I’ve had a lot of thinking to do about my own experience. A lot to work through. It was a weird day. I had my 38 week midwife appointment. I suffered from hypertension with my first, and I had avoided it so far second time around. Until this appointment. Obviously. I was told I was to be blue lighted to another hospital, because the local midwife led unit couldn’t have me.
I refused to be taken in an ambulance and got Grant to come for me instead. And went via the shops for food, because, food.
When I got to hospital it turned out that my baby was breech, and I was of course starting to feel the effects of the hypertension.
Many conversations were had, over me, about caesareans and what they needed to do. I just wanted my blood pressure under control and to go home and turn my baby before I had it.
But it wasn’t to be. I was asked what time I last ate. And then told I was ‘booked in’ for 10pm. I couldn’t eat or drink. I cried a lot. I had no fucking clue that I could say ‘not a chance’ to that.
And then, the student midwife arrived and everything was ok. Because she knew me and I knew her. And she was amazing. I’m grateful she was there because she stopped us freaking out.
I guess if I hadn’t had that section I wouldn’t have had the honour of having her there to deliver my baby. But I still wish it had gone differently. You are allowed to say no. Or to ask for more time to think. I understand there were real concerns about my health, and I understand that a breech baby compounded the decisions. But it was really fucking hard to accept that I didn’t get to make choices. It was truly bad planning on my part, and on Grant’s part too.
If I could go back and do it again, I don’t think I would do it differently. I think I would have wanted more time to think, and to accept the situation. But I was so glad to have the people there that I did have, so much so that Fern bears the student midwifes name as her middle, she was almost Fern Rose, but she is Fern Jasmine and I’m pretty fucking happy about that.