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Elliott turned 8 months old two days ago and, only now, do I feel ready to reflect upon the experience enough to write up our birth story. I warn you, this story is pretty long but then so was the induction – 110 hours from start to finish!

My pregnancy was wonderful; no swelling, no sickness and I had never felt so beautiful in my life. I was diagnosed with GD at 26 weeks but it was no big deal. I controlled that diabetes like a boss - my blood sugars were perfect and my baby was a perfect size on every single scan. Despite that, at my 38 week appointment, my obstetrician told me that I would be induced four days later because "It's standard procedure for diabetic mothers". I should have argued it but I didn't. I trusted that she knew best.

Sunday morning (38+5), I arrived at the maternity unit. I was shown to my bed in a ward, which I shared with five other ladies.... Here in the UK, in NHS hospitals, you don't get your own room. If the midwives/doctors need to examine you, they pull a flimsy curtain around your bed to protect your privacy. The actual labour suite is on the next floor down in our local hospital and you get transferred down there when you are 4cm dilated. On the ward, partners are subject to visiting hours (8am- 8pm) - outside of these hours, if you are labouring, you labour alone. Nice, huh?!

So, back to the story. I got a great bed – right next to the window – which was a good thing because we were in the middle of a crazy heatwave! In the bed next to me, was a lady who needed a C-section but had gone into labour before her scheduled date. Theatre was busy with emergencies so they kept her labouring on the ward, checking her regularly to ensure she hadn't progressed too far. She was clearly terrified and in a lot of pain. Opposite me was a lady who had been induced but had yet to get to 4cm. She was moaning and crying out every few minutes. It was pretty noisy!

At 9am, one of the midwives came to check me and to insert a Propess pessary, which was supposed to kickstart labour. She was anything but gentle and it was so, so painful. I wriggled and squirmed up the bed as she tried to ram her hand as far as it would go. "Just relax!" she kept saying but I couldn't. In the end, she abandoned her quest find my cervix, concluding by default that it was very closed. The Propess was left inside me. I should have asked her how she got the Propess against my cervix if she couldn't find it but, again, I trusted that she knew best and I was just glad she had finished...... I was told to walk around the hospital grounds, which I did – for several hours. Nothing. 8pm came and DH had to leave. Cue the worst night's sleep ever. Both of the ladies I had described to you were in full blown scream mode all night. It was horrific.

The following morning (Monday), DH arrived at 8am and, at 10am, a different midwife came to check me. The Propess hadn't worked because it wasn't against my cervix. Duh! This midwife explained that my cervix was very high and in order for her to find it I would have to be very relaxed. She ordered some gas-and-air from the labour ward for me to use while she examined me. Gas- and-air (nitrous oxide) is amazing. It doesn’t take away pain but it does relax you. You have to breathe it in through a tube - just like snorkelling. The midwife showed me how to use the mouth piece and said "I'll just let you practice for a bit" and went away. I took a couple of deep breaths. "Is it working?" DH asked, anxiously. "I don't think so," I replied but, as I said it, I felt my mouth spread into a huge grin. I took another gulp - and started to giggle. Suddenly, the midwife was by my side, smiling. "It's working, then?" she said. "No, I don't think so" I said and then started laughing hysterically. I couldn't stop! Once I had gathered myself, I lay back, rhythmically breathed my gas-and-air, and imagined I was back in Mexico, snorkelling with the fish. I saw them so clearly, with their bright colours and big open mouths! While I snorkelled, the midwife checked me - my cervix was completely closed - and she reinserted the pessary. She told me to request gas-and-air before every check in future.

Over the course of the day, I must have walked several miles around the hospital and started getting a dull ache like a period pain. At 5pm, they were due to take the Propess out and I had to have a 24 hour break before they could put another one in. My lovely midwife had gone home and the first midwife was back. DH told her that I would need gas-and-air for my examination, to which she replied "I won't be checking her tonight. She's clearly not in labour". She then instructed me to take the pessary out myself, in the bathroom, as you would a tampon. DH was furious and I really thought he was going to kick off but I managed to calm him down and sent him home. The two screaming ladies from the night before had both gone down to the labour suite and the ward was blissfully quiet so I settled in for my second night.....

.... until 10pm, when they brought a new lady up to the ward. She had been down in the labour suite but had stalled at 6cm so they brought her up to the ward to labour while they used the room for someone else. Yup, you guessed it, she huffed and puffed and whimpered and moaned all bloody night. Midwives came and went, checking her and at 6am they took her back down. Another night with no sleep.

Tuesday morning, DH arrived to find me completely exhausted and a little tearful. My dull period-pain ache had stopped altogether and I had had no sleep for two nights. I was due to receive my second Propess at 5pm but until then we were just hanging around. "I've had enough of this," he said, "You need to sleep. I'm breaking you out". He took me by the hand and marched me out of the ward and to the car!! We went home and I slept for a few hours. When we arrived back at the hospital, nobody had missed us and I felt much better. At 5pm, my lovely midwife checked me and announced that I was 0.5cm dilated. "If we can get you to 2cm, I bet I can break your water". She inserted my second Propess and within a couple of hours the dull ache was back. I was over the moon!

There was a new lady on the ward and we got chatting that evening. She was also being induced - her first Propess had been inserted at around 6pm - and she was also feeling the dull ache. By the time our husbands had to go home, her dull ache had turned into contractions that she actually had to breathe through. Well, you can guess the rest - she laboured noisily all night. At one point, she called the midwife to her bed and I heard her say "It's very painful, please can I have some pain relief". The midwife said she had someone else to attend to first and she never came back. I got out of bed and went over to the lady. "I want my husband." she said and just felt so, so sad for her. I rubbed her back for her while she lay on her side and, eventually, she fell asleep. I was so angry with the midwives that night but something else was bothering me - why wasn't I screaming in pain? The ache was pretty uncomfortable and, from about midnight, I had been unable to lie on the bed, preferring to bounce on the birthing ball, but this woman was in real, unbearable pain. I was hurtling towards a C-section and there was nothing I could do.

