On Labour Part 3: Epidural and C Section

                Etta Sally Jemima Lee born at Waitakere Hospital on the 18th May 2013

 An anaesthetist came and talked me through my drug options (and drug allergies), and gave me the consent forms to sign.  I have never signed anything faster in my life.  I was over being exhausted and in pain.  Throughout the decision making process I was still having contractions.  I was told I didn't need to push any more, but I couldn't control the urge to do it.  Not only was this painful and exhausting, but felt hopeless - these contractions were not aiding me in getting a baby.  I opted for an epidural rather than spinal block or general anaesthetic.  Given the option I wanted to be conscious to meet my baby, and I knew more about epidural than spinal block, so it was 'safer' for my brain.

It felt like hours waiting for the O.R to be prepped and the paperwork signed but finally it was time to go.  The orderly who wheeled me there was lovely.  He was a Granddad covered with what looked like ex-military (possibly Navy) tattoos and he chatted away about his family to me the whole time.  He was a welcome distraction from the burden of my body.  I found this sort of distraction to be absolutely the most useful tool of all for me during the worst of labour. 

Arriving at an O.R is always a surreal experience.  There are far more people than you think necessary, and you never know what they are there for besides the Anaesthetist and Dr.  In a C Section it makes slightly more sense though - they are dealing with two people.  The transfer from bed to table would have been fine had I not been having contractions through it.  Then I had to sit up for the epidural to be delivered.  This sounds easy, but when you have a baby's head stuck in your vagina it really isn't.  They told me to sit up as straight and still as possible.  I tried my best through contractions, but it took a while before I managed it.  Being in pain makes you hyper aware of your body.  The sensation of the iodine slathering my back was like drinking a tall glass of water after running a marathon.

The local was not sore at all, just a sharp nip - not even as bad as having an IV put it.  The epidural going in was the oddest sensation.  To start with, little electric shocks down my right calf.  The only thing I've felt similar to this is the 'turning on' of needles during acupuncture.  They adjusted the epidural a few times, but this also didn't hurt, it just felt weird.  Following the electric shocks came a creeping pins and needles sensation, and at a point a very sharp pain in my pelvis which I screamed through.  Epidurals work slowly and patchily.  The numbness creeps up from toe to stomach.  The ecstasy I felt when I was finally contraction free is indescribable.  I felt in control again.  I felt like I could finally be excited about having a baby. 

During this process they put a screen up so you can't see below your chest, and Murray and my Midwife came in wearing scrubs.  I completely understand why you aren't allowed to watch your own C Section, but I wish I could have - I LOVE watching surgery.  The anaesthetic nurse's job was to distract me, and she was bloody good at it.  We talked about her children and her C Section.  I reacted to some drug thing and my hands started flapping uncontrollably, but the nurse just gave the anaesthetist a look and he tweaked something which made it stop.  

Despite being unplanned and my worst-case-scenario-for-labour, the C Section was a weird, but wonderful experience.  I always knew there was a slight possibility I'd need one, so had prepped myself emotionally just in case - I had even watched a C-Section delivery online.  And having had abdominal surgeries before, the actual surgical side of things didn't worry me at all.  This is a very commonly carried out procedure - the Dr's who do them have got it down to a fine art.  Once I knew what was happening, and was no longer in pain, the fact that this was far from my plan A for birth was a non-issue. 

With an epidural you can still feel things in the numb area - but it doesn't hurt.  Our antenatal lady described it as feeling 'like someone washing the dishes in your tummy' - that was quite apt.  When they did the big cut it felt like little fingers brushing over my tummy.  The best feeling was when they pulled the baby out - I felt the weight lift off my spine.  Then I heard my daughter Etta cry.  She was born at 9.45pm, about seventeen and a half hours after my waters broke.

