Leila Rose Petal

Sleepy (and Slightly Grumpy) by MarkOMeara

Leila’s birth was so straightforward that there really doesn’t seem to be much to tell. But everybody’s story is important and in times to come I know I’ll forget the details and it may be that someone will want to know one day, so what there is to tell is here.

Leila was born via elective Caesarean Section at 8:27am on Tuesday, 13th March, 2007 at the Royal Women’s Hospital.

Although I would have said I was pretty calm, I couldn’t sleep the night before Leila was born. Neither could Mark. Each of us realised that the other was awake at about 3:30am. We talked, cuddled and – eventually - dozed until it was time to get up and get ready to leave.

I was fasting for the surgery, so I couldn’t eat any breakfast. I used the extra time to have a long shower and made a point of washing and blow drying my hair so that I wouldn’t need to do it while I was in hospital. Just after 6am we said goodbye to Rhonda and headed off to hospital.

I would have liked to say goodbye to Finn as well, but it seemed unfair to wake him so early and I couldn’t face the prospect that he would become upset and want to come with us. I felt bad that he couldn’t be part of what was to come and I don’t think I could have left him behind if I’d seen him, in spite of the fact that it was impossible for him to be with us for Leila’s delivery.

We arrived at the hospital a couple of minutes late and had to wait for another woman to be admitted. Once she was finished I was admitted and given my plastic bracelet. We were then taken up to the second floor and directed to a bank of chairs to wait until the day shift midwives arrived. While we sat an old man was doing the worst job of vacuuming that I’ve ever seen.

Just after 7am Amy, the midwife who would take care of me for the day, arrived and took us to a room to complete the formalities. The first job was to take some of my blood for cross matching. This would normally have been done in the 2 or 3 days prior to the delivery (blood taken for this purpose can only be kept for 3 days), but the weekend and public holiday had prevented that, so it was urgent that it be collected and sent off to ensure it was ready when Leila was delivered.

Once the blood was taken, my blood pressure checked, a quick check of Leila done and some paperwork completed Amy took us to the ward where we left my bags and we changed into the clothes we needed to wear for the surgery. I had the usual back-opening hospital gown, worn with another as a coat to preserve my dignity. Mark was more elegant in a pair of overalls which made him look very much like a house painter. Then we headed up to the third floor to surgery. Hats and, for Mark, shoe covers were added to our ensembles and I was taken to prepare for the surgery while Mark waited in the reception area.

When I got into the theatre I was amazed by the seeming cast of thousands present. I’m not sure how many people were there but I remember seeing/meeting 2 midwives (Amy and another girl called Alex), the anaesthetist, the surgeon and another doctor-type person, the paediatrician, the anaesthetic nurse, the theatre tech, the bossy head nurse and 2 medical students. I’m pretty sure there were at least 2 or 3 other people there watching pieces of equipment closely.

I sat up on the table and was hooked up to various machines – an automatic blood pressure thingy (hate them, the cuff always tightens to the point of hurting before it releases), another thingy that clipped onto my left index finger, an intravenous drip, electrodes stuck on my chest. And then it was time for the spinal block.

A spinal block and an epidural are essentially the same thing – they’re both needles in your spine. They differ, though, in that the spinal block is a one off. Once put in, the drugs last for about 3 hours before wearing off and that’s it. An epidural, on the other hand, is intended to be topped up so a tube is left in your back to facilitate this. For me, they were equally daunting because of the need to curl forward and round the spine. This is not an easy task with a baby in utero and, if they can’t get the spinal in, the alternative is a general anaesthetic which would be a horrible way to start the day. I was able to round my spine, though, and the block went in without a hitch.

It was during all of this that I had some second thoughts about having Leila delivered by this method. It was way too late to do anything about it, but I started to wonder whether I had made the right decision and if it wouldn’t have been better to opt for a vaginal delivery. Fortunately things were moving along quickly enough that I didn’t have time to indulge these thoughts. If I had I might have tried to stop it going ahead.

Once the spinal block was in and starting to work I lay down on the table with my arms stretched out on either side. A drape was put up to block my view of my lower body and Mark came in to sit by my head. It was show time.

One of the odd things about having a caesarean is that you can hear and feel it all happening but, because you can’t see and there’s no pain, you’re strangely disconnected from what’s going on. It’s tempting to become obsessed with what they’re doing – is that the incision being made?, what’s that tugging sensation? – but it’s a fruitless exercise because you’ll never know and it’s probably better that way. Mark did a wonderful job of distracting me and I even had to warn him not to make me laugh too much. I wasn’t sure how much my abdomen would move as I giggled and if that would cause the surgeon difficulties.

It seemed like no time had passed until I was being warned that I was about to feel someone pushing on my upper abdomen as they pulled Leila out. Suddenly there she was, all white and purple and screaming about the indignity of it all. I didn’t feel the surprise I felt when I first saw Finn. Instead, I had a sense that our world was complete. That everyone who was supposed to be here was and I felt the deep contentment that goes with that. Of course I shed a few little tears too.

The paediatrician and the midwives did their thing and then handed Leila to Mark. She had the good sense to stop crying while her dad held her and talked to her, thus ensuring her special place in his affections. Although she was wrinkled, grumpy-looking and wouldn’t open her eyes, she was more beautiful than I expected.

While we were gazing at our daughter in rapt adoration the surgeons were busy putting me back together and cleaning things up. Apparently at this point I haemorrhaged a little bit, which caused some concern. I knew nothing about it at the time, but it turns out that I am – again – iron deficient and I’m back on iron tablets.

When we were finished in theatre the midwives, Leila and I went to Recovery and Mark headed off on his quest to find and internet café and announce Leila’s arrival to the world. In Recovery Leila had her first feed and did brilliantly. We waited there until the sensation started to return to my legs before I was taken down to the ward.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of pain medication, noisy neighbours and listening to our little princess snuffle and snort. Mark went home for a sleep in the middle of the day and returned during the afternoon with Finn.

To say that Finn was pleased and excited to finally see his little sister is a massive understatement. While I’m sure Leila’s present for Finn of a Duplo Cranky helped a great deal, it was lovely and reassuring to see how much he already cared for her.

So that’s the story of Leila’s entry to the world. Even though I had a few momentary misgivings about the caesarean when I was sitting on the table being prepped for it, in the end I couldn’t be happier that I chose to have Leila delivered this way. I don’t doubt the special experience that a vaginal delivery can be and, if I’d had that with Finn I’d have been happy to do it with Leila. As things were, though, the elective caesarean was definitely the better option for me. It all went so smoothly and well that I’ll can’t imagine having done it any other way.