The following morning - Wednesday - I checked my blood sugar and it was sky high. It was the last straw for me - I started crying uncontrollably. I was so tired and so mad and completely convinced I was never going to go into labour!! I was so hysterical, they took me into a private room and called my husband to come in early. He was amazing. At this point, I felt like I was made of tissue paper - translucent and thin. I've never been so tired in my entire life.

At 10am, Wednesday, they checked me - I was 2cm! Hurrah! Cue a new lease of life! We were told that, as soon as a bed became available down in the labour suite, we could go down and they would break my water. The dull ache came and went in waves and I greeted each one excitedly. DH said he had never seen anyone so happy to be in pain! I walked and walked around the hospital and bounced and bounced on my birthing ball! Lunchtime came and went. Dinner time came and went. We finally got down to the labour ward at 8pm. Nightmare! Not least because I was still only 2cm! They managed to break my water and told me to go for another walk to kickstart labour. I had a huge pad on and could still feel the liquid oozing out - so disgusting - but we took a stroll outside on a beautiful summers evening, watching the hospital helicopter land and talking excitedly about how our life was about to change.....

Can you guess what happened next? That's right - NOTHING! My contractions completely stopped. At 9pm, we went back to our labour room and met the midwife who would actually be delivering our baby. She was an older lady – quite stern – and was also the supervisor on shift that night. She said that I would need the Syntocin drip but that meant that I would need to be hooked up to the monitor the entire time. I lay on the bed and they fitted the monitors - held in place on my belly with a rubber strap. Then they started up the hormone drip....

Almost immediately, I was assaulted by the most excruciating pain I had ever felt. All I knew was that I needed to stand. It was instinctive. I leapt off the bed, sending the monitors flying. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” I gasped, rocking my hips back and forth. As suddenly as it came on, the pain stopped. I was escorted back to the bed and the monitors were reattached. A minute or so later, it happened again and, once again, I leapt up. My midwife was getting pretty angry at that point. She said “The monitors are important; they’re to make sure baby is safe. You want baby to be safe don’t you?” And I did – I really did – but it was just too painful to be lying down. I got back onto the bed but I was pretty distressed. “I can’t be expected to lie here on my back, it’s barbaric” I whimpered to DH. I was shaking violently – I couldn’t stop. While the midwife was re-attaching the monitor, DH passed me my gas-and-air tube and urged me to take a gulp, to calm me down. “If you’re over-reacting like this so early on,” the midwife sneered, “you’re going to need the epidural”. “Yes, I want it, I want it” I gasped. “You can’t have it yet!” she exclaimed, “You’ve only just started. Get to 4cm and then we’ll talk about it”. With that, she left the room to see to her “supervisory” duties. I now know (from a friend who is a midwife) that it’s standard to offer the epi before the drip is started off. It also appears that I was very sensitive to the Syntocin and was having serious contractions straight away…..

The next three hours are just a blur. DH was amazing – he watched the monitor and was able to see when a contraction was beginning. He would tell me when to start breathing the gas-and-air so that I was relaxed when the contraction hit. The gas didn’t dull the pain any but it calmed me enough to breathe deeply and focus on him as he talked me through the contraction: “Okay, it has peaked, it’s coming down now, 10,9,8,7….”. They were less than a minute apart right from the get go. During contractions, I would involuntarily swing my knees wildly side to side. While I did this, DH would hold the monitors in place on my belly. At around 1am, I started convulsing. Over and over again, my entire body seized up, my knees would draw themselves up to my ears and all the breath was knocked out of me. DH could see that I was bleeding, too, so he ran to find the midwife (who was delivering another baby no less!). He was terrified. The midwife came into the room and said she would check me. If I was 4cm, she said, I could have my epidural. I was having violent contraction on top of violent contraction; I’ve never felt so scared or so out of control in my entire life. “How far do you think you are?” she asked. I prayed I was 4cm. “You’re ready to push!” I wasn’t having convulsions, I was in transition!!! I had gone from 2cm - 10cm in three hours. At that moment, another contraction hit. “Push!” she shouted.

I pushed but nothing was happening. Over and over. I pushed so hard I pooed all over the bed but still no baby. You can’t have the gas-and-air while you are pushing so I did the last hour med-free (apart for the Syntocin, of course). It took what little strength I had out of me - I was so tired and my efforts were getting weaker and weaker. After about an hour of pushing, the midwife exclaimed, “Heart-rate’s dropped. We have to get her out right now”. All of a sudden, the room was full of doctors. One was explaining something to me – some sort of disclaimer - another was setting up a table with various implements like forceps and there was a third at the end of the bed, between my legs, wearing a mask. All I can remember, in the midst of the commotion, was looking into the third doctor’s eyes and mouthing “Help me. Help me”. Another contraction hit and I knew that I had to get my baby out there and then. She needed me. Without prompting, I gave an almighty push. Thunk. We had a head. Then a body. My baby girl was here. Elliott May was born at 2.14am on Thursday morning, weighing 5lb 15oz.

Eight months on, she is just the most precious thing in my entire world. She is worth every second of my 110 hour ordeal – I would do it every single week if I had to, to keep her healthy and happy. If you’ve made it this far, well done! Thank you for allowing me to share this story with you.