I didn't get to see her at all for what felt a long time - it was probably about 5 minutes.  Murray still got to cut the cord which in the context of a C Section he found to be a barbaric act - the cord sprayed blood all over his scrubs and it felt like a token act.  All the normal baby checks were done, and whilst doing so, the Dr continued his work on me.  C Sections happen fast.  As soon as the epi has properly kicked in they cut you open, and pull a baby out - it seriously only takes a few minutes.  The aftermath takes longer.  Once they'd checked her out, she was brought over and put next to my face.  She stopped crying as soon as she heard my voice.  She remembered my voice from the womb.  I really was someone's Mum.

It sounds dumb, but I was grateful that she was not a weird looking baby.  I mean, she was covered in vernix (Murray sneakily watched over the screen and said she came out feet first looking like 'the white auk'), had bruising on her face and a slightly conical head, but looked otherwise like a normal cute baby.  She didn't look small, she didn't have the excess skin or giant eyes of prem babies.  She had a calm demeanour and chubby cheeks.  Despite all the issues I had in pregnancy and labour she was a healthy, normal, cute looking baby. 

After I was put back together they wheeled the bed through to recovery and then put Etta on my chest for skin to skin.  My Midwife put her on my breast to encourage feeding and I was amazed that it worked!  She fed for about an hour.  I couldn't believe that stuff was coming out of what just hours before had been normal lady boobs.  It was even harder to believe that Etta knew how to get that stuff out!  The pro of going through almost all of labour before my C Section was that all the hormones had been activated which helped make this process easy.  I was so, so glad.  Being able to breastfeed was something I was quite anxious about - I hadn't budgeted for formula!

During the C Section we found out why I was having so much trouble getting her out - her face was tilted slightly upward, so her forehead was stuck against my pubic bone.  The cord was also wrapped twice around her neck which was holding her back.  I wouldn't have been able to give birth naturally.  I was so glad my issues with labour were escalated fairly promptly.  It meant that despite these issues Etta never went into distress, and I was saved a lot of pain.  Etta was born with an APGAR of 9 (pretty much the best you can get) and at a healthy weight of 6 lb 15 oz - very decent for an early baby (nearly three weeks).

There are so many other things I'll write about later.  About the difficulties of not being able to pick up your new baby after a C Section.  About hospital and the Helensville birthing units.  About post-pregnancy body stuff.  About learning to be a family.  I promise to write in time, and there will be more time once we're more settled into this whole parenting thing.  At the moment it's just nice to appreciate the small things, like Etta.

On Labour Part 2: Labouring in water

                     What labouring in water looks like when not in a contraction...

It felt like forever until my contractions got regular enough, and close enough together for us to head in to hospital.  While we waited, we half heartedly watched Batman and Batman Returns - our equivalent of 'listening to soothing music' I guess.  Having contractions in the car was horrible, but knowing the trip only took 10 minutes made things ok.  We didn't arrive at hospital until 3pm, and Murray and I were still unsure if I would be dilated enough to get into the birthing pool, or even stay at hospital as my contractions had stayed quite irregular - we lied about how contractions to get into hospital early.  Murray had no choice in the issue.  Things hurt.  I needed help.  Our Midwife was slightly late, and I was at a loose end finding places to get through painful contractions until she arrived.  After an internal exam we found out I was 4cm dilated - just enough to stay at hospital and get into the pool.  Thank the lord!

In prep for labour, with all the problems with my hips, I had always felt that just as long as I could get into that birthing pool I'd be ok.  I was so mistaken.  Getting into the pool did help marginally, but it didn't magically make the contractions not sore.  It did seem to make the contractions more regular though, which was both a blessing and a curse.  It took less than a half hour in the pool before I was begging my Midwife for the gas.  The gas was not my friend.  It was really loud to inhale and just made me feel shaky and distracted from the task at hand.

