29 Hours Later . . .

Firstly, before I launch into my birth story, I'd like to introduce you our newest member of the Grumpinator family - Jamie Alexander Douglas McLean born on Saturday 14th September at 22.17 weighing 10lbs 8oz and measuring 58cm. 

It's been three weeks since I gave birth to our second baby but it feels like yesterday.

When I had my first child (JC - the Grumpinator) it was pretty much a dream labour. I would even go as far as to say it was an enjoyable birth. I didn't really feel the need for pain relief, I managed the whole thing quite well and recovered really quickly post birth. I was shopping round the retail park 2 days later and feeling great!

This experience was not quite the same.

Funnily enough, the first birth, nothing went to plan. The planned home birth/water birth ended up in a hospital transfer with a sentocin drip and continuous monitoring. The second birth went completely to the plan! I recently wrote about my birth preferences and I pretty much got exactly what I wanted.

I was 41 weeks and 1 day overdue when my contractions started on Friday the 13th at 5pm. That very familiar pain which reoccurred every 20 mins in the beginning wasn't overly painful but noticeable. I ended up having a nice bath and watching a few episodes of breaking bad whilst my hubby snoozed on the couch. I decided to go to bed and try and get some sleep at 11.30pm. I managed to catch an hour or so but it was disrupted every 20 mins so at 1am I gave in and got up. I decided to have another bath and at this point my contractions had dropped down to every 7 mins. It was time to phone birth partner number 2 - my Mum.

She kept me company while I lay in the bath until it was stone cold. I sent my hubby back to bed for a rest as I knew it would be a long day ahead. I then had a little bounce on the birthing ball in an effort to speed things along. I was conscious that it was 7am, already one hour longer into the labour than with my first born.

How could this be? Second babies should be quicker surely???

I was 4 mins apart now so at least I was moving in the right direction.

We decided to go to hospital. It was time to get a move on!

I arrived at hospital at 8am and the next 8 hours were largely uneventful. I stayed at 4 mins and nothing was happening. One thing that was happening was that I was flagging. I was so exhausted that by 4pm I had a mini meltdown. The midwife caring for me offered to let me go in the pool and it was like she'd just offered me a winning lottery ticket.

Once I got in the pool I was able to relax a bit. My waters still hadn't gone and they were talking about breaking them in a few hours if things hadn't happened naturally by then.

8pm - I'm losing the will to live. Come on baby, get out of there! Hubby suggested that I listen to my hypnotherapy CD to try and relax. 20 minutes into the hypnosis, I was in 'the zone' and all I heard was 'POP'.

"! Waters!" I cried, partly in relief but also in agony. Up until this point I had only had paracetamol but the pain once my waters had gone was unreal. I asked for gas and air which was much needed to get me through the next 2 hours of pushing. I remember the transition phase and feeling like I couldn't go on. The water was easing a lot of the pain which I was feeling and the gas was helping me through the contraction surges. I think a few sweary words might have slipped out and I remember thinking that I wish the hypnotherapy voice playing in the background would shut the hell up! Easy for her to say 'breathe your baby down' she's not the one squeezing out a 10.8lber!

After a gruelling 29 hours of labouring (2 of which were really hard graft) I birthed him into the water at 22.17. My mum and hubby were both witness to this momentous occasion. I lifted him out of the water and he was silent. It took him a few moments to cry out and they were the longest moments of my life. I was surprised to see that he was really blonde and didn't really look like JC. He let out a little whimper then a cry. I held him close and said 'I had to work hard to bring you into the world and you kept me waiting!'

We let the cord stop pulsating then hubby cut it. I got a kiss from him for my efforts before he took Jamie to get dried and to give him a cuddle. I had a natural 3rd stage which all went fine and then I got out from the pool. Once in bed, I gave him his first feed and he was a natural. He fed for a good 40 minutes and seemed settled afterwards. We then got him weighed. The midwife had to weigh him twice as she thought she had made a mistake with the scales. 10lbs 8oz. Holy shit! I can't believe I did that naturally!

