COMMENT what labour is REALLY like when you're induced
I have given birth twice in the last four years; most recently 13 months ago.
Then, things proceeded totally naturally and I gave birth to a boy without too much drama.
I arrived at the National Maternity Hospital a little after midnight. And by 00.49 exactly, my son was born. In fact, officially my admittance is recorded as 00.20… so a 29-minute turn-around isn't bad.
Was it easy? Was it f**k. Birthing a child – not least a 8lbs 5oz boy four days beyond his due date – is not 'easy'.
However, with no pain-relief, no intervention, and certainly no being stitched up afterwards, all-in-all, it was fairly textbook – in way that usually-compliant second babies are often want to arrive into this world.
And what a contrast to the arrival of my daughter in April 2013.
Then, I also had no pain-relief. The difference I was given synthetic medication, Syntocinon, to speed up my labour.
You might not be familiar with it – certainly, it's not something that was addressed in any capacity by any consultant, doctor, or nurse during my pregnancy.
During those early stages of labour, however, Syntocinon was 'mentioned' as I got to grips with the unfamiliar surroundings of the labour ward.
Afterwards, I learned that it's sometimes given during first-time births when they're deemed to be not 'progressing' sufficiently.
"There's this drug," the midwife began. "It makes things faster." She referred to it as: 'oxytocin' – the same name as the naturally-occurring human hormone which plays a part in normal labour.
Let's be clear though; there is nothing 'natural' about having the birth of your child artificially hurried to its conclusion.
"Internationally there is no agreement on a standardised oxytocin regimen," acknowledges the HSE. "Often different oxytocin regimens are used within the same maternity units… This is unsatisfactory and increases the risk of medication errors."
I remember a year or so after the arrival of my first child reading somewhere that enduring an induced labour without pain-relief could be summed-up as such: if you had a gun beside you you'd probably shoot yourself in the head.
Exactly.
But far more tragically, in this country the incorrect use of oxytocin during labour has in recent times been linked to the catastrophic injuries or even deaths of babies.
So I'm undoubtedly fortunate.
Once the drip had been hooked up to a vein in my hand, the industrial-strength ("you're only 29 and your body can take it," being the general consensus of the Holles Street staff) Syntocinon took its effect at