scrobble
15-09-2009, 11:31am
I suppose I ought to post mine, seeing as it's been a while and I've got a minute!
So...here's my London adventure!
At 10.30 on the Sunday morning, an hour before the first film of the day, I felt a trickle down below and thought I was wetting myself (in denial, moi?!). I called out to Mr S and he told me it was most likely my waters and I started crying, saying I couldn't give birth in London! He got me in the shower to freshen up and see if any more came out - I then got out and stood on the bath mat, still dripping loads. In about 10 minutes I'd soaked 2 maternity pads on top of each other and a pair of knickers!
While I stood in the bathroom, Mr S went downstairs to find out what the nearest hospital was and to inform our hospital what was happening. I then chucked on some clothes and we got a taxi to University College Hospital, about 5 mins away by taxi. As I got out of the taxi, water was pouring out of me and I had to squelch along the corridor to maternity, still dripping everywhere. The first thing I did when I got into the room to be checked out was to go to the loo and empty my shoes out! (tip: Crocs shoes are great in late pregnancy for holding large amounts of amniotic fluid; but you need ones with a closed back. I'm sure wellies would also be a good option...)
They checked me over, monitored the twins' heartbeats and did another scan, which showed both were head down and Max's head was really low. They also gave me an injection to reduce the chance of infection and something to help the babies' lungs.
I had to wait around a fair bit for people to come in, do ringing around etc. I was then told that they were looking for a hospital that had two neonatal cots, as the twins were early and they weren't sure if they would need extra help once born. Unfortunately they only had one cot free, so I was transferred by ambulance to the Whittington Hospital in Islington, who did have 2 cots, and put on a really creepy-looking Edwardian ward overnight for observation. I was told at this point that there was a 50/50 chance that I'd go into labour overnight - and that if I still hadn't gone into labour the following day, I'd probably be OK to travel home and go straight to my local hospital.
I didn't get much sleep that night, maybe 2 hours in total. Every half hour I was up for a wee, and I felt like I needed to poo because my tummy was sore, but nothing was happening. It also didn't help that there was a woman in labour on the ward nearly all night but they didn't have a labour room free for hours so she got to really far dilated (very noisily!) before she was moved downstairs. The woman in the next cubicle also snored all night!
I was wide awake at 5.30 with horrible tummy ache, but it was just a steady pain, and then just before 7am I realised I was getting strong AF-like pains every 9-10 minutes. Someone popped their head round the curtain at some point when contractions were 7-8 minutes and said if I wanted any breakfast I'd have to come to the room down the corridor to make my tea and toast. I was having a contraction at the time and said I wasn't able to, so she went away and didn't offer to bring me anything (!). Then someone else (a nurser?) popped her head in and I asked if I could have some painkillers and that I was having regular pains; should I ring my husband? She said not to call Mr S yet and that I couldn't have anything until the midwife had been on her rounds to monitor all the babies' heartbeats on the ward. She said 'you're probably in labour' and then vanished.
After what felt like forever, but was more like 40 minutes, the midwife came round. I'd texted Mr S in the meantime and asked him to come over anyway as I was in quite a bit of pain and the contractions seemed to be getting closer really fast. The midwife asked if I needed gas and air (about 5-6 mins apart at this stage) and I said yes, so she brought in the gas canister, and that made it so much easier to manage. She brought a heart monitor for the babies, then realised it was the wrong one for twins and had to search around for a bit to find the right type. All this time my contractions felt like they were getting closer and closer. By the time Mr S arrived, I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes (this was about 9am). The midwife brought me a wheelchair just after 9, and we all went down to one of the delivery suites, where they got me onto a bed. At this point I thought I really needed to wee, but wasn't able to get out of bed, so they brought a bedpan. Nothing happened, though!
