I would like to thank

[ailbhe]

(Posted by Rob on behalf of Ailbhe - She has seen the comments in the previous journal entries, messages sent to "rob at ossifrage dot net" will be printed out and brought to her in hospital).

The midwife who attended me throughout my pregnancy: Fiona.

The midwife who admitted me to the Birth Centre of the Royal Berks when I went in after the first 12 or so hours of labour. I have no idea what her name is. She gave me painkilling drugs and assurance that I wouldn't be sent home again until the baby was born.

The next midwife I dealt with, Sally, who told me that I wasn't being a wimp and that the "Braxton Hicks" I had, o so many weeks ago, were most likely actually Spurious Labour - so I was right, not crazy, and I *was* in early labour.

The next midwife I dealt with, who gave me more pethidine. She was working entirely alone that night; the other midwife on duty was off sick, they were very very busy, and she was definitely anti-opiates. She was also unimpressed with the pethidine, since the earlier dose left me in too much pain to sleep, but that's because she - like so many others - misunderestimated my pain threshold. By 1 am, not only did she agree to give me pethidine, but she sent me downstairs to the Labour Ward where I could be induced and given an epidural.

The first midwife I encountered in the Labour Ward, Trisha. She was a tower of businesslike strength, from saying "Yes you can, of course you can," repeatedly, to pinning me to the bed for the hour it took to get my epidural in (the anaesthetist was in theatre for the first 4 hours that we were downstairs). Her humour and sympathy got me and Rob through what was undoubtedly the worst part of the whole thing.

The first anaesthetist I encountered, a Dr Walsh, who inserted the thingy for my epidural. He spent an hour and three seperate tries doing it; the first one touched a nerve and set my leg on fire, causing me to scream; the second one I couldn't stay still through the contraction (they had to take my pain relief away while the epidural was being put in, leaving me with only gas and air); the third one worked, and he actually apologised for the hour he'd put me through. He also gave me loads of local anaesthetic and talked calmly to me throughout, and put up with my sarcasm (I believe at one point he told me to stay still, and I said that he could try staying still next time he'd been in labour over 24 hours and had no TENS machine). I like him a lot.

The midwife (Barbara) and student midwife (Cathy) who stayed with us for the longest single period of the labour, topping up my epidural, bringing Rob tea and toast, sending Rob for breakfast, sending him to get me peppermints to stop me throwing up (dint work, but nice try), putting me on a saline drip for my dehydration, moderating and regulating the syntocin drip when the contractions were coming too close together and too hard, dealing sympathetically with my catheter (loathesome thing) and continous whinging... During this period, my pain relief was continuous, and they also told me exactly how I was doing - what stage of labour, whether I was mis-estimating the strength of my contractions (I reliably detected them before the machine did until the epidural was quite far along), what the baby's heart-rate was. They also bathed my fevered brow with a cool cloth, and helped me to brush my teeth (oh, you can't imagine the joy of clean teeth). And got Rob the chance to nap for a couple of hours. This was the only period during the labour that I could sleep - I got an hour. Apparently I snored.

The final midwife I dealt with for the birth, who was firm but fair; she didn't top up my epidural quite as much, but she was very good about getting me pushing and keeping me pushing - to no avail, as it happens, but goodness did she try... Clare. She also came in to the theatre with us when that had to happen, and kept talking reassuringly to me. She also helped me put my nightie on after the event.

The Maternity Care Assistant who put my DVT socks on, got me into stirrups, got me into my theatre gown, got me out of my bra, all with an amount of tact and deft competence which meant I didn't even mind that he was male.

The second anaesthetist, Dr Wong, who was ceaselessly kind, informative, reassuring, kind, gentle, lovely, adorable, and took a great photo of the three of us just after Linnea was born. He made it possible for me to get through the sheer terror of an anticipated c-section without actually killing anyone. He was also great about saying, when I begged Rob not to leave me, that Rob was right there, and would be there all along (I really meant "Don't let them send you away," and I think Dr Wong knew that). He told me where Rob was on the few occasions Rob went out of sight, and where Linnea was when they took her away to check her after the birth. He also told us exactly what he was doing, and checked carefully with me that I was happy with the amount of pain relief I was getting. I love him.

It took until the obstetrician actually delivered the baby (venteuse) for me to be sure I wouldn't end up with a c-section. It would have been a bit much, after 37+ hours of hard work...

The midwife who took me into her care after the birth - Janet - who was infuriated with the obstetrician for removing my catheter when my legs still didn't work. She is on the night shift tonight and she remembers me.

A few others. I can't remember names for all of them. There's Val Rose, who was around for various stages of pre and post natal care - she's a midwife and she made me very comfortable. And Sarah Foot, who was kind and informative and sympathetic and helped me get to the shower and dealt with the big scary blood clot incident on Monday morning and got me a great breakfast and made my bed up with fresh sheets and found clean sheets for Linnea and apologised for waking me. And Fidelma, from Cavan, who gave me codeine and a warm fuzzy feeling and acquired a kettle for the patient's kitchen so that Rob could make me tea. Ivan the consultant who talked me through all I wanted to know about a blood transfusion before I had one. Annette the midwife who was so nice about administering the transfusion in spite of me being irrationally scared of any and all hospital procedures at that point. People who appeared when I was in enough pain or under enough drugs that I don't remember even meeting them, let alone what essential service they performed for me. Mary the staff nurse who gave me drugs and took my blood pressure and helped me when I almost collapsed in the corridor. The midwife who came to persuade me to stay an extra day because she thought I wasn't well enough to go home, and was surprised when I almost cried with relief at being able to stay a little longer (I was terribly afraid NHS resources would run out before I felt really well; you hear such awful stories).

Everyone we met assured us that I did brilliantly well - and I'm quite pleased to find that I don't resort to obscenity under stress - and Linnea seems to approve. I mean, she *looks* at me. And she lets me feed her. And she suffers her nappy to be changed. And she's just there, and perfect, and Linnea.

Comments

[radegund.livejournal.com]

I'm so glad to hear that you didn't have to have a c-section in the end. It really would have been a lot to handle on top of everything else. It's also good to know that decisions on how long you should stay in hospital are made on the basis of need, and not on some rigid schedule.

and I'm quite pleased to find that I don't resort to obscenity under stress

Heh. I resort to obscenity at the drop of a hat, so I don't imagine labour will be any different!

You rock. Babies rock. That is all.