A Labour Of Love….

I had an epidural….

After two very straight forward and quick births, Regan a four hour active labour and Jesse two hours start to finish, it came as a slight surprise to me that at 6pm last night, after getting to the hospital at 2pm, I still didn’t have my baby in my arms, nor was he anywhere close to being there. 

Gone were the visions of a mental dash to the hospital, the baby barely holding on in until we got to a delivery room; gone was the realisation that, had there not been anyone around to have the boys and Rhys would have to stay with them, I’d be ‘fine on my own’ (in fact, of all three, I could not have done without him throughout this one). However, in all of this, there was one definite.. the pain of this labour was getting worse! 

I’m pretty sure it’s routine in France for women to have epidurals. I had a routine appointment with the anaesthetist at 36 weeks to go over everything for when the time came to have my baby, and I’d been met with sheer surprise that I hadn’t had an epidural on my last two deliveries. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’m not by any stretch averse to the idea but only if I definitely need one..’ again, I was licking my lips at the prospect that this labour would not last anywhere near long enough to warrant me needing one. I’d use gas and air, I thought to myself… job done.

However, when labour was in full swing, and as I pushed on through the centimetre dilation landmarks, enduring the horrendously deflating news that I was still as dilated as I’d been an hour and a half ago, I realised there was no sign of gas, air, pethadine or even paracetamol! I’m sure, at this point, it comes as no surprise the the word lurking at the back of my mind was growing stronger with every pain….’epiduralllll’ was all I could think. 

I eventually ‘gave in’ (‘giving in’ to what though, is the big question.. my ego? My pain? Who knows) and begged for the magic pain relief after my sister in law (through Rhys) encouraged me to try it as I’d feel as though I’d be ‘floating through the clouds’. That sealed it… and it was honestly the best decision I made. It took so long to set it all up that I was, it transpired, already 8cm by the time it was done but it just helped my whole body relax and, as such, my little Rèmi was born just 40 minutes after that first, beautiful painless contraction (and I did get a sort of repeat of the mad dash as the baby just about hung on for the midwives at the end to deliver him safely, but for any male readers, I’ll forgo the details).

Now I’m not sharing this tale simply as another birth sorry, which by the way I absolutely love to read, but simply as perhaps a small warning of the dangers of setting #InstaGoals. There are so so many mothers documenting on instagram who have managed to get through their entire labours using ‘hypnobirthing’ or other various, non medical ways of getting to the end.. Countless women have been able to get through their pain barriers with a canister of gas and air or half a shot of pethadine… I say half a shot because this was my particular badge of honour after having Regan… ‘I just had HALF a shot of pethadine with Regan’. And, honestly I cringe slightly now because before I asked for the epidural, all I could think of was my previous two experiences whereby I’d not needed one. I felt, if I’m honest, that I was giving up, taking the easy way out… as it were.. and as I sit here, next to my new baby, reflecting on my labour I’ve realised that what I did was neither of these, what I actually did was listen to my body and do the most sensible thing for it. I was an instantly different person after the injection into my back began to take affect. I was nicer to the midwife, I caught my breath for a bit, helping to ease the tiredness that was taking over and I even gave Rhys a smile. It gave me a little break before the unending task of being a mum began.

So my point it this… why on earth does how we get these babies out matter? What exactly had made me even bother to question whether I should or shouldn’t have an epidural? So when I talk about my natural labour I could add an #NaturalDelivery under his newborn picture? I really don’t know and, thankfully, I really don’t care. I am evidence that every labour is different, and even the most well wished, well imagined plans have a way of going by the wayside. I am now 100% certain that had my previous two labours lasted as long as this one (and in comparison to a lot of women, this wasn’t even that long), I would definitely have had an epidural before. In fact, when she was in labour, the same sister in law said she had no idea how I’d done it without an epidural and I did remind her that neither of mine had been long enough to warrant needing one.

I do know that, for childbirth in particular, there are unrealistic expectations for women but these are only expectations we set for ourselves. Take the England footballer Harry Kane, for example… he posted a picture of his wife and new baby a few months ago and said how proud he was of her completely pain relief free delivery. He received a lot of criticism for this post, with many calling him out for highlighting this fact as it made other women feel as if they were a failure for not emulating her experience. But why? Why shouldn’t he post about how proud he is of his wife? It doesn’t for one minute mean that anyone else has to try to do the same as she did. Each pregnancy, Labour and birth are as unique as the resulting baby, so how could any women possible try to do the same as another?

I am just entirely grateful that my baby, who at one point decided he didn’t like contractions anymore and resulted in a plummeting heart rate, is here, safe and sound and sleeping in a crib next to me. And so to all of you fortunate enough to be able to go through the amazing experience of childbirth, whether it be it with drugs, intervention, c-section or in your garden on your own whilst you document the whole thing to stream on YouTube (not me, obvs)..you are doing something amazing!

So wherever you are in your journey to becoming a mum, good luck, or well done. It doesn’t matter how you did it, what matters is that you did!