Today, I want to share a tale that involves induced labour, a stubborn baby, and a consultant armed with statistics that could make even the bravest mums-to-be break into a cold sweat.
So, I’m waltzing into the consultant’s office at 39 weeks, feeling like a superhero. My body has successfully hosted a tiny human for nine months, and I’m ready for the grand finale. I had grand plans for a natural birth, avoiding stitches and a potential prolapsed bladder – call me selfish, but I had dreams of a post-birth trampoline session!
But wait, the plot thickens. The male consultant, armed with a graph scarier than a horror movie, drops the bomb. Apparently, I’m at an age where statistics suggest late stillbirth is more common. Suddenly, I’m not just ‘high-risk,’ I’m high-risk with a capital H.
Now, I’m no mathematician, but those statistics hit hard. Between 39 and 40 weeks, the graph showed a risk increase for us ‘older’ mums. Panic mode activated. Why wasn’t this info shared earlier? Why now? I left the hospital dazed and confused, sobbing at the bus station like I’d just watched the world’s saddest movie.
After some courage-gathering and a call to the hospital, I sought a second opinion from a lovely consultant. She even hinted at complaining about my treatment, but with visions of encountering Dr. Doom during labour, I played it safe.
Unfortunately, that scary graph haunted my dreams. I spent my last week at the maternity unit, getting reassurances like I was ordering fast food. My due date arrives, and suddenly, induction is on the menu – because age, you know? However, someone told me that going over your due date was just a sign of good old tight muscles. At 40, I like to think of it that way.
As the contractions kicked in, I surrendered. Pitocin, epidural – I was living the dream, until the last 10 minutes turned into a medical drama. What happened? No clue. Suddenly, I’m a star in a birthing blockbuster with a rushed forceps delivery. And here I thought I’d make it to the credits without drama.
Post-birth, relief and joy mix with a hint of guilt. Did I let my baby down? Did being labelled ‘high-risk’ influence the whirlwind of interventions? Internal stitches became my new accessory, and my insides felt like they were on holiday without me.
In the aftermath, I pondered the ‘pot luck’ of birth, as my better half wisely put it. The Birth Trauma Association offered support, but my trauma wasn’t forceps or induction – it was the age-based assumptions that haunted my journey.
So, to all the mums feeling the post-birth blues, remember, it’s not about the stitches or the age; it’s about the wild ride that is childbirth.
Until next time, keep rocking the mum life, no matter what age the calendar says you are!
Saffron and Cyrus is a Newcastle-based family lifestyle blog, covering health, wellness, days out, travel, reviews, recipes and more from our family life.
The blog is written by new mum over 40, Aranda, with input from hubby H and son, Little C.
