"Water? No thanks.." mumbled Yasir. I almost laughed hysterically.
"I'm not offering you water lah! MY water broke!!" I half laughed and half screamed. Finally, it registered on Yasir's mind what I was trying to tell him and he found the 'call for nurse' button on the remote next to him. Within seconds the nurse came into the room, and we told her my water broke, so two nurses fetched me the wheelchair and said they were going to wheel me into the labour room pronto. They helped me onto the wheelchair, all the while liquid still gushing out in between my legs and spilling onto the floor. I don't know why, but I apologised profusely to the nurses, feeling a little embarrassed that I was causing such a mess and they responded warmly, "Takpe..biasalah tu," with a smile on their faces.
Once in the labour room, one of the nurses handed me a fresh gown and said I could change out of my drenched gown. So I went to the toilet in a dreamlike state, took off my old gown and saw the light blood stains on them, feeling a bit irked by the sight. Changed into a new gown and felt more comfortable, but as soon as I got onto the bed, I started leaking again. I wondered when my water would run out. And another thought that crossed my mind was Ayden and if he was okay without all that water to cushion him anymore. The nurse told me to try and get some rest, while we wait for me to further dilate. Yasir got out his laptop and put on the 'Labour of love' playlist I had prepared earlier to help me relax. It did help a bit, as soothing songs from Sade, Corinne Bailey Rae and Billie Holiday filled the labour room, as I breathed through my contractions that seemed to intensify with each minute. They were very uncomfortable but still bearable at that point. But because I'd heard of stories of women who asked for their epidural too late, I wanted to get it done and over with because I had made up my mind beforehand that I was going to get through my labour as comfortable as I possibly could.
Around 7am as my contractions got more and more intense, we finally called for my epidural. A female doctor came into the room and made me sign what looked like an agreement, to acknowledge the risks that came with agreeing to an epidural. I skimmed through the sheet of paper, trying not to freak myself out, all the while praying to God for everything to go well, glancing nervously as the nurses set up everything for my epidural. After signing the agreement, the doctor explained to me the procedure, step by step. I sat up on the bed, gown open at the back, clutching a pillow. "I need you to hunch to the front, let your body hang limply, so I can find a nice spot for the needle. I need you to relax, okay 'Aainaa," she instructed me firmly, but in a kind tone. At that point I was still experiencing pretty intense contractions, and with every 'peak', what was left of my amniotic fluid still gushed out in between my legs. Relax Aainaa, relax, I repeated to myself in my mind over and over, struggling a little to do so.
"Okay, I'm going to insert the needle now, you will feel a pinch, but I need you to stay still and try not to make any sudden moves when you feel it."
Here we go. I felt a slight sting as the needle went in, all the while reminding myself to hunch over. The needle going in was a bearable pain, but feeling the the tube (or whatever it was) going through my spine caused me to flinch, as my body automatically 'jumped' from the sensation. Yasir was a good distraction to me the whole time, because I focused on him. Finally, it was done. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thinking that I could finally relax, a nurse began setting up another tube. "What's that for?" I asked nervously. "Ni in case you need to kencing, because you can't go to the toilet," she answered.
Ohmygod, that tube was going into my pee hole.
Having a tube shoved into your you-know-where is NOT a pleasant experience. In my opinion, it felt worse than having the epidural. It wasn't about the pain, it was just the most uncomfortable, ngilu feeling. I clenched Yasir's hand and grit my teeth throughout the whole thing.
After that was over, I laid back onto my bed and felt the contractions become milder and milder. "Rest, sayang. Get some sleep," Yasir said to me. He closed the curtains and I felt myself drifting in and out of sleep.
Honestly, throughout the rest of my labour, I cannot remember how many times a nurse came in to check how far along I was dilated. I lost count at one point. And every single time I was checked, I found myself tensing up more and more as different fingers shoved deep inside me and felt for the baby's head and the opening of my cervix. And with every 'check', I felt frustrated because I had barely made progress. I was dilating so, so slowly. It took me a good few hours just to dilate a centimeter. By afternoon, I was only dilated around 4 centimeters. I prayed that my labour would speed up, reaching for Ayden's onezie every now and then. Hang on little guy, I'm going to see you soon, I channeled my thoughts to Ayden.
The hours rolled by as I drifted in and out of consciousness, and my contractions started to intensify, even with epidural. My family had gathered outside the labour room by 4pm, thinking I would be delivering any minute. Friends bbm-ed me asking if I was in labour. It was a flurry of nurses coming in and out, checking to see how far along I was, and me getting disappointed every single time. With every hour that passed by, my body and mind started feeling more and more tired. Yasir was so lovely, barely leaving my side. My mother accompanied me most of the time too, and I knew my family members were outside supporting me and giving me courage.
Close to 7pm, I was around 8cm dilated. I thought to myself, I was induced at 8pm the previous day, and here I am almost a day later, still in labour. Ya Allah... But by then, that was the least of my worries. I started developing a fever then. A nurse came in and gave me a shot of antibiotics through the drip on my hand, which was unexpectedly super painful. By then, I felt like I was a science experiment as I was poked and prodded, all the while with ongoing contractions for what seemed like an ETERNITY. I just want to hold my baby, please God let this all be over soon, I prayed.
Then my doctor, Dr Paul dropped a bomb on me. He looked at Ayden's heartbeat on the monitor and had this worried look on his face. "Aainaa, because you have a fever, your baby is developing a fever too. His heartbeat isn't looking good." he explained seriously, and all I could hear was 'fever', 'heartbeat not looking good' over and over, while he continued to say something about Ayden being at risk from catching pneumonia. Pneumonia.
This has got to be a nightmare. I felt the panic rising in my chest, as my tired mind wrapped around the fact the fact that Ayden's heartbeat was slowing down. That was the last thing any mother in labour needed to hear. God, I just want him to be okay. I just want my baby boy to be safe. Please God please, I pleaded silently. Somehow I calmed myself down because I knew stressing myself out would make things worse for Ayden. Dr. Paul checked my opening again and said I was dilated 9cm, and that Ayden's head was "just there".
"Aainaa, we've got to get your baby delivered now, we can't wait any longer because of his heartbeat. We'll try pushing normally, with episiotomy and vacuum. If not, we have no choice but to get him out by a c-section," said Dr. Paul. I just managed to nod, and saw the nurses get everything ready for Ayden, taking out a weighing scale and other tools for the delivery.
The moment I had been waiting for, for the past nine months had finally arrived - it was time to push.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Sloppy kisses,
'Aainaa
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