Now if you haven’t already read the first part to this post, you probably should, or it will be like when you miss a week of Eastenders where you tune back in to a whole new bunch of cast members, the old vic has burnt down and pat butcher is dead.
So we can now gather that my experience of a c section wasn’t great, the recovery was horrific and I left you all wondering if I ever did start loving my kids. I can confirm I did! It was actually the day they BOTH decided to give me their first smile within an hour of each other. Something just clicked, everything fell into place, my eyes streamed hot salty tears and my heart just swelled for them. That day they obviously knew I had been struggling and those smiles were just what I needed and I will never ever forget those moments.
Going through that whole experience broke me, mentally and physically, but it was made a little easier by admitting how hard it all was; especially talking about how long it took me to feel that love for the girls. If anyone is in a similar position, just talk to someone. It’s normal, you’re normal, we are just all different and I promise you it will come in time.
This time around, when I found out it was twins again, I felt that dread that I’d have to have another section. I had resigned myself to it and accepted it but by the time my first consultant appointment came around at 20 weeks, she only went and said I could go with a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section) as long as the presenting twin was head down. Halle-fookin-lujah!
Low and behold, after four, yes FOUR false starts I finally went into labour naturally at 37 weeks exactly (term for twins). With the added bonus, twin numero one, now known as Roux, was presenting head down. At 2am we got to the hospital and my contractions decided to stop, so the midwives told me to have a nap and at 5am my waters broke. Now thats an experience all in itself, they just don’t stop, I went and sat on the toilet and they were still leaking with every move I made. So bizarre. Why do they not tell you these things? Anyway, boom contractions were back and I had some pain relief in the form of paracetamol (insert unimpressed emoji face here).
By 8am my contractions were coming in stronger and lasting longer, and by this point the paracetamol was just not cutting it, so I was offered gas and air. Wooooo that stuff is good. After having a giggle about me thinking I sounded like Cher it all got serious because that pain just got worse, and worse, and worse. Finally just before midday I was 10cm dilated and was told I could start to push.
Now. I have a bone to pick. The producers of One Born Every Minute make this stage seem a very short period of time. Maybe ten minutes maximum. And also every video I have watched on childbirth has stated that the baby makes its way down the birth canal before crowning and then exiting, yes? As in it makes its OWN way down the birth canal, I didn’t sign up for doing that bit myself. I was pushing for an hour and a half, an hour and a half to move what? 20cms? How long is a birth canal? It cant be that long. But JEEZ it felt like it! Shattered doesn't cut it, I know I'm dramatic at times but I was on the brink of death by pain at this point and it was too late for a fricking epidural.
Next came the crown and exit, god did it burnnnn! With a few more pushes ( as if I hadn't pushed enough) my little bowling ball head Roux entered the world, he was looking slightly grey due to having the cord wrapped round his neck but he soon got some colour and was passed straight to Daddy for cuddles. The doctor then pinned twin 2 (now known as Etti) into place while she was still in my uterus to make sure she didn’t flip around as she was head down too. My contractions stopped, so they broke her waters as they were still in tact. Within what felt like seconds she shot out of my vagina like a little cherub on a surf board with a huge gush of waters. Wow. Just wow.
Firstly, I was exhausted, and I was for at least a fortnight, my body was so physically weak I couldn’t walk for more than 5 minutes without wanting to collapse or break down and cry.
Down below felt RUINED. Completely and utterly ruined, like a punched lasagne. I had had a couple of stitches, but they felt so weird and every time I sat down I felt this horrible tugging sensation which was so so uncomfortable it made me cry. Weeing and pooing has been an experience I don’t even want to delve into so I’ll save you that reading because it was just YUCK.
I feel like I’ve only just started to feel more like myself in the last 3 weeks, and the babies are 9 weeks old today. Once again I thought I would have been strutting about with my gorgeous babies in their pretty bugaboo donkey but alas it was not happening. I’ve desperately been doing a million pelvic floor exercises every day in an attempt to resume some sort of normality down there, but I also feel emotionally scarred as well as the physical difference. I can’t even watch anything birth related anymore because it just reminds me of that pain, and all that pushing. So much pushing.
Now I just want to make an end note, by saying that please don’t think I’m ungrateful for my experience which medically was trouble free. I know I’m very lucky that it all went so well, and a lot of people unfortunately have very traumatic births, things can go wrong, and some ladies don’t even have that choice and desperately want a natural birth but can’t due to various reasons. But we all have a right to have a moan and our experiences are our experiences, we have to own it and not be afraid to talk about them. And please do tell me your birth stories! We love to hear from you.
So with that, I will conclude that neither method is for me. I’ve done them both, I have four beautiful children and I love each one unconditionally. But I shudder when people suggest I try again for “just one more”. No, just no. My husbands bits are going into early retirement (snip snip!) because I will not be birthing another child until the technology is in place to beam that bubba directly from my womb, into my arms. End of.