Sadly, my Midwife Justine had to leave around 5pm and pass me on to her birthing partner Vanessa.  I was supposed to have my first appointment with Vanessa on Monday, so I was very glad that despite having not met her, I felt totally fine with her during an embarrassing, personal and intense time.  I felt so bad for Murray.  I didn't feel like being touched, and all his helpful talk, the 'just focus on this contraction and your breathing' just earned him a grumpier wife.  I found Vanessa a good distraction as we could talk deadlines, statistics, facts and other things that calmed me down.  We did find a job for Murray though, which was 'get Hannah a cool flannel and feed her water'.  Once that job was established, he seemed a lot less at a loose end.

Things very quickly got to the point where I was begging for an epidural.  My labour team were saying 'be logical' and I said that I was - there was no way I could cope with the pain of natural birth any more therefore an epidural was a logical solution.  I was exhausted by the contractions and lack of sleep over the previous few days, and was losing the plot.  Vanessa said we could do an internal to see how far along I was to determine if an epidural was a good option.  I said yes please.  Getting out of the birthing pool was absolute agony, but if I had some sort of time-frame then I knew I'd be able to cope better.  I was 9cm dilated - only 1cm away from being able to push.  I had managed to dilate from 4cm to 9cm in just an hour and a half.  Bloody awesome work.  I knew that pool would work!

Murray and I were both expecting Vanessa to tell us that I was only 5cm dilated and I would cry and ask for an epidural again, so we were both so relieved.  She said I could probably start pushing in about 20 minutes.  She said there was no point in an epidural at this stage, and I agreed - I knew it would just extend the labour.  Less than 15 minutes later I felt this huge pressure on my tailbone area, and the urge to push - like when you have a really bad stomach bug and have no control over your bowels cramping.  This meant I could start pushing.

Even though I'd imagined that pushing would be the worst, most painful part, like everyone had told me, it's not.  The part I'd experienced just before (transition), was.  Pushing hurts, but you have a focal point throughout - trying to get the baby out.  Pushing is also the most embarrassing part of labour - it's usually the part where you shit yourself.  Even though I'm not a prude, I couldn't even labour nude (I mostly laboured as pictured above) - the idea of shitting myself was terrifying.  And what's worse, is that for me, I could feel it happening.  I apologised when the two very small pieces of faecal matter came out.  It was scooped out with a small net so I never saw it, but I knew it had happened, and that two people had just witnessed me defecating at close range.  Why people want a big labour 'team' I'll never understand.

After almost an hour of pushing I could (this is gross) put my finger one knuckle into my vagina and feel the baby's head.  At this stage, I was sure there wasn't much further to go.  Vanessa said it can be tough getting the baby's head 'around the corner' (the pubic bone), so we might have a way to go yet.  After a while of pushing, they could see the top of the head, and that head then getting 'sucked' back in.  She had lots of dark hair!  What an inspiration to push!  But every time I got close our hopes were dashed as her head went back to where it was.  During this, I was squatting with my head leaned against the edge of the bath.  Murray was cooling my forehead and feeding me water.  It was like the grossest team sport ever.  I was so glad we had really low lighting in that room.   At this stage I named our baby.  I had wanted to wait until she was born to name her, but given how stubborn she was proving, I knew exactly which of our favourite names suited her best.

Soon Vanessa said we should move from the pool to another position/place as the water might actually be slowing the progress of the labour down.  It took a while to convince me of this.  Moving when in labour is a terrifying idea, but eventually I caved after it became apparent nothing was progressing in the water.  I laboured standing up leaned against a bench until it was determined that wasn't helping.  Then I was told I should try the 'optimal' position for this part of labour - lying on the bed on my back with my feet in stirrups.  I had horrible back and hip pain and hadn't lain on my back for any period of time in months so this seemed like the worst position imaginable.  But I wanted to get the job done, so I got up on that bed and gave it a shot.

