The Birth of Kieran Logi
Part One
Kieran was due on the 14th of July, but mummy and daddy expected him to be much later. On the 30th of June, he had shown no interest in engaging. On Sunday the 3rd of July, mum and dad were having dinner with friends and saying: “he isn’t coming any time soon.”
At 6am on Monday 4th, Kieran decided to prove us wrong. I had a show and went into a total panic mode! (“But we don’t have… a, b, c…. yet.”). Dad kept a bit calmer and got things together. Mum had some occasional twinges during the day, but by evening was having contractions every five minutes – but not sore ones. We phoned the hospital and were invited to come in to see if this really was the start of something, or just Braxton Hicks. I thought they weren’t Braxton Hicks, but I also didn’t believe that Kieran was willing to enter the world just yet.
The midwife confirmed 1cm dilation and the 5 minute contractions; we were invited to stay but decided to go home. I got about 2 hours sleep, because of the contractions (less frequent, but still not sore).
Mum got about 2 hours sleep and on Tuesday we realised that Kieran wouldn’t wait. But I was still in denial and didn’t want to announce my labour to find it was in fact a false alarm. We went a walk together and I bought a nursing bra (item b on the not got yet list!). We met a colleague and a student, with whom I discussed Turkish Cypriot property law.
By late afternoon, the contractions were getting sore, and I needed to moan through them. They were becoming more regular by about 4 o’clock; at one point every 5 minutes, but then back to 7-8. We realized it was time to go to hospital but I wanted to call my mum who would get home from work at 4.30 our time; we waited and waited; all the time on MSN with my best friend who was saying: “GO TO HOSPITAL!” and my husband saying: “I’m not sure we should wait!” Hubby’s mum had been trying to get us to go to hospital from the previous night – “But if you go to hospital, doctors can look at her.” (like that would help!)
We waited: (stubborn old bint, me!). At 4.30 I phoned Scotland to say it was time to go in – mum had picked THIS day, of all days, to work an extra half hour. Aaagh!! Tried to hang on, but at 5pm realised we had to go. As we were getting our shoes on, the phone rang and we went back in to take it; it was indeed mum and I gasped and panted and told her we were on her way.
Part Two
We arrived at the hospital at 1710 on Tuesday 5th July; I was 4cm dilated; the contractions were regular and starting to hurt a bit more. After the checks, hubby and I were left alone to get on with things; we had TWO birthing suites to pace about it, including a ball, ensuite, hot tub. By six the contractions were every 4 minutes, but nonetheless we hobbled to the kaffistofa for some toast and orange juice as I realized this might be my last chance for a while and I tried not to groan too much in public! Then back to our birth suite to “labour” some more.
By 1930 I was in the bath and the pain was getting too much; we called the midwife, Edda, who massaged me through each contraction until it got unbearable and we got out for a check and some decisions on pain relief. All this took some time; I was only 5cm dilated – aaagh, 2.5 hours and only once centimeter; a little mental arithmetic left me very dejected; I could NOT go on with this. We tried gas and air which worked a bit for a little while and then I just couldn’t breath any more; I felt I was suffocating. And I thought this was going to continue for another 12.5 hours! I said to Edda: “Now, I would like to change my birth plan to read: ‘At the first sign of maternal distress, a c-section should be offered.” Hadn’t lost my sense of humour, anyway.
CALL THE EPIDURAL MAN!!
Siggi (epidural man, henceforth known as St. Siggi) came in but it all takes some time to get organized and for it to take effect. I think the epidural went in about 10pm; we had a “test” dose and then the main whack which was to last for an hour and a half. I had to lie on my back to get it to take effect, but had no sooner got over than I was told to get on my hands an knees. “Don’t want to”… “no, but you have to,” “why?,” “the baby needs you to move.” OH CRAP! I heard her call Ragnheidur who, I knew was the obstetrician, so I also knew I HAD to get turned over. Not easy with an epidural and a very tired body. As soon as I was on my hands and knees, his heartbeat picked up and I heard Edda say to tell Ragnheidur not to bother coming. And that, my dear friends, was the most "worrying" part of the whole experience - no more than a few seconds.
