After birth

I don’t think anyone really speaks about their time straight after birth. I remember being in a state of intense happiness, muddled with extreme exhaustion. I was running completely on adrenaline.

As I was in theatre, my husband, Mike, was left on a temporary ward to look after Sidney. He was asked by a nurse to get Sidney into a nappy, and then swaddle him in a blanket.

Maybe I’m naive, well I’m definitely naive, but as a first time Mum I did think you would get more help in hospital than you do. That is not a complaint. But just a forewarning to pregnant Mamas-to-be. Midwives are there to care for you, not for your baby. That seems so stupid to write but I’ll try and explain it a little.

This could possibly be down to Covid. And a Covid, middle of a pandemic birth has been my only experience to share.

I remember Mike asked the midwife for help when he put on Sidney’s first nappy. This is completely understandable. Why would he have changed a nappy before? Quite daunting for a first time Dad. Typically if it wasn’t for Covid, you would in addition to your birthing partner have your Mum, or best friend, or Mother in law. You would also have guests such as your close family and friends visiting the ward to congratulate you. I wonder if this will ever happen again or if hospitals will always be in a slight state of lockdown.

I always think inside those hospital walls people experience the most immense happiness yet also sadly the most intense loss. People will have memories of that place as the best day or possibly the worst day of their lives. During Covid, it felt like emotion had been sucked from the place. It was eerily quiet, and everyone was tentative, and cautious. Highs and lows continued to take place, there was must no bustle in the corridor, no one around to add any sense of emotion. Everything felt quite sterile. But also very peaceful, quiet, and calm.

Personally, due to lockdown and the seriousness of lockdown 1, I didn’t feel even post birth there was any time to relax. I wanted to be in there and out of there. After all, everywhere was saying the safest place for you is at home. This was what the PM was saying at the time too so this could be why I was feeling this way. But even in early stages of labour, they don’t want to swoop you in and wrap you in cotton wool and say, ‘we will take care of you now’. They’re telling you if you don’t need to come in yet, stay safe, and stay home. This is quite daunting as a first time Mum, I didn’t know or have any experience of how much longer I could wait it out. Just trust your gut in this instance, and make a fuss if you need to.

I remember a few hours after birth, a nurse advised I get up soon and check my legs were moving again. That I should get a shower as soon as I can, as I’ll feel better for it. My legs were still quite wobbly from the epidural and I was very sore and my hips felt stiff. I asked who would look after my baby and was told ‘don’t worry, he can’t go anywhere’. This was the weirdest feeling in the world, I’ve just carried him for over 9 months, had a long labour and now I’ll just pop off to the shower shall I? But you don’t question it, you just get on with it.

I shuffled across the ward to the end of the corridor to the bathroom. I asked Mike to come into the shower with me, no this wasn’t any romantic reason, I was feeling a bit unstable and I wanted to hold onto him.

I made him look away, as I know he isn’t good with blood, whilst what felt like a river of it flowed out of the shower area and covered the whole bathroom floor. I exfoliated (who am I?) to try and get the dry blood and plaster residue off me. As I washed I felt refreshed but also noticed just how tender each part of my body was. My back tender from where the needle had been in my back for hours administering the epidural pain relief, my hand sore from the cannula that still remained incase I needed antibiotics. My stomach, Sidney’s home for 9 months still built just a little deflated. And thank god I couldn’t really feel my vajayjay yet!

I put on a fresh nightie, the largest knickers I’ve ever owned with a huge pad to absorb the bleeding, (BTW hospital pads are amazing!) brushed and tied up my hair onto the top of my head, and made my way back to my baba.

Sidney was just lay there in his cot, listening to all of the noises around us. I got back into bed and tried to enjoy the time I was finally getting to spend with my little family. Every few minutes I asked Mike the time. I was already worrying that the ward was due to close and he was going to have to leave soon. I was making him promise he would come back as soon as visiting hours started again in the morning.

I said goodbye to him, squeezed him tight, thanked him for my baby boy and told him I loved him.

That night, I didn’t get much sleep. Sidney was quite the angel, I set alarms on my phone to wake myself to feed him. They recommended every 2-3 hours. I was so worried I’d not wake due to the exhaustion of labour. The midwife woke me a few times to ask that I had fed him. The ward was SO hot and SO loud. It was such a weird feeling, hearing so much, but seeing so little. Surrounded either side by curtains, with very little room for a bed and a cot. I was extremely slow on my feet, practically immobile. To feed him I had to hoist myself up, get out of the bed on one side, shuffle round, pick him up, shuffle back round and tentatively sit back down on the bed, cradling him so cautiously in my arms.

