Battered And Torn

THE JOURNEY BEGINS Our baby was due in July 1987 and everything in the pregnancy was going well. On 14 February 1987 we moved into a new home. My sister Valentina and I cleaned the house, while the men placed the furniture into the rooms. I was excited to be in a new house, it was much larger than our previous home and it was going to be the place where we would have our children. I could picture the children playing in the garden, climbing the many trees out there and having enough space for all of us. Our new house was also one street away from my sister, who had two children, so our children would be able to play side by side and grow up together. A few days later, I began to experience pains in my lower back. Initially, I thought this was as a result of the exertions of moving house, but the pains became so bad, that I began to wonder if there was a problem. I spoke to my sister Tina, who is a qualified midwife, living in Texas, and she informed me that they could be Braxton Hicks contractions and that I should call the doctor just to be sure that there were no problems with the pregnancy. I called the doctor, who was an out-of-hours doctor and therefore not my normal GP. He came and examined me. I can still recall to this day his abrupt bedside manner. He advised me to go to the hospital for a more detailed examination, saying that I was probably having contractions and that if I should deliver at this stage I would miscarry. Great! What a way to reassure a first time mother-to-be. I went to the hospital and was immediately examined. The doctor checked my cervix and told me that I had not dilated – in other words I was not in the early stages of labour – but that the pains were indeed contractions. I was told to rest up for a few days. This I did, and within two weeks, things were back to normal and I went back to work. My maternity leave was due to start on 18 May. I took two weeks annual leave, prior to the commencement of my nine months maternity leave. During this time, I really did not do much in the way of shopping for my baby. I knew that he/she was not due until July, so I planned to wait until the end of May before completing my shopping. At the beginning of the second week of my annual leave, I began to have the same pains/contractions, which I had experienced in February. I endured these pains for the entire week. However, by the Saturday the pains had become so intense, I decided that I had better go to the hospital and get it checked out. The doctor examined me and said that although my cervix had not dilated, there was a possibility that I was suffering from an infection and that it would be best for me to stay in hospital. Well, I told my husband that I wanted to go home. He advised me that it would be best to stay in the hospital, so reluctantly, I agreed. I was told to drink plenty of water in order to flush out the infection. This I did. But when you drink water, it has to go somewhere. I was consuming so much water, that I had to keep going to the toilet. I remember one nurse saying to her colleague, ‘Poor thing, that infection is really keeping her up.’ Hello! It was the water, not the infection! Suffice to say, between the pain and the water, very little sleep was had. Anyway, Sunday morning came and I had breakfast. The doctor came to see me and enquired as to how I was feeling. I told him that I was fine – I lied! I did not want to stay in the hospital; I just wanted to go home. The doctor decided to check the pregnancy before allowing me to go home. When he examined me, he said to me that I had dilated two centimetres and that I was not going anywhere. Well, I was shocked and surprised. Our baby was not due until July – six weeks away, yet I still wanted to go home. It was my first pregnancy and I did not know what to expect at this stage. The hospital telephoned my husband and told him that I was in the early stages of labour. I was comforted to know that our baby was a good size and that the prognosis for survival was very good. When Lynbert arrived, it was good to see him; I needed his support. He was very surprised to hear that our baby was going to be born early – he was still in the process of knocking out the living room wall and there was dust everywhere. Not a good time to go into labour! As Sunday morning progressed into Sunday evening, I had only dilated a further two centimetres and it appeared as if it was going to be a slow process. I did not know what to expect or how I would cope with the labour. I had only had two antenatal classes, and I had not yet been shown how to go through the birthing process. All I could think was that this was going to be an interesting birth. Lynbert left and went home at about 9.00 p.m. Shortly after he left, I went to the toilet and yes you’ve guessed it, my waters broke. The hospital immediately telephoned Lynbert and told him that I had gone into labour. This was about 10.30 p.m. Due to the fact that my baby would be born prematurely, the doctors would not allow me to have any painkilling injections. I was only allowed gas and air. I remember looking at the monitor and as I saw those numbers increase, so did the pain! The gas and air did very little to mask the pain, however, by 2.34 a.m. our beautiful baby daughter was born, weighing in at 4lb 2oz. Due to her premature arrival, the doctor did not want her head to be pushing against the cervix and so I was given an episiotomy (a small incision on the neck of the cervix). This enabled her to come out of the birthing canal without any head trauma. Even though it was a relatively short labour, I can still remember the pain – and the stitches.