Long birth story - I was denied an epidural

My baby is 9 months old now, we’re starting to plan for Baby 2, and I’m still working through the way my first birth experience went. I suppose I will be until I have another one to compare it to.

It all went a bit wrong from the beginning. It was 11pm on a week night, I was 39+3 and massive. One minute I was trying to find a comfortable position on the couch under my whale belly, and the next there was an audible, rubbery sort of pop, and mild pinching feeing between my legs, and then - whoosh. Water everywhere. You know that sound a gallon jug makes when you dump it out? That deep glug-glug-glug? Yeah. I made that sound. When I realised what was happening, I heaved myself up off the couch, waddle-sloshed my way to the bathroom, and lost my mucous plug was n the toilet. I texted my husband - My water just broke. He texted back something about Linkin Park - still carrying on a conversation we’d had an hour before.

Finally he came back down the hallway - Did you see my message?

Uh,...yeah, dude. See mine?

Looks at phone. Eyes go saucer-round. Oh. Oh! Should we...call the midwife?

...and that’s why I’d told him immediately in the first place - because he’d think of the really obvious thing I’d forgotten, like calling the midwife, while I was distracted by the copious amounts of fluid still leaking from me.

Midwife told me to labour at home as long as I could, and to come in by 8am if I things hadn’t kicked off properly - they might need to induce. I wasn’t having any contractions, so I took a nice long shower and went to bed - or tried. My hips and legs hurt so bad when I lay down that I couldn’t sleep. I finally fell asleep around 3am, sitting up on the couch, propped up with pillows.

Nothing happened over night, and at 8am they discovered I was a whopping 1cm dilated and the baby’s head wasn’t even engaged. I was also in ketosis. They told me to go home, eat as much as I could, walk as much as I could, and if nothing happened before 8am the next day, they’d induce then. By now the hip/leg pain was pretty intense, worse when I was contracting, only marginally better when I was moving. So hubby and I walked back down the toward home (it’s a really small town...). He dropped me off at my favourite cafe to have a lamb burger the size of my head, and went to buy me an exercise ball to sit on. I will never forget that meal - trying to eat while contracting every few minutes, sciatica pain - because I’d figured out by then when it was - not at all helped by the hard wooden bench I was sat on. Afterwards we walked around until it was hurting instead of helping, then went home so I could get comfy on my bouncy ball and binge Haunting of Hill House on Netflix.

And thus was my next 8 hours spent. Contractions got intense but not regular and the ball was the only place I could sit without sciatica pain. Was hurting too much to eat again. Called the midwife again around 9pm when things seemed to be ramping up a bit and got asked to come in. I was still only 1cm dilated (?!?!), and again in ketosis, but the baby’s head was at least engaged! I lucked out in that there were beds available, and they decided to keep me overnight rather than send me home - if nothing happened by 8am, I was still in for an induction, and it was already close to 11pm. I got settled, husband went out to find me some food because the midwives were adamant that I eat whatever I could.

Though I’d never entirely ruled out pain meds - my first birth, no idea what it would be like - I’d hoped and prepared for an unmedicated birth. But by now the sciatica was beyond intense. I have a high tolerance for pain, and I’m used to living with it daily, but this was..something else. The contractions were a cake walk in comparison. I couldn’t walk, sitting hurt...bending to try to pee put pressure on the nerve in such a way that my vision actually went dark for a minute. A little after midnight, I asked for pethidine. It didn’t touch the pain much, but it made me mobile enough to get in bed and curl up on my side, and drowsy enough that I knew Imd sleep.

I was in an out of consciousness all night, still leaking fluid everywhere. I couldn’t move to change my pad. I couldn’t move to pee. By 7am the next morning, I made it out of bed and into the shower solely on the motivation of having this dang baby already. I’d only brought one delivery gown. It smelled like pee. I decided I didn’t care.

Three iv attempts and one massive bruise later, I was hooked up to a pitocin drip. Still in ketosis. Still couldn’t eat. Contractions strong and regular. Sciatica pain slowly shredding my sanity. Hooked up to monitors as I was, the only tolerable position I could find was leaning over the bed. And so passed another 8 or so hours. I was exhausted. I’d tried the pethidine again - didn’t help the pain and made me so drowsy I had to really fight for enough concentration to handle the sciatica pain - honestly, the contractions were nothing in comparison. By 5:30pm, I was 5cm dilated. When they told me, I actually cheered. They’d said at 5cm, I could have an epidural if I wanted. Boy did I want. So I asked. And that’s when things...got bad.

By that point, I was mostly non-verbal. Eyes closed. Every scrap of energy going to pain management. I thought the epidural might take the edge off, at least let me rest for the actual transition period and delivery. So, in the broken whisper I could manage, I asked for one. Oh, but you’re doing so well! You’re so quiet! The baby’s not in distress at all, you’re slowly progressing, let’s just keep going! I tried to explain what was happening, what i was feeling. The nurses and midwives asked me questions then talked over me while I tried to answer, told me I was fine, said an epidural wouldn’t help anyway. I tried again to explain. Ran out of energy, let my husband explain. Same thing. He had to tell them three times to stop talking over me. After half an hour it became clear they weren’t going to give me an epidural. They weren’t offering other options or even listening to me - just repeating that I was doing well. I hadn’t eaten or slept, I was in more pain than I could handle, I knew I had hours to go - and they didn’t seem to want to help me. So...I demanded a c-section.

Long story short, they spent less time questioning that decision than they did the epidural and I was happy, pain free, and holding my baby in less than an hour. I never had pain meds stronger than ibuprofen after surgery.

It disturbs me that I was treated that way. It disturbs me that medical professionals were more willing to perform major surgery than they were to give me an epidural. It disturbs me that I both the anesthetist and midwife in charge later confided in me that they hadn’t believed me when I told them, in a broken whisper, how much pain I was in because I didn’t look like they expected a person in pain to look. I was quiet. I didn’t scream or cry. So I couldn’t possibly have been conveying accurate information about my body.

I have a healthy baby. I recovered well. But I still wonder how things might have gone differently, and what it will be like next time.