Short but painful
Anne Wambua finally had her baby; a bouncing baby boy. She shares her birth experience.
My wish to have a Noel baby was not granted. And so January found me still pregnant. And tired. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep, at least almost half the time. But when the doctor gave me a dean bill of health. I decided to enjoy the remaining bit of my pregnancy—then I was on my 37th week of pregnancy. In any case, I was going to miss my pregnant moments, what with all the pampering that I had been showered with.
And so I reported to work in the first week of the year. Many were surprised at this considering my EDD was only two weeks away—22nd January. Well, my doctor had cautioned that taking my leave before my baby came would mean that I would only sit and fret half the time; especially when I felt that the baby had not kicked as actively as the day before.
Come Monday of the second working week of the year. I reported to work as usual. A normal working day. with the usual aches and discomforts that accompany an advanced pregnancy. Other than that, I thought I was a bit heavier now that I had entered my 38th week. I dragged my feet around the office and called it a day at the end of business. Six o’clock found me home and I slumped in front of the television, soaking my tired and swollen feet in a basin of warm water.
At seven o’clock I was watching the news with slight but barely discernible pain in my swollen belly. After a few minutes the same familiar pains came again. I thought they resembled labour pains but I brushed the idea away, thinking that my baby was not about to come. Not just yet anyway. The pains came yet again—and then again. I told my house-help what was happening. She warned me that from the regularity of the contractions, (ten minute intervals) this could be it. She hastened to make dinner so that I could eat soon enough. ‘You need to have strength to push’ she said. She has two children and so I knew she was probably right.
By about 9.30pm I was sure that this was the D-day. Though my waters had not broken, all the signs were there. I told my husband so and quickly finished packing my hospital bag, a task I had started days ago but had somehow’ not brought myself to complete. We were in hospital by 10.30pm, and by that time the contractions were still coming in intervals of about ten minutes. I was 3cm dilated.
The contractions were getting bolder with the passage of time. I was managing well though. By midnight the contractions were at their peak, the pain almost tangible. The spurts of contractions were coming in shorter intervals of 5 minutes and it was all I could do not to cry out loud. Attempts from the nurse to quieten me fell on deaf years. At that time I was 7cm dilated. I had three more hours left to go.
According to the doctor, each passing hour would see me dilate 1cm, but this was not to be. For at 1.55am baby Alvin Mambo was born, on the 13th of January, a Tuesday morning. Seems he did not want his mother to go through further pain. Or he probably could not wait another hour, another day to enter the world.
My delivery was smooth. It was short—but painful. For by the time my baby was born. I could bear it no more. Though everything went well as per the doctor’s promise, the pain had proved too much to bear. I did not fathom how 4am would come before having the baby. Thankfully. Mother Nature was kind.
END: PG21/48