could do anything and really helped me to push correctly and efficiently. My husband was amazing too, counting me into each contraction and letting me know if I could fit another push into the set (I was getting in 3-4 each contraction). I couldn’t see the CTG machine and the epi was still working so it was wonderful to be guided by voices, keep my eyes closed and just concentrate on the push rather than having to look at the machine.
I don’t know what time it was but C called the OB, S into the room. S asked me to push as I was for a set of contractions and then told me to change positions- on my knees with my back to her for another set. That didn’t work either so she put me on my back again, lowered the bed and put my legs up in the stirrups. The epi started beeping and I was told that it had run out but I would be fine. Thankfully, I didn’t feel any pain.
S asked if DH wanted to see her being born and there was no hesitation as he went down to the business end, completely enthralled. I pushed through another set of contractions as I watched S get the forceps. S was wearing safety goggles and a blue surgical gown. When I felt S insert the forceps into me (as a sensation, not pain) I looked at her again and her glasses were covered in a spray of blood. I again thanked my lucky stars for the epi. Another set of contractions and I felt her head come out as pressure accompanied with the dragging of the cold forceps. S told me not to push anymore and I tried desperately to follow her instruction while I felt H’s body slip out of me.
3:23am H was born. 7 pounds and 47cm long perfection. We immediately had skin to skin. While both DH and I were in awe of her and her tiny little body, I couldn’t help but notice the activity still going on down there. Nothing was said but I could feel the sensation of stitches being made. I had a sinking feeling but was quickly distracted again by glorious C who was holding up my placenta up over a bowl like a trophy.
She told DH to get some photos because it was one of the best looking placenta she had seen in years. I couldn’t help but giggle in ridiculous disbelief. She asked him what we were going to do with it and he asked about how people could eat it. She explained all of the options- not just eating it, and when she got to how some take it home to plant under a tree my gardener husband had a smile from ear to ear. He left the hospital later that morning much to my disgust with it in double garbage bag wrapping. But that’s another story for another day.
While all of this was going on, I tried to feed H but she wouldn’t latch. Despite that, her blood sugars were wonderful- 4.7 (needs to be over 2.5) and she was able to stay with us and not go to special care.
She was taken away then briefly for measurements and tests and given colostrum from a syringe that I had harvested prior to keep her levels up instead. I had a shower and got ready to go back to the ward.
All I can say is holy Dexter blood loss. I only lost 300mls of blood during birth, which apparently is considered very low. But oh my goodness, while I was in the shower it was a blood bath. I wasn’t prepared for it! I put on those crazy massive granny pants for incontinence and fresh clothes, took one step and there was blood gushing down both of my legs, into my socks and onto the floor. Time again, I would still use the incontinence mesh undies WITH a maternity pad because that would have kept everything contained, plus then you can just change out the pad (which I needed to do A LOT during those first couple of hours).

Recovery

In terms of H, she is thriving. She’s a happy, contented baby and I can take her anywhere. She’s feeding like a champion and we’ve had no real troubles breastfeeding. We still use a nipple shield for every feed because I have quite flat nipples (there you go eh? the things you learn) but otherwise it is good. She is settled at night and while she doesn’t “sleep through” she only wakes to be fed and then goes back down without a fuss. I get enough sleep 
I am now 4 months PP and while I feel like I had a massive high rather than a low emotionally, I am having a pretty difficult physical recovery. I wasn’t able to sit at all for 2 days after her birth, tore stitches about a week PP, was on the lounge resting for about 2 and ½ months because of two very painful granulomas which resolved with 2 sessions of silver nitrate treatment, oestrogen cream and massage. Sex was completely out of the question up until a month ago and although we have DTD 5 times since then, 4 of those times I’ve had to stop because of the pain. Only once have I been able to tolerate it enough that DH has ahem finished, but it was awfully painful. It’s been hard on our relationship we can’t be intimate like we used to be while we try and figure out this parenting gig but we’re working on it. I’m still seeing a gynaecologist who says that I may have a trapped nerve where my stitches have now healed but only time, patience and vaginal dilators will tell. Otherwise there will be more surgery.

But all said and done, would I do it all again for her?
Absolutely.