And then…oh the BLISS. The absence of pain. What a blessing. I was so happy to get a nap, thinking when I woke up I would be ready to work some more.
Twenty minute nap and I could feel a little pressure in my vagina and… oops, waters went; told hubby. And then POP, SPLASH eruption of waters everywhere! The midwife came over and I said I was starting to feel the contractions again and she got ready to top up the epidural. I could feel pressure on my vagina, so I asked her just to check; I was sure it was just the waters, but would she just... you know…
Kieran was 2 inches away from delivery! Help! So, no more epidural for mum. I was soooo disappointed; “it’s not fair, I’m not ready; I want my nap; I shouldn’t have said anything till you were done.”
At 11pm, Edda was due to change shift, and Hulda took over; but Edda was sooooo sweet and stayed with me nonetheless. 11.10pm I was pushing. Oh my, was I pushing. Get it OUT!!
Kieran Logi arrived at 2341; 3.49kg, 50cm long and 35cm head circumference. My first words were (allegedly): “My God; I just had a baby. My baby.” Well, I still wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t all a “false labour” because I thought he would be late.
Hubby had been fantastic the whole way. He did exactly what I asked him when I asked him; he didn’t make “suggestions” and just held me when I needed held, picked me up when I needed to stand, helped me turn when I needed to turn, cleaned me up as and when required, and was all round a total star.
I don’t remember the first few minutes of his life; I think I just collapsed in a big heap of relief and exhaustion. I remember him being placed on my chest and suckling a little; Daddy cut the cord; Hulda poked and prodded and hurt me for an hour and we tried to turn Kieran round (I’ve no idea why) to suckle the other breast, but he didn’t want it. Still, it gave me something to concentrate on as I got a grand total of 3 stitches; all in the vagina. Perineum intact and not a single pile J (These things matter, trust me!)
Kieran had his checks, hubby was shown how to clean him (I think; I couldn’t even turn over to watch.) I got offered something to eat: “what would you like?” I was asked – “A big plate of hubby’s creamy pasta.” “Hmmm… well, we have some toast.” “OK, I’ll have the toast then.”
After a 25 minute second stage, it then took me about 40 to go for my first pee! I couldn’t stop shaking but was also extremely dizzy (something that didn’t pass till well into Thursday). They wheeled the bed to me, because I couldn’t manage to walk back to bed in a new ward with a bed also for hubby. Kieran was placed between us, I fell into what seemed like a coma and hubby nipped home to make the calls; when he came back, I sat awake for an hour just looking at Kieran; he was so beautiful and I couldn’t believe he was here. Still can’t.
The next day, Hulda told me that she could have pulled him out with her hands, no need even for an episiotomy; I replied: “Why didn’t you? Why did you make me push?!!”
Now we are all very very well; we went our first walk yesterday; my milk is here (oh, if it is HERE! already experienced my first blocked duct, ow ow ow ow ow, but now I know how to express. We already have one full bottle in the freezer and have expressed more than the same again just to throw away for my own relief.) But that is settling down. Kieran is sleeping very well in his carry cot and for the last 2 nights only wakes to feed. Hope it lasts!
We are all soooooooooooooooooooooo happy and proud and delighted; Grandma (Scottish) is here; Grandpa (Scottish) comes on Tuesday; Italian nonni arrive on the 18th (they had prebooked their tickets, assuming a birth around the 19th).
OF COURSE you will hear lots more about us J
Meanwhile, I cannot say enough positive things about the FANTASTIC maternity care here, especially with helping me learn to breastfeed and a simply personal service: my midwife staying beyond her shift to help deliver Kieran and an obstetrician I hadn’t seen since all the early post- bleeding scans popping in the next day with his congratulations.
One very very proud and delighted expatmamma
Kieran Logi, 4 days, 11 hours and 40 minutes.
Kieran was due on the 14th of July, but mummy and daddy expected him to be much later. On the 30th of June, he had shown no interest in engaging. On Sunday the 3rd of July, mum and dad were having dinner with friends and saying: “he isn’t coming any time soon.”