Soon, my contractions started getting less strong, so someone else was called in to see what to do next.  I was in agony at this point, and begging for an epidural or anything to help me get through it.  The biggest problem was that I was exhausted.  Every contraction I put in a token effort of pushing, but I was just losing the stamina (and motivation) to do the larger pushes of earlier.  The head Midwifey lady thing put me on a drip - the theory being that hydrating me might help strengthen the contractions.  It didn't strengthen them enough.  I was still pushing as much as I could with the contractions, and they were still seeing her head, and then it would disappear again.

Things were escalated again and the Dr was to be called in.  When Vanessa found out who the Dr on call was she was not very happy - apparently he's a very conservative Dr.  More direct foetal monitoring would need to be done before he'd even see me as my heart rate was interfering with the standard fetal monitoring.  So a monitor was attached to baby's head via my vagina.  Monitoring proved baby to be perfectly fine: 'The baby isn't in distress, so our options will be to give you a drug to help strengthen your contractions, or give you an epidural'.  I told her I was very glad the baby wasn't distressed, but that I was, and I just didn't have the strength to go on pushing so to please please let me have the epidural.

It wasn't too long until the Dr turned up.  Given they had told me he was a 'conservative' Dr, I expected the worst (which to me was 'just keep on pushing honey!')  After an extremely painful internal exam he told me he had some bad news.  Even though the baby wasn't in distress it was clear her head was becoming misshapen from being stuck in the birth canal.  To ensure the baby stayed safe in labour I needed to have a C Section.  At this point I was just filled with joy.  There was a solution.  It wouldn't take long.  My baby would be ok and I'd get to meet her soon.  I told him that was fine, and I just hoped we could get it done soon.

*            *            *           *          *

There will be a Part 3 and then no more on labour I promise (except maybe a 'tips' list).  Sorry!  Lots happened, so writing in parts helps now I have a new little baby to look after and little time and brain.  I will try and get it up in the next few days so stay tuned...

On Labour Part 1: As it happens (at home)

I wrote some of this during the obvious beginning of labour, and I'll continue it once we've been home for a bit longer.  I thought it important to document as best and as soon as I can given what I've been blogging about previously.  So here's the first part written as it happened before we went into hospital.  I haven't edited it much to keep things as honest as possible.

18th May 6amish
Earlier this week what I THINK was my mucosal plug came away.  It wasn't tinged with blood, it wasn't solid and didn't look like most pictures on the internet.  But after going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, coming back to bed and feeling gross between my legs, I discovered a butt-load of clear discharge had turned up all of a sudden.  Following that there was a minuscule (like a couple of pin heads) amount of weird jelly stuff.  None of this is normal for me, so I assumed probably mucosal plug, probably going into labour in the next few weeks.

The day following this middle-of-night discovery, I started having constant lower back pain, pressure on my bowel and some intermittent periods of period-like cramping and Braxton Hicks.  Given what I've read, I assumed this was the prequel to labour and got all happy.  Then nothing happened.  For two days.  So then I thought 'wow, maybe this is just how sucky the end of pregnancy gets'.  I was unimpressed to say the least.  I decided not to leave the house until this ended one way or another as walking around was unpredictably painful and I'd be frightening in public.  All my lists went by the wayside - I've spent the last two days clocking computer games, eating everything in the house and looking after a gunky-eyed rabbit (great entertainment when you're stuck at home).

Last night contraction-type things started becoming slightly less irregular - about twice an hour - but for unpredictable lengths of time.  So I thought maybe labour was on its way.  Then this morning at about 4.30am I woke up because of a slight weird feeling between my legs - so glad I'm a light sleeper!  My waters broke, but I managed to get to the bathroom before the massive gush went everywhere.  There was more fluid than I had expected - if I'd still been in bed our mattress would have been saturated - we had to mop our bathroom floor.  Thank goodness for small miracles! 

Thankfully, the waters are clear (yay!) so we are on track for the water birth I wanted.  They tell you that the amniotic fluid will continue to 'trickle' out - trickle my ass!  I had to change my first pad after half an hour.  At times it feels like I am uncontrollably pissing myself.  And every time I have a contraction it puts pressure on everything and makes a gush come.  And if I stand up, or do anything besides sit still more fluid goes everywhere. 