I was still bleeding quite heavily and the afterpains were agony. I had a little sleep for an hour and a bit toast (why does hospital toast always taste amazing?). I decided to go for a shower. This is really where things start to go quite wrong.

I didn't feel right in the shower. I was finding it hard to breathe and was a little dizzy. I held onto the bar as I showered. The next thing I remember is waking up with the midwives all around me, picking me up from the floor and praising me for pulling the emergency cord. I've no recollection of doing that and I wasn't quite sure how I had ended up on the floor but I was flat on my back and I had hit my head off the toilet on the way down. I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. As they pulled me up from the floor I looked down at the shower room floor to see that I was surrounded by a massive amount of blood. I was having a post partum haemorrhage. They quickly gave me an injection of sentometrine to control the bleeding. I was put in a wheel chair and taken back to bed. I was a bit concussed and I had hurt myself quite badly when I'd fallen.

To cut a long story shorter, I stayed in hospital another night as I wasn't quite ready to go home. I still felt out of sorts, short of breath and dizzy. I was still bleeding heavily and this lasted for 14 days after the birth. I was really worried that I was going to have another haemorrhage. As stupid as it sounds, I was scared to go to sleep in case I didn't wake up. I'm anaemic anyway and my blood count was low when I left hospital, to continue to bleed could not be a good thing for me and I was well aware of this. I've had two infections since the birth, one in the womb and one in the breast. It hasn't been a easy time. I expected to recover quickly like I did with JC but it's been 3 weeks and I am only just starting to feel like myself again. I feel quite traumatised by the shower incident and I feel panic every time I go in the shower. It's going to take time for me to feel ok again I guess.

On the plus side, I have a beautiful baby boy who was worth every moment of agony and worry. I am a very lucky lady to have 2 healthy and happy boys to lavish love on. I feel positive about being a mum this time round and I pledge not to take myself too seriously. I am looking forward to the new chapter in my life and I am looking forward to sharing it with you.

Too Fat To Give Birth

Okay, before you start reading I must disclose that this may come across as a ranting post and there may be some bad language. This post has been sitting in my drafts folder for a while now. I keep adding and tweeking bits. Let me start at the beginning, my first pregnancy.

38 weeks preggers and about the size of a bus!

I have always been chubby and over the last few years I have been clinically obese. I am very short (just shy of 5ft and although I am a size 16-18, my height means my BMI is always high. Even when I was a size 12 at 10 stone I was classed as overweight. In desperation to fall pregnant I took some protein shakes as part of a food elimination/VLCD diet. It worked and after 3 weeks of drinking nothing but milkshakes I was almost 2 stone lighter and pregnant. Nobody mentioned my weight at my prenatal check ups. I went on to lose more weight in my pregnancy due to constant morning sickness.

2 weeks before I was due to give birth I was speaking to my midwife about my birth plan which was always planned as a water birth. She then said 'you can't have a water birth, you're too overweight'. I was 1 BMI point over the threshold that they set for water births. She then went on to tell me that I would have to been constantly monitored and that I really should of been under consultant care throughout my pregnancy. I was reeling! I asked her to justify this to me, why could I not have a water birth? What did my weight have to do with that? She told me that the reason for this was that the nurses weren't insured to pull me from the water should I need assistance as I'd be too heavy.

Well, this set me off big time. It was big tears and snotters. What I couldn't understand or get across was the fact that someone who was 1 inch taller than me could be the same exact weight but would be classed as healthy and allowed to have the water birth. I just didn't feel heard. I was forced into choosing between a closely monitored hospital birth or a home birth with my own birthing pool. This was a no brainer for me. Home birth it was although this caused much tension between me and my family. Although my Mum was supportive, nobody else was behind my decision and everyone thought I was mad. As it happens I ended up transferring to hospital as my blood pressure was elevated. This was not weight related. I had none of the risk factors associated with being overweight and pregnant. I kept extremely well throughout my pregnancy. My labour went without a hitch (excluding the BP). Looking back I have perspective on it but it still angers me.