At 6am on Monday 4th, Kieran decided to prove us wrong. I had a show and went into a total panic mode! (“But we don’t have… a, b, c…. yet.”). Dad kept a bit calmer and got things together. Mum had some occasional twinges during the day, but by evening was having contractions every five minutes – but not sore ones. We phoned the hospital and were invited to come in to see if this really was the start of something, or just Braxton Hicks. I thought they weren’t Braxton Hicks, but I also didn’t believe that Kieran was willing to enter the world just yet.
The midwife confirmed 1cm dilation and the 5 minute contractions; we were invited to stay but decided to go home. I got about 2 hours sleep, because of the contractions (less frequent, but still not sore).
Mum got about 2 hours sleep and on Tuesday we realised that Kieran wouldn’t wait. But I was still in denial and didn’t want to announce my labour to find it was in fact a false alarm. We went a walk together and I bought a nursing bra (item b on the not got yet list!). We met a colleague and a student, with whom I discussed Turkish Cypriot property law.
By late afternoon, the contractions were getting sore, and I needed to moan through them. They were becoming more regular by about 4 o’clock; at one point every 5 minutes, but then back to 7-8. We realized it was time to go to hospital but I wanted to call my mum who would get home from work at 4.30 our time; we waited and waited; all the time on MSN with my best friend who was saying: “GO TO HOSPITAL!” and my husband saying: “I’m not sure we should wait!” Hubby’s mum had been trying to get us to go to hospital from the previous night – “But if you go to hospital, doctors can look at her.” (like that would help!)
We waited: (stubborn old bint, me!). At 4.30 I phoned Scotland to say it was time to go in – mum had picked THIS day, of all days, to work an extra half hour. Aaagh!! Tried to hang on, but at 5pm realised we had to go. As we were getting our shoes on, the phone rang and we went back in to take it; it was indeed mum and I gasped and panted and told her we were on her way.
Part Two
We arrived at the hospital at 1710 on Tuesday 5th July; I was 4cm dilated; the contractions were regular and starting to hurt a bit more. After the checks, hubby and I were left alone to get on with things; we had TWO birthing suites to pace about it, including a ball, ensuite, hot tub. By six the contractions were every 4 minutes, but nonetheless we hobbled to the kaffistofa for some toast and orange juice as I realized this might be my last chance for a while and I tried not to groan too much in public! Then back to our birth suite to “labour” some more.
By 1930 I was in the bath and the pain was getting too much; we called the midwife, Edda, who massaged me through each contraction until it got unbearable and we got out for a check and some decisions on pain relief. All this took some time; I was only 5cm dilated – aaagh, 2.5 hours and only once centimeter; a little mental arithmetic left me very dejected; I could NOT go on with this. We tried gas and air which worked a bit for a little while and then I just couldn’t breath any more; I felt I was suffocating. And I thought this was going to continue for another 12.5 hours! I said to Edda: “Now, I would like to change my birth plan to read: ‘At the first sign of maternal distress, a c-section should be offered.” Hadn’t lost my sense of humour, anyway.
CALL THE EPIDURAL MAN!!
Siggi (epidural man, henceforth known as St. Siggi) came in but it all takes some time to get organized and for it to take effect. I think the epidural went in about 10pm; we had a “test” dose and then the main whack which was to last for an hour and a half. I had to lie on my back to get it to take effect, but had no sooner got over than I was told to get on my hands an knees. “Don’t want to”… “no, but you have to,” “why?,” “the baby needs you to move.” OH CRAP! I heard her call Ragnheidur who, I knew was the obstetrician, so I also knew I HAD to get turned over. Not easy with an epidural and a very tired body. As soon as I was on my hands and knees, his heartbeat picked up and I heard Edda say to tell Ragnheidur not to bother coming. And that, my dear friends, was the most "worrying" part of the whole experience - no more than a few seconds.
And then…oh the BLISS. The absence of pain. What a blessing. I was so happy to get a nap, thinking when I woke up I would be ready to work some more.
