We love our Maisie

Lizzing loved her French-sounding anaesthetist.

• Not in front of the baby!
• I could not do this for a living
• Oh! The glamour …
• Mr Universe
• I hated their silly cameras
• The most beautiful baby ever

Not in front of the baby!

After trying everything and anything to get labour started (acupuncture, curries, pineapples, a sweep, long walks, raspberry leaf tea, clary sage baths), on the morning of 40+9, my boyfriend announces that he thinks we ought to 'do it'.

It was the only thing we hadn't tried (I had developed a bit of a 'not in front of our child' mentality). This is at 11.00am.

11.30am (ie. half an hour later!!): I feel something like period pain, but a bit stronger. I know this is it. I'm very excited, especially when another, similar pain arrives 10 minutes later.

12.30pm: I'm up and dressed, still very excited. It doesn't hurt that much and the pains are coming every 6/7 minutes. I feel like I could do this labour thing for a living and what's all the fuss about?

I could not do this for a living

1.30pm: We call the community midwives to ask at what stage I should tell them that I am in labour.

2.30pm: Midwives simply arrive at front door, rather unexpectedly. They tell me to call back when either my waters have broken or the pains are every five minutes.

7.30pm: I'm slightly less happy. I feel that possibly I could not do this for a living. It's slightly more painful that I would like. The pains are every 5 minutes and some of them make me cry. We time the contractions for another hour then call midwives again.

9.30pm: Midwives arrive. I feel sure that I'm at least 8cm and that I've been very brave. Turns out not to be the case. I'm 2cm!! Midwives leave gas & air with me, but I'm not allowed to use it as I'm too early on.

Oh! The glamour …

11.00pm: I'm not at all thrilled with the way things are going. It really, really hurts. My back feels like it's going to explode and I can't find any position that makes it better. My SIL arrives (my other birth partner). My waters break, hurrah! I'm sick in washing-up bowl. Oh the glamour. Surely I'll be pushing within the hour. Call midwives.

1.00am. I'm 4cms! It can't be true! It turns out it was just the hind waters that broke. I'm allowed gas & air which takes the edge off for about a minute. I ask to be left alone in bedroom as I need time to collect my thoughts. I calculate that at 1cm an hour, they'll be at least another 6 hours of contractions. I reach a decision. I call everyone into the bedroom and break the unhappy news that I cannot do it without pain relief and that I need to go to hospital. Midwives examine me - I'm 7cm. I've dilated 3cm in one hour, but cannot do anymore. I feel like I've let everyone down, including myself.

Mr Universe

3.00am: Ambulance arrives really quickly. Paramedic hands me gas & air, which she's helpfully not turned on so I'm sucking in vain whilst she tells me I'm not trying hard enough. I finally convince her to check the valve; she does and apologises.

4.00am: I've just been given an epidural by the most handsome and kind man in the universe. He even had a French accent. To be fair any anaesthetist would have gained my love at this point, but he was particularly lovely. BF rather sneeringly tells me that he reckons he's Belgian and aren't I in too much pain to be fancying people?

4.30am: I can still feel pain! It's a disaster, especially since handsome man has gone to another hospital. I'm in despair. The nice midwife says she'll come back in half an hour to top me up, which may take the pain away. She does and it does. Hurrah! Midwife says she'll give me an internal at 7.00am to check progress.

4.30-7.00am: I was in heaven; I could feel contractions, but no pain. Both my birth partners are having a lovely time (they are both artist/photographers - God help me) and were rearranging all the stainless steel in the room to give the best light effects for their photographs. At one stage I had to ask several times for some water before they heard me.

I hated their silly cameras

7.00am: I was 9cm, contractions were irregular, so I was hooked up to a drip to speed things up. I was told that they had to let the epidural wear off so that I would know when to push. I was very sure that I didn't want to visit that dark place again, but can see their point. I had a little cry. My birth partners went to get sandwiches and coffee and croissants which they ate in front of nil-by-mouth self. I hated them and their silly cameras.

9.00am: I was 10cm, ready to push any moment and it really hurt again. I was dimly aware of some talk of my baby's heart-rate dropping and a registrar came in. There seemed to be some urgency to get me to push. My drip was turned up, like some sort of torture. I pushed as hard as I could but a man in a green uniform arrived and told me I would be having a Caesarean! Omigod! Turned out there'd been a bit of miscommunication. Phew. Registrar told me that they had to get the baby out now but the midwife told me to try and push another couple of times.

10.00am: I'm being wheeled into theatre - simultaneously vomiting, contracting, screaming and signing a form to say that my baby will be born by forceps, ventouse or caesarian. It's not a good look. Slightly less handsome, but equally kind man tops up my epidural - oh joy! Registrar has a look and decides that she can go for the forceps. Hurrah. BF arrives back dressed in theatre clothes. He asks if I think he looks like George Clooney.

The most beautiful baby ever

10.39am: Baby Maisie was born, weighing 7lbs 13oz. She cried immediately. I have never known such elation. She is the most beautiful baby - EVER. Fact.

I get to hold to her briefly then she gets taken away whilst I am sewn up and placenta is delivered. I'm comfortably numb and so happy.

11.00am: I get wheeled to a room next door where SIL is leaning over, talking to Maisie. It's a very cute scene. She hands Maisie to me and Maisie practically leaps onto my right boob and starts sucking.

It turns out that not only was Maisie on her side, so the widest part of the head was trying to come through, but also the cord was round her neck so with every contraction her heart rate was dropping. All in all very lucky that I wimped out as hospital was definitely the best place for us both. Also just want to say that all the staff at Whipps Cross Hospital (East London) were amazing. Thank you to them all.

Where to next?

• Read the full birth story
• Read accounts of different types of birth
• Read accounts of other assisted deliveries