I'm writing now because I am too excited and gross feeling to rest up for 'proper' labour.  Murray was excited too.  So he packed the car with the hospital bags, filled it up with gas, and got himself a pie.  While he was gone I played computer games, and ate leftover Chinese.  The last part of pregnancy is hungry making.  I'm hoping after this rant I'll have exorcised some of that excitement and can nap for a bit.  If I don't feel too gross.  It's hard to lie down when you feel like you're pissing yourself.

So far the thing that's weirded me out the most about labour (I'm sure there's much more to come) is how slow everything's been.  I'm guessing everything up until now doesn't count?  Is it pre-labour stuff?  I read somewhere that some women 'count' labour as being from when they first feel contractions.  If I do this, I've already been in labour for about three days which just sounds wrong.  I have a feeling it's going to take a while from this point too.  But slow and steady wins the race, and I'm good with that (provided it's not another three days).  And if I count from when my waters break, I kinda hope I've still got at least 12 hours to go.  I'm sleepy and don't want to leave the house.  We're don't plan to call my Midwife until after 9am, so hopefully everything stays ship-shape until then.

*      *      *      *      *      *       *       *       *       *         

Only 1 1/2 hours have passed and now contractions are 4 minutes (roughly apart) and last about 30 seconds.  That went MUCH faster than I thought it would.  Have already gone through a bunch of maternity pads since waters broke - I highly recommend buying incontinence knickers if you plan on having your waters break!  So annoying changing pads so often.  And I had a short lie down and a shower in that time too.  Contractions are painful, but totally manageable using breathing exercises.  Can still type/read/drink/ shower through them.  Think this is going to end up going much quicker than I thought it would...

... and an hour later my contractions have slowed down - some were even 12 minutes apart.  Moving around to try and start them going again.

*      *      *      *      *      *       *       *       *       *         

It's now almost midday and after having irregular contractions varying from 2 - 4 minutes apart and 45 seconds to 1 1/2 minutes long for an hour, we called the Midwife.  She came and checked on me at home which was fantastic (even though internal exams suck).  Just before she got there the amnio had quite a bit of blood in it, so it was reassuring to know that it was ok.  Baby is totally fine.  Good heart rate - not in the ideal place, but head down and not facing my spine which is great.  I'm only dilated 3cm though, so still a little while before hospital time yet. 

Hoping it all doesn't take too long.  If it takes more than 18 hours since the waters broke, they'll put me on IV antibiotics, which will mean no water birth (and a bloody long labour).  So hoping we get this baby out by 10pm!

Part 2 will follow when I have time to write

On Plans for Labour and Birth Stuff

I thought I'd just pop a quick post up regarding our plans for labour - just so friends and whanau know what they are.

I really don't like other people seeing me in pain or unwell.  This is why when I have really severe anxiety or IBS, you will not see me out and about.  I will be camped out at home riding things out.  When I don't feel like I can put a 'face' on (happy, 'normal' me), it is unlikely that you'll see me.  Because of this, many people think I've 'got things together' - this is what I like people to think.  Sometimes when I say 'I have plans' it's because I plan on sitting home alone crying until everything feels normal again.  Even being around the people I love and know are ok with my crazy is difficult for me when I'm below par.  That's just how it's always been.

I've been to hospital a lot in the last few years - and I've been fine with having visitors.  What people won't know (cos carefully planned) is that I only have visitors once I know, roughly, what's going on.  And I'm also usually doped up on pain killers by the time anyone's allowed to visit - which makes coping with whatever 'hospital' situation I'm in much easier.  I can wash my face, and look slightly human - like a normal sick-in-hospital-person.  So it's fine for people to come visit me.   Because even normal, coping people get sick, or break their ankles trampolining, and end up in hospital sometimes.