Twenty minute nap and I could feel a little pressure in my vagina and… oops, waters went; told hubby. And then POP, SPLASH eruption of waters everywhere! The midwife came over and I said I was starting to feel the contractions again and she got ready to top up the epidural. I could feel pressure on my vagina, so I asked her just to check; I was sure it was just the waters, but would she just... you know…
Kieran was 2 inches away from delivery! Help! So, no more epidural for mum. I was soooo disappointed; “it’s not fair, I’m not ready; I want my nap; I shouldn’t have said anything till you were done.”
At 11pm, Edda was due to change shift, and Hulda took over; but Edda was sooooo sweet and stayed with me nonetheless. 11.10pm I was pushing. Oh my, was I pushing. Get it OUT!!
Kieran Logi arrived at 2341; 3.49kg, 50cm long and 35cm head circumference. My first words were (allegedly): “My God; I just had a baby. My baby.” Well, I still wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t all a “false labour” because I thought he would be late.
Hubby had been fantastic the whole way. He did exactly what I asked him when I asked him; he didn’t make “suggestions” and just held me when I needed held, picked me up when I needed to stand, helped me turn when I needed to turn, cleaned me up as and when required, and was all round a total star.
I don’t remember the first few minutes of his life; I think I just collapsed in a big heap of relief and exhaustion. I remember him being placed on my chest and suckling a little; Daddy cut the cord; Hulda poked and prodded and hurt me for an hour and we tried to turn Kieran round (I’ve no idea why) to suckle the other breast, but he didn’t want it. Still, it gave me something to concentrate on as I got a grand total of 3 stitches; all in the vagina. Perineum intact and not a single pile J (These things matter, trust me!)
Kieran had his checks, hubby was shown how to clean him (I think; I couldn’t even turn over to watch.) I got offered something to eat: “what would you like?” I was asked – “A big plate of hubby’s creamy pasta.” “Hmmm… well, we have some toast.” “OK, I’ll have the toast then.”
After a 25 minute second stage, it then took me about 40 to go for my first pee! I couldn’t stop shaking but was also extremely dizzy (something that didn’t pass till well into Thursday). They wheeled the bed to me, because I couldn’t manage to walk back to bed in a new ward with a bed also for hubby. Kieran was placed between us, I fell into what seemed like a coma and hubby nipped home to make the calls; when he came back, I sat awake for an hour just looking at Kieran; he was so beautiful and I couldn’t believe he was here. Still can’t.
The next day, Hulda told me that she could have pulled him out with her hands, no need even for an episiotomy; I replied: “Why didn’t you? Why did you make me push?!!”
Now we are all very very well; we went our first walk yesterday; my milk is here (oh, if it is HERE! already experienced my first blocked duct, ow ow ow ow ow, but now I know how to express. We already have one full bottle in the freezer and have expressed more than the same again just to throw away for my own relief.) But that is settling down. Kieran is sleeping very well in his carry cot and for the last 2 nights only wakes to feed. Hope it lasts!
We are all soooooooooooooooooooooo happy and proud and delighted; Grandma (Scottish) is here; Grandpa (Scottish) comes on Tuesday; Italian nonni arrive on the 18th (they had prebooked their tickets, assuming a birth around the 19th).
OF COURSE you will hear lots more about us J
Meanwhile, I cannot say enough positive things about the FANTASTIC maternity care here, especially with helping me learn to breastfeed and a simply personal service: my midwife staying beyond her shift to help deliver Kieran and an obstetrician I hadn’t seen since all the early post- bleeding scans popping in the next day with his congratulations.
One very very proud and delighted expatmamma
Kieran Logi, 4 days, 11 hours and 40 minutes.
posted by ex_pat @ 2:03 AM
1 Comments:
At 9:40 PM,
Joy Cassidy said…
You know how we all feel here! I'm a big sentimental pile of mush and CJC couldn't be more thrilled. Meanwhile, Boo is looking forward to the day he and Kieran can chase each other round the garden!! - Well, perhaps I'm looking forward to that, but he'll enjoy it when the time comes.
Hang on in there and welcome to the next stage of this wonderful journey. Isn't it funny how all those maternal instincts you never thought you had just appear as if by magic. Motherhood is an amazing and privileged experience, the most rewarding job in the world and I wish you and Hubbie all the luck in the world. Kieran is one lucky fella!!
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