At 9.30, a doctor came in to check me out and see how dilated I was, and said I was 9cm - just 1cm off fully dilated! By this time I was strapped up to monitors again to keep an eye on the babies' heart rates and not long after that I was checked again and told I was fully dilated. I was told to hold off pushing for the time being, and was getting panicky when I couldn't get the gas and air mouthpiece quickly enough or I bit so hard it separated from the rest of the machine! I was in so much pain by this point that I asked about an epidural, but they said as I was fully dilated and contracting, the babies would be here soon and there was no time for it to take effect. However, I kept pushing and pushing with each contraction, and Max's head wasn't coming down any further, although the doctor had been able to feel the top of his head when I was 9cm dilated. I ended up pushing for hours (about 90 mins to start with before they decided an epidural was probably a good idea after all!) and then again for another hour or so after the epidural had been put in. After the epidural took effect I couldn't feel when my contractions were coming, so Mr S and the midwives were watching the contraction monitor to work out when I needed to push. After a little while, my contractions became really irregular and started to tail off. However, they said they couldn't do anything to re-start them (I can't remember why) and that they'd recommend a C-section. At this point I started crying - although I'd been to the C-section talk at the hospital a couple of weeks before we went away, just in case - I felt like I'd failed as I'd managed to get so far on only gas and air and only had the epidural as what I saw as a 'last resort.' They prepped me for theatre by shaving me and removing my toenail varnish and wheeled me through into the other room, where I was helped onto the operating table.
Once in theatre, it all happened very quickly. I was given more anaesthetic and a screen was put up between my head and abdomen, and Mr S stayed at my head end, holding my hand. It felt like it was only a few minutes when they pulled Max out and said 'it's a boy' and showed me him. He was crying really loudly when he came out, and it all felt very surreal. 2 minutes later they pulled Zoe out, still in her gestational sac with the placenta on her shoulder! She, too, started crying once the sac was burst, and the staff showed her to me.
Both babies were put on those incubator cot things to check out and Zoe apparently had some breathing problems and briefly stopped breathing, although I didn't realise until I read the medical notes later on - I was just told 'respiratory difficulties.' So she was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit and had a couple of days in an incubator, being respirated for the first day, and then moved to a cot in the lower-dependency special care unit. Max was given back to me and was in a cot while I was in recovery next to my bed, and then was with me the whole stay in hospital. Zoe stayed in special care and after the first day I was able to go and visit her and have a few cuddles.
Both are doing great now - they're having 3 breastfeeds a day and being topped up with expressed breast milk - and growing loads. Hopefully they'll be home in a week or two! Mr S is being great, really supportive.
Will post some pictures when I can - not very organised at the minute so everything's a bit of a rush!
So...here's my London adventure!
At 10.30 on the Sunday morning, an hour before the first film of the day, I felt a trickle down below and thought I was wetting myself (in denial, moi?!). I called out to Mr S and he told me it was most likely my waters and I started crying, saying I couldn't give birth in London! He got me in the shower to freshen up and see if any more came out - I then got out and stood on the bath mat, still dripping loads. In about 10 minutes I'd soaked 2 maternity pads on top of each other and a pair of knickers!
While I stood in the bathroom, Mr S went downstairs to find out what the nearest hospital was and to inform our hospital what was happening. I then chucked on some clothes and we got a taxi to University College Hospital, about 5 mins away by taxi. As I got out of the taxi, water was pouring out of me and I had to squelch along the corridor to maternity, still dripping everywhere. The first thing I did when I got into the room to be checked out was to go to the loo and empty my shoes out! (tip: Crocs shoes are great in late pregnancy for holding large amounts of amniotic fluid; but you need ones with a closed back. I'm sure wellies would also be a good option...)
They checked me over, monitored the twins' heartbeats and did another scan, which showed both were head down and Max's head was really low. They also gave me an injection to reduce the chance of infection and something to help the babies' lungs.
I had to wait around a fair bit for people to come in, do ringing around etc. I was then told that they were looking for a hospital that had two neonatal cots, as the twins were early and they weren't sure if they would need extra help once born. Unfortunately they only had one cot free, so I was transferred by ambulance to the Whittington Hospital in Islington, who did have 2 cots, and put on a really creepy-looking Edwardian ward overnight for observation. I was told at this point that there was a 50/50 chance that I'd go into labour overnight - and that if I still hadn't gone into labour the following day, I'd probably be OK to travel home and go straight to my local hospital.
I didn't get much sleep that night, maybe 2 hours in total. Every half hour I was up for a wee, and I felt like I needed to poo because my tummy was sore, but nothing was happening. It also didn't help that there was a woman in labour on the ward nearly all night but they didn't have a labour room free for hours so she got to really far dilated (very noisily!) before she was moved downstairs. The woman in the next cubicle also snored all night!