And because I will not be doped up or in control or able to put a face on, I don't want ANYONE around when I am in labour.  Except for Murray.  He's seen crap Hannah plenty.  And he made me some promises in a deconsecrated church that mean it's basically his job.  He has been to the classes with me and is cool, calm and collected - the perfect person to help me through this insanity.  Having anyone else around, even my favourite people, will distract me from the job at hand - getting this baby out as calmly, easily and hopefully quickly as possible.  If it turns out to be a long labour, we might let a few people know in case we need someone to bring us supplies (like food, or fizzy pop or games or whatever), but we'll ask them to drop supplies and run.  I can't think of anything worse than someone on the sidelines saying: 'C'mon Hannah, you're doing awesome!'  I will just stress out, grit my teeth and secretly want to punch that person, no matter who it is.*

This may surprise some people because I am so frank with my blogs/social media/in person.  But there is a big difference between being frank about something and actually letting people witness the carnage firsthand.  I'm happy to report back, but I don't want anyone to actually see this stuff.  Plus, when I say gross things about me it's funny.  When you say the same things, it's not as funny.  Sometimes it might even make me cry.  Cos by the time I say those things about me, I've processed them.  If you say it, I might not have yet and might just feel stink.  Me saying 'Wow, I have a train wreck vagina' is different than you saying 'Wow!  You have a train wreck vagina' - even if it's true**.

We plan on delivering at Waitakere Hospital (only a 10 minute drive from our house) and then transferring up to the Helensville Birthing Units.  I've heard awesome things about the birthing units from most people who've stayed up there - plus it's close to Mum.  It's also a little further away from Auckland...  That's because I equally don't want to see people straight after I've given birth.  This isn't because of my potential vaginal mess.  This is because I really don't know how I'm going to cope with having a small baby.  I have never been clucky.  I am not a 'baby' person.  I'm not sure how this stuff works.  Me, Murray and the baby will all be new to this being-a-family thing.  So I want us to have the time and space to work this out for ourselves. 

Of course this part is subject to change - everything might feel awesome and exciting and we might want to show our baby off to the world.  Or labour/baby may have some issues and we need some support.  We just don't know.  And we don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, so we're putting it out there now so no-one gets upset later.  We do promise to let people know when the baby arrives, and whether things are ok or not.  But I won't be on Facebook (don't have a smart phone) and we there won't be a million photos up immediately.

Once we get home, I'm sure we'll be keen as to have human contact.  This baby is lucky to have so many people in the world to love it.  And we promise everyone will get a chance to meet it once we've had a chance to spend time together as a new little family.  Thanks everyone for the love and support through this pregnancy dealio - it truly is appreciated.  

* Back in my younger days, I actually did punch someone in the face (they asked me to do it - literally - don't ask me why).  I'm surprisingly good at it (didn't injure fist, procured black eye).  You really don't want this to accidentally happen to you.  So I definitely advise not being around while I'm in labour.  Just in case I let my 'face' go and smack you one.

** Unless we've had a conversation about it previously, and you know it's ok - this does apply to some people.  They know who they are.

On being 37 weeks pregnant

This is what a tired, sore, very pregnant woman looks like.  You can JUST see the little stretch marks under my belly button (yay - still no outie!) - the horizontal line above my belly button is just clothes mark.  The mark above is my piercing scar comboed with some surgery mess.  The line down the left hand side low down isn't a stretch mark - it's a rabbit scratch - Wellesley has a gunky eye and he doesn't like me cleaning it.

Yay!  We made it to 37 weeks!  Any time the baby comes from here on in is fine with me.  But I'd prefer it if it were at least another week away - we still need to pick up the car seat.  And It'd be fab if she were still just a little early.  The only way I'm getting through each day of pregnancy is by focusing on the following things:

a) there's not long to go now

b) I never have to do this again.

So I REALLY hope she's not late.  Our Midwife said she's had someone with pre-term labour issues like mine that made it all the way to 42 weeks... I really hope that doesn't happen to me.

