The Real Thing???

Where was I? Oh yeah, how could I forget, V weeing on my favourute chair :)
 
Fortunately, I had, some two days earlier, attended a superb DaddyNatal class in London. The class is run by Dean (see my previous post for details) and the sesson was held in a pub, during the London riots - despite that I found it undoubtedly the best thing I had done in preparation for the arrival of our package.
 
V was panicking and understandably upset, I calmed her down and helped her upstairs to the bathroom where we stood her in the bath, wimpering. We both knew that it was her waters that had broken, and not that she had wet herself. I re-assured her that waters breaking does not mean that she will go in to labour immediately – unlike on TV – and that everything was fine. However, she was still six weeks away from our due date, this may not seem long in the grand scheme of things, but it is a lifetime away if it happens to you.
 
When V had calmed down a bit I called the laboutr ward and explained what had happened. They recommended we came in to be examined ASAP to check the state of play.
 
Luckily I had made V pack her hospital bag and a bag for baby a week before – call it paranoia but I wanted to be well prepared in case anything like this did happen – lucky I did!
 
We set off to our local hospital, Princess Royal University Hospital in Locks Bottom, Kent. Contrary to how I thought it would be, it was a serene drive, V was still upset and constantly checking that I thought everything was ok – I reassured her that it was – but other than that there was no road rage, no traffic issues and we even got parked in the hospital car park.
 
We walked, well, V squelched, across to the maternity day unit and were redirected up to the labour ward by a nice nurse. Upon arrival we were advised that there were a couple of emergencies but we would be seen as soon as they could fit us in. We sat down in the waiting room alongside an expectant uncle and the most bored expectant older brother (about 4yrs old?)! Luckily for V, Hollyoaks was on the TV in the waiting area!
 
I was charged with updating the future grandparents on what was happening. We had called V’s mum on the way to hospital and she determined we were making it all up! My mum was pretty much the same! Anyway, I had done my duty and kept them informed. Now back to waiting for a midwife.
 
… and waiting…
 
… and waiting…
 
When we were eventually seen at about 8.30pm (V having left work at 4.30pm) the midwife was really apologetic and moved us in to an assessment room. At first I think they thought V had had a slight leak, until they saw the maternity pad and then re-thought things! SROM was written down – beign a rugby player with a several times operated shoulder I knew this to be “Standard Range of Movement” – wrong! SROM is “Sudden Rupture of Membranes” – 1-0 to the midwfe! Although I did wonder what range of movement they were examining!!!!
 
Following inspection it was confirmed that although V’s waters had broken, her cervix as closed and she was not in labour. They carried out a scan and the little one was fine, bobbing around – albeit in slighlty less water than before. We were warned that labour can sometimes occur within 24 to 48 hours of waters breaking but not for everyone. We were assured that 6 weeks early is not a terrible risk and that babies are pretty much fully developed by now anyway.
 
Then came a moment when I let V down a bit, I had approached everything so far with calmness and support, but this caught me off guard. I had read that steroids are given to mothers when premature labour commences in order to help babies lungs develop. Fine, no problem. Then they advised that the injection is in the butt cheek! I have had so many and they bloody hurt – I couldn’t stop myself from wincing at the thought of the jab in the arse cheek. Not a major failure you might think but probably one I should have forseena nd dealt with better ;)
 
V was told that the biggest concern now was that as her waters had broken, there was an increased risk of infection, which could travel up to our baby. V was admitted to the labour ward for two days to see what would happen.
 
The only bed available was in a private room – bonus – but it had no TV and was like an oven – bummer. I settled V in, went off to the local shop and bought her enough snacks and magazines to keep her occupied. I sat with her until I was kicked out at about 10pm and left her feeling sorry for herself in her little room.
 
V had a hard night, the window in the room didn’t open and she was being baked slowly, she was also bored stiff so had been in communication by text most of the night.
 
The next morning, a Friday, I called in to my office and advised them I needed to take the day off and explained what was going on. They were really good and told me to just keep them informed and wished me luck.
 
Friday was a boring day for V too. She had a couple of visitors but was still in her room with no TV. She was also opposite the “induction room” so was watching other expectant mums going in there and moving on to the delivery suite after several hours.
 
We were told by a doctor that V would now being staying in for 5 days – which upset her as she wanted to be home and the baby still wasn’t due for six weeks!
 
Everything that we were told at the hospital, I called up Dean and discussed with him. He was excellent and explained why certain things were being done and what they we could expect them to do next. It was like having our own personal midwife there 24/7 and I can never thank him enough for that.
 
V was told that if nothing happened naturally with the baby, they would try to get her to 27 weeks and then induce her. Now, I had heard some bad things about Pitocin, the synthetic form of Oxytocin and drug they use to induce pregnancy. I’ll cover it in another post but I was quite adamant that I didn’t want V to have Pitocin.
 
Again I discussed things with Dean and he kept reminding me that whatever happened was our choice. Unless it was a medical emergency, we would have the final say on how to proceed with things. This was re-assuring as I knew we could take the time to discuss things before making a rash decision.
 
V was moved on to a ward with four beds in it, I think it saved her sanity to see other people and she finally got her TV! People came and went during visiting hours and still no change on the labour front.
 
The consultant from the PRUH (our hospital) was off sick and V was seen by another consultant from a partner hospital. It turns out the partner hospital have totally different procedures to our hospital and several times the consultant and other doctors stood at the end of V’s bed and argued about how to proceed. In the partner hospital, anyone over 33 weeks would be induced, at our hospital they would not consider it until at least 37 weeks. They would pull the curtain across and then argue behind it (who knew that fabric wasn’t soundproof!
 
Eventually, after no movement at all, V was told she could come home on the Monday night – 15th September – so long as we returned every other day for urine tests to check for infection.
 
So, bags re-packed, home we headed.