I went to the doctors today to get the results of some bloods I have had taken recently. The Doctor gave me a really hard time about my weight and said my BMI was 'ridiculous'. He was reading out my results and said that my cholesterol was perfect, sugars were perfect, thyroid perfect and that he actually couldn't believe how healthy I am considering the way I look (what he meant was what my BMI is). I discussed with him the fact that we want another baby and he just looked at me with disdain. He left me with the thought that I am too fat to give birth and that falling pregnant would be selfish and I'd be putting myself and my baby in danger. I wanted to shout 'what an arsehole!' 'Who do you think you are!' or 'Go F*$k yourself' but I just could even speak. My heart was heavy and I just got out the room as quick as I could.

*Edit* Since writing this post 5 years ago, I went on to have another baby. I didn't lose any weight but I did get fit. I walked more regularly and I improved my diet but didn't go on a diet. I had a problem free pregnancy, a trouble free labour and produced another beautiful, healthy boy. My struggle with the NHS/BMI didn't stop I'm afraid but I was stronger and more vocal second time round. You can read my about my epic 2nd birth story here. I had to fight to be midwife led second time round and not in consultant care but I got my own way! Never give up fighting. Thin doesn't mean healthy. I may be large but I am fit, healthy and strong. My body is amazing. It is a roadmap of the journey to motherhood. It is a vehicle that carries me through life. I love my body and I am not ashamed of it.

I'm linking this post up with Liska's Inner Truth Linky

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What Your Children Mean To You

Nickie at Typecast is trying to raise awareness of a charity called CLIC Sargent. They are a charity working all over the UK to support children with cancer and their families. They are running a Yummy Mummy campaign and Nickie is supporting them by hosting a writing linky to help raise awareness. I have decided to take part as I think they are such a wonderful charity. The writing prompt this week is: What Your Children Mean To You, here is my attempt.

I was always career driven. Obsessed even. I liked to feel like I was striving further and higher than anybody else. In hindsight, I was probably very annoying. I married my high school sweetheart when we turned 26 after 10 years of being together. Before the wedding I was adamant that I wasn't planning on starting a family for at least a few years. Maybe when I was nearer to 30. I love travelling and thought that having a child would drastically alter my lifestyle and that I would take exception to this.

A week after the wedding, when we were having dinner, I just blurted out 'I think I want to have a baby'. I don't know where this came from because it had never crossed my mind before. I was even more surprised when my hubby, who honestly would admit that he was not the most mature of men at the time, said 'me too'. I was flabbergasted. Although it was a split second decision it took a year for me to fall pregnant so we had plenty of time to get used to the idea.

I always tear up when I think about it. The moment I held him in my arms for the first time. I don't even know how to put the feeling into words. It was like a rush of love and devotion mixed with fear and  uncertainty. I didn't cry at the time. I couldn't stop smiling. Here was the baby that we had waited to meet for 9 months but wanted for longer. He was beautiful. I didn't sleep the first night in hospital. I just watched him sleep. I couldn't take my eyes off him. His peaceful face, full of innocence, was a blank canvas for which the world would in time make it's mark upon but in that moment he was mine, a pure soul.

So to answer the question of what he means to me. He means everything. The thoughts of career, travel, music and the life I had before have faded. I no longer think about what was or what would have been had I not decided to have children. I only think of how much richer my life is with him in it.




I think about the challenges we might face in the future and his health is always one of my biggest fears. I cannot begin to imagine how devastating it must be for a parent to have their child diagnosed with cancer. I think that charities such as CLIC Sargent are doing amazing work to support families going through this. We lost a child in our school last year to cancer, a primary 1. We are working on ideas for a memorial for her in our school garden, something with beautiful flowers as she loved nature and like flowers, she brightened up the world around her.