But in saying that, I'm semi hoping for a little bit more time.  Because how do you know when you're ready?  We still have quite a few things left to organise - picking up the cot, the pram and the car seat.  And how am I actually going to cope with a tiny baby?  Those things (little babies) terrify me until they start looking more like little people (around 3 months).  I hate being pregnant, I truly do, but how do I know when I'm ready for the other side?  I guess you just don't.  So I'm taking things day by day and focusing on the little things.  And maybe once some of the big things are sorted, I'll feel more ready.  Maybe.

I had the first of our now weekly Midwife's appointments yesterday which went well.  Our baby is BIG.  I'm measuring about a week ahead of how pregnant I am (that's by 'their' dates, if 'my' dates are right, I'm not actually that big).  The baby had a massive growth spurt in the last two weeks which is why I am now no longer stretch mark free (dammit!)  Based on fundal height (not super accurate), if she goes to term we're looking at an 8 lb 13 oz  (4kg) baby.  And if we're overdue by the max, we're looking at an almost 10 pound baby!  Big is good - easier to dress, less scary to hold - but scarier to get out, and will not likely fit her little newborn outfits.  And even though it's not the most accurate estimate, given how I look and feel, I very much doubt she'll be fun-sized!

We finally went over the birth plan - glad the baby has waited until we got this done!  It's weird how just talking over those few things that are standard practice for a Midwife can be super reassuring for a first time Mum-to-be.  Even though I've read all the stuff and been to yoga and antenatal, I don't actually know specifically what a Midwife actually does during labour.  I'm sure that's because they're all different.  The most reassuring thing I learned was that if it's not quite hospital time, but things are proving difficult in early labour, she'll come check me out at home.  I also have a good idea of what her personal stances on a bunch of things - which mesh pretty well with mine. 

She said: 'I'm used to seeing women in pain, and you're supposed to be in pain, so I'm not going to feel sorry for you.'  This in the context of: 'I will not offer you drugs unless you actually need them.'  She thinks the rates of epidural we have are pretty high, and at 45% I have to concur.  But it's there as a back-up for us.  I think (and she agrees) that if everything's normal and I am allowed in a birthing pool, I should be ok.  But if I'm not, and my hips and pelvis are causing hell, then an epidural it'll be (she won't offer though, I'll have to ask).  No pethidine - which is excellent - opiates are not my friend, nor great for babies.  She said if I ask for drugs, she'll just give me gas - I'll have to ask a bunch of times before she'll consider the epidural unless she deems it necessary.

And all the other marginally hippy crap we're keen on is her standard practice - so glad we picked her!  Delayed cord clamping is what she normally does unless there are complications.  I don't need a fancy thing to take the placenta home in - they'll give me an ice-cream container.  The hospital and birthing unit will provide nappies and pads (cloth nappies at Helensville, ones that I don't have to wash).  I know these little things probably don't seem important, but anything unknown contributes to my anxiety.  Knowing the small things helps me worry less about the bigger things.

The reality is that the baby will just turn up whenever she feels like it.  Because we've had a bit of a scare, people seem to think I'm going to 'pop' like an overinflated balloon any minute.  I am in pain a lot of the time, but this pain is NO indication that I'm in labour, or going into labour soon!  If you see me flinching or gritting my teeth, or hear me moan that's just cos my hips have locked up, or this Braxton Hicks thing hurts, or the baby has just headbutted me in the pubic bone.  It's just cos this pregnancy SUCKS, but I'm unlikely to burst my waters all over your nice rug.

I'd like to think I'll have some kind of other warning before the real labour starts, and I think I've got at least a week to go - still no nesting*, still no mucous.  But no matter when she decides to turn up I will not be prepared.  I guess that's one of many things I should stop worrying about.

* I'm completely reliant on the nesting thing to get my house properly organised and clean.  So if this is one of the standard pre-labour things I miss out on, we're  kinda screwed and I will cry.