Written on Wednesday 17 July, 1996
The day actually begins at 5am on Thursday 11th July, when Mandy had a 'false' labour. We were convinced that this was the real thing until the contractions died down. We had quite an active day, among other things baking a decorative wheat-sheaf as a wedding present for Fiona, my sister, and Peter who were to get married on Saturday.
Thursday would therefore have been quite a long day itself if we had managed to sleep when we went to bed, at about eleven. Mandy had, however, experienced a few twinges from about ten o'clock and it became pretty apparent after being in bed a little while that contractions were starting for real.
We waited until I think about three before calling the midwife, who came out quickly. The midwife checked the contractions (Mandy did not get very much use out of the timing program which I insisted on writing between about one and three am) and we began to fill the birthing pool. We shut the cats in the utility room, but they worked out how to make a terrific noise with the cat-flap so we had to move them to an upstairs room. Mandy got into the pool when the midwife said that she could. She found this really helped with the pain, especially when the hot water tank had warmed up again and we were able to fill the pool so that Mandy could properly float.
When she was first examined, Mandy was disappointed that she was only 3cm dilated. Within two hours of being in the pool, however, she had got to 7cm. I believe that this is about twice as fast as average.
By about half past seven, the midwife decided that it was a decent enough hour to call the midwives who had been visiting us over the past few weeks. When they arrived, we ended up with five midwives in the house.
Mandy was coping really well with the pain, although she did manage to exhaust the midwives' supply of gas and air! She had quite a period with no pain relief but the water while one of them went to get some more.
When labouring in a pool, you are not usually encouraged to push - the baby normally comes out quite quickly. An hour after the midwives had said that Mandy was fully dilated, however, there was no sign of a birth. They did not want to leave Mandy in the pool for too long and so they encouraged her to push a little. There was still no sign, however, and the decision was taken to get Mandy out of the pool and onto the bed. The midwives got her to push as hard as she could for a long time, but the baby did not want to come out. It must have been a bit before eleven o'clock when they decided that Mandy would have to go to hospital.
For the last few minutes before the ambulance arrived, Mandy and the rest of us knew this would be her last chance to have the baby at home and we were all trying to get her to push as hard as possible. She had, however, at this point, not had any sleep for about thirty hours and had been in serious labour for about twelve. The contractions were slowing down and we all assumed that she was just too tired to push the baby out.
When the ambulance arrived, all hell broke loose, with people dashing about everywhere. My mind went blank, I couldn't even remember where I had put the camera film, but a midwife managed to grab a couple of things for Mandy and the baby. I let the cats have the run of the house and Mandy was wheeled out on a stretcher.
We had a flashing blue light trip to Sharoe Green hospital in Preston, with Mandy nearly rolling off the stretcher as we went around corners.
When we arrived, they hooked Mandy up to a drip with a drug to encourage the contractions. The hospital midwife examined Mandy and said that in fact the baby was facing the wrong way (he was head down, but facing forwards) and Mandy was not quite fully dilated. This was why all of the pushing earlier on had not worked. It was probably another two hours before the midwife wanted Mandy to push again. By this point she was really exhausted and I think we were both unsure how she was going to get through. She really needed the gas and air for every contraction, but when the midwife asked her to push, she said that she should try without the gas and air so that she could push all the harder. It was agony for me just to see the pain that she was in. I cannot even imagine what it was like for her. She would use what seemed like her last ounce of energy to push the baby, only for it to slip back again. This happened over and over.
Mandy must have been pushing this time for at least half an hour, probably more like an hour. The midwife was monitoring the baby's heartbeat with a sensor on Mandy's stomach and everything seemed fine, but the sensor kept losing touch. The midwife wanted to put a scalp clip on the baby's head to monitor it, but Mandy refused. Although she had been planning a home birth, she had read about these sensors, which have to be screwed into the baby's head while it is still inside.
Just before the birth it seems that the baby's heart rate dropped suddenly. The midwife knew that it was necessary to get it out as soon as possible. I think that she had been considering a forceps delivery, but there was not time. In a great flurry of activity, she gave Mandy an episiotomy (a cut to make the escape route for the baby a bit bigger) and with one final round of pushes Mandy managed to get the baby out. This was ten past two in the afternoon. I just had time to see that the baby was a boy (Mandy claims I said it at least twice) before the cord was cut and he was rushed over to the other side of the room, where he was surrounded by at least four people. He was really blue and his head was very distended from all of the pushing.
There was a period of about ten minutes of feverish activity, while we were not really told what was going on. They told us then that John had not been breathing at birth and that they were now giving him oxygen by a tube.
They them wheeled him off to the neo-natal unit and Mandy told me to go with him - I was torn between the two of them, wanting to stay with Mandy to comfort her, but also needing to know what was happening to John. As it was, the doctors decided for me because just about as soon as they got him to the neo-natal unit they sent me away. I just had time to see him make one lone attempt at taking a breath before they ushered me out. I went back to Mandy, but wasn't able to give her any real news. A nurse told us that they would tell us when anything happened, but it was still about an hour and a half before they came to say that he had started breathing on his own and that I could go to see him.
I can't really remember how I felt when I saw him hooked up to all the monitors, with a perspex hood over his head feeding him oxygen. I was so relieved that he had made it this far, but terrified about what was going to happen.
I went back to see Mandy (getting a little lost on the way) and we waited while people came to give her stitches and a bath. She was desperate to see John, but they kept saying "Yes, we'll just ..." and then disappearing for half an hour. It was probably about six o'clock before she got to see him again.
We stayed a little while and then they brought Mandy up to the ward. We arranged for her mum and dad to come and see her and I rang my mum to get her to pick me up, so that I could go and pick up some things for her. We also rang my dad to let him know what had happened. Until this point, no-one knew that Mandy had even gone into labour.
On the way out, we went down to see John, who looked somewhat better. I think that they had at this point taken off his oxygen hood. I went back up to tell Mandy this.
My mum dropped me at home for me to collect the things I was going to take for Mandy. Fiona was at mum's house, and mum said that she would bring her round before I left. As soon as I got in, I broke down with the tension and I think I had only just wiped away the tears and grabbed a few things before mum came back with Fiona. We talked briefly and then I rushed back to the hospital, arriving just as Mandy's Mum and Dad left. Mum had asked me what I was most worried about - was it the risk of brain damage? I said yes, but after thinking about it I have realised that it was just the thought that he might not make it at all. I am sure that we can cope and that we will love him intensely, however he turns out.
The midwife came in and said that she would show Mandy how to use Daisy - the machine for expressing breastmilk. John was on a dextrose drip, but they said that Mandy should try to keep her milk production up and that he would be able to use it when he was feeding. I put the TV on for Mandy to watch Friends while she was using the machine and went home. The midwife did not return to Mandy until eleven - Mandy can't really remember Friends and had fallen asleep after fifteen minutes of Frasier. When she finally did get to use the machine, Mandy was a bit disheartened that she only got about three millilitres, but they had said that every little helps and she went down to put it into the fridge and to see John.
When I got home I called dad again, fed the cats and so on and got myself in bed.