I was wide awake at 5.30 with horrible tummy ache, but it was just a steady pain, and then just before 7am I realised I was getting strong AF-like pains every 9-10 minutes. Someone popped their head round the curtain at some point when contractions were 7-8 minutes and said if I wanted any breakfast I'd have to come to the room down the corridor to make my tea and toast. I was having a contraction at the time and said I wasn't able to, so she went away and didn't offer to bring me anything (!). Then someone else (a nurser?) popped her head in and I asked if I could have some painkillers and that I was having regular pains; should I ring my husband? She said not to call Mr S yet and that I couldn't have anything until the midwife had been on her rounds to monitor all the babies' heartbeats on the ward. She said 'you're probably in labour' and then vanished.
After what felt like forever, but was more like 40 minutes, the midwife came round. I'd texted Mr S in the meantime and asked him to come over anyway as I was in quite a bit of pain and the contractions seemed to be getting closer really fast. The midwife asked if I needed gas and air (about 5-6 mins apart at this stage) and I said yes, so she brought in the gas canister, and that made it so much easier to manage. She brought a heart monitor for the babies, then realised it was the wrong one for twins and had to search around for a bit to find the right type. All this time my contractions felt like they were getting closer and closer. By the time Mr S arrived, I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes (this was about 9am). The midwife brought me a wheelchair just after 9, and we all went down to one of the delivery suites, where they got me onto a bed. At this point I thought I really needed to wee, but wasn't able to get out of bed, so they brought a bedpan. Nothing happened, though!
At 9.30, a doctor came in to check me out and see how dilated I was, and said I was 9cm - just 1cm off fully dilated! By this time I was strapped up to monitors again to keep an eye on the babies' heart rates and not long after that I was checked again and told I was fully dilated. I was told to hold off pushing for the time being, and was getting panicky when I couldn't get the gas and air mouthpiece quickly enough or I bit so hard it separated from the rest of the machine! I was in so much pain by this point that I asked about an epidural, but they said as I was fully dilated and contracting, the babies would be here soon and there was no time for it to take effect. However, I kept pushing and pushing with each contraction, and Max's head wasn't coming down any further, although the doctor had been able to feel the top of his head when I was 9cm dilated. I ended up pushing for hours (about 90 mins to start with before they decided an epidural was probably a good idea after all!) and then again for another hour or so after the epidural had been put in. After the epidural took effect I couldn't feel when my contractions were coming, so Mr S and the midwives were watching the contraction monitor to work out when I needed to push. After a little while, my contractions became really irregular and started to tail off. However, they said they couldn't do anything to re-start them (I can't remember why) and that they'd recommend a C-section. At this point I started crying - although I'd been to the C-section talk at the hospital a couple of weeks before we went away, just in case - I felt like I'd failed as I'd managed to get so far on only gas and air and only had the epidural as what I saw as a 'last resort.' They prepped me for theatre by shaving me and removing my toenail varnish and wheeled me through into the other room, where I was helped onto the operating table.
Once in theatre, it all happened very quickly. I was given more anaesthetic and a screen was put up between my head and abdomen, and Mr S stayed at my head end, holding my hand. It felt like it was only a few minutes when they pulled Max out and said 'it's a boy' and showed me him. He was crying really loudly when he came out, and it all felt very surreal. 2 minutes later they pulled Zoe out, still in her gestational sac with the placenta on her shoulder! She, too, started crying once the sac was burst, and the staff showed her to me.
Both babies were put on those incubator cot things to check out and Zoe apparently had some breathing problems and briefly stopped breathing, although I didn't realise until I read the medical notes later on - I was just told 'respiratory difficulties.' So she was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit and had a couple of days in an incubator, being respirated for the first day, and then moved to a cot in the lower-dependency special care unit. Max was given back to me and was in a cot while I was in recovery next to my bed, and then was with me the whole stay in hospital. Zoe stayed in special care and after the first day I was able to go and visit her and have a few cuddles.
Both are doing great now - they're having 3 breastfeeds a day and being topped up with expressed breast milk - and growing loads. Hopefully they'll be home in a week or two! Mr S is being great, really supportive.
Will post some pictures when I can - not very organised at the minute so everything's a bit of a rush!