I got the sides of my bed stuck three times, so much so the nurse asked me to stop raising the side and sleep without the side up. I didn’t realise when you’re in the bed you can’t take the side down yourself, sounds like a design flaw to me!

When Sidney was settled back in his cot I just sat there trying to take in where I was and what was going on. You have 9 months to prepare for this, but nothing quite will. I’d describe it as shock. I now have a baby. After impatiently waiting, wondering what he would look like, how he would be. He was finally here.

The news had started to spread within our family, friends and community that he had finally arrived. My phone was alerting me to new messages none stop. I couldn’t look at any of them. My head just wasn’t there. I wasn’t unhappy, I was the opposite. I just did not have the energy or the capacity, and if I answered one, I would have to answer them all. This is completely ok. I think it was 5 days later that I began to get back to people, stressing they may have thought I was rude.

I spent the night in and out of light sleep. Waking to other babies cries, unsure if it was Sidney, alarmingly not knowing my own baby’s cry yet. Don’t worry, this is normal, I think it was 4 months before I knew what was his and what wasn’t his cry.

I remember in the middle of the night I changed his nappy, and had my first real experience of what happens when you take a little boys nappy off. I changed him on my bed, he weed all over it, but cleverly not a spot on himself. It was about 3am. I didn’t want to make a fuss, or call my bell and wake someone else near me so I just got some additional sheets from the side table and placed them on top and lay back down to sleep.

When you haven’t really slept you don’t really recognise it’s morning. Apart from the sun was shining through the window and onto our small section of the room. It was early, and I was starving! I turned my call bell on, and waited for someone to come. I was going to ask if I could get some food, some toast or anything. Ten minutes later, and the bell still incessantly beeping, I heard “Ladies, breakfast time, make your way to the room at the end of the corridor”.

I immediately switched off the bell.

Mortified that I was about to request something to eat, basically room service!

The curtains all started to twitch, and women who I had heard comfort their babies through the night, I could now see. We left our babies and made a slow migration to the breakfast room. Don’t worry, each baby is tagged when they’re checked into the ward. If your baby is taken out of the doors, all of the hospital doors immediately close and lock. The whole hospital locks down. Those babies were very safe.

I filled my tray. I even had a sugary cup of tea (the second cup I’ve had in my life, one in this instance and one when I returned to the ward after theatre), trying to get as much energy into my body as possible. On the journey back to our beds, I say journey because the pace in which we were going it felt like such a long way and long time away from our babies, we discussed whether we had had a boy or a girl, and what type of delivery we had. It was nice to speak to someone, and put faces to voices I’d heard console their little ones in the night.

Not long after, Mike arrived. He had been outside the hospital for a while but unable to get through security at the door. I hadn’t been at my phone as it was too much to take in, and I just couldn’t stop staring, holding and cooing at my little angel, and he had been calling to try and find out what the hospital password was today.

I felt confident having him back by my side. Sidney had some newborn checks, and I waited to see the Doctor. I was convinced I needed to go home, and I didn’t want to stay another night in the hospital. I was adamant I was going home and I started to panic the longer the day continued, the less likely I was going to get discharged.

When the Doctor came, he asked how I was feeling. I told him I was great, pain was barely there, feeding was going fine and I was just so excited to get home. I was lying. I was really sore, breast-feeding was agony but I was just desperate to get home. And I thought I’d just figure it out and make it work when I’m home.

Late afternoon I was discharged from hospital. 10 days worth of injections into the stomach, a bottle of dulcolax, strong painkillers and a red book and we were taking our little angel face home!

The walk out of the hospital was slow, but I was oozing with pride watching my husband carry Sidney all tucked up in his car seat. All of that panic and stress about giving birth during lockdown. All of the unknown about the hospital, what would have happened if myself or Mike were Covid positive. All of the time we spent locked away, shielding away from family and friends to protect Sidney. It was all worth it. It was all ok. We did it.

We got to the entrance of the car park, a gorgeous sunny Spring day beamed down on us. The security guard we had seen so frequently during the early stages of labour, when being sent back and forth, shouted over to us.

“Congratulations!!! I’ll see you in a years time for the next one!”

I cautiously side saddled into the back seat of the car and yelled, ‘You won’t!’

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