At my final consultants appointment with the baby still breech at 37 weeks, it was decided that a scheduled caesarean was the safest mode of delivery for both myself and baby sister.
So we’ve finally been given a date, and at 38 weeks and 6 days I’ll be bringing this little girl into the world with the help of a surgical team.
That date is 15th May.
And to say I’m scared is an understatement.
I had an emergency caesarean with Little London but the circumstances were so different that by the time I was taken into theatre I had sepsis and it was passing through the placenta to him. I felt so ill that I didn’t care what they did to me by that point as I kept passing out. Plus I had the epidural in, and I hadn’t felt any labouring pain for a while. I was just exhausted.
This time around I have time to think about how the surgery will feel. How my emotions will be. The fear I’ll have that morning as I walk myself to theatre. The sounds, the needles, the people surrounding me in masks, the pulling and tugging feeling that can be felt as they try and pull the baby out. The silence around the room when the baby arrives before it clears its airways. The feeling of being trapped on a table not able to move and missing all those first moments. And not even seeing her face before everyone else in the room has.
Today (two days before the surgery) I had a blood test just so they can make sure the theatre is stocked with the right blood should it be needed, and even that made me feel anxious. Of course I’m glad they were making sure to prep, but it still makes me anxious. I don’t want to need any extra blood, because that would mean the surgery not going so great. And of course I don’t like needles at all. In fact I turned into a chattering mess to the poor nurse doing my bloods today and started talking about the zika virus after trying to distract myself by reading a poster on the wall.
I’ve been having the occasional nightmare too which doesn’t help. All centred around my son. In the last dream, I had to go to a really important appointment, and after listening to everyone around me I decided to leave my son in bed alone in the morning. When I was at the appointment all I could think about was the fact he was going to wake up and call out for me (which he does every morning ‘mummy I’m awake now, it’s morning’) and I wouldn’t be there to go and get him. He’d cry and panic and just repeat mummy over and over again but no one would be there for him.
I know it’s my own fear about leaving him behind. So much so that I want to try and see if I can get a private room at the hospital if it means I can have him stay with me post birth.
If I can’t have him with me, I’d rather be left alone in the hospital and have Mr London Mum return to have him that night. In our hospital partners can stay over, and I would have given anything to have had Mr London Mum with me when I had Little London at St. Thomas’. I really needed those extra hands to help me. Post surgery with a new born isn’t an easy position to be in.
But this time around, I don’t want either of us to be away from Little London for too long. He’ll be staying with my parents the night before my surgery because we’ll have to head in early Monday morning.
Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t usually have an issue leaving him with my mum if I need to for a week or so, but this time I feel like I need him around me. I need to settle my own inner turmoil.
So tomorrow morning (Sunday), I take my final metformin pill for the gestational diabetes. At 10pm I take the first of two ranitidine pills before ceasing to eat past midnight. And then I take my final ranitidine pill at 6am the morning of the surgery with a tiny sip of water. The ranitidine is meant to reduce stomach acid before the surgery and to stop me from feeling sick during the operation. Although from experience I know they have injections too if I feel sick midway through.
At 7am I go into the hospital to have my final scan to see if the baby is still breech (because if she isn’t I’m allowed to decide whether or not to continue with the surgery). If all goes well with the surgery I’ll be in recovery before midday. And because the placenta will be out, which is the cause of my gestational diabetes I’ll finally be able to tuck into all the food I haven’t been allowed this pregnancy. Of course once I feel well enough. Too early on and I’m likely to be sick.
Speaking of the baby being breech though, last night she pulled some really odd shapes. She was extremely active and I could see her lying horizontally across my belly, so for all I know she’s actually turned. And as I write this I’m getting some strong braxton hicks, but nothing I could start monitoring on a contraction app just yet. There’s no regularity to the pain. And overall I’ve just been feeling a little off. So I wonder if actually this is the start of things and she maybe coming sooner than we anticipate. Either way we’re on proper countdown now.
I’m a bit of an emotional wreck with so many thoughts being processed through my mind right now. I want her out of course, but I am extremely nervous. I also have the added pressure that I hope her blood sugars are fine after she’s born.
If you want to hear how things progress on Monday don’t forget to add me on Instagram as I’ll be able to do updates on that much easier than I will on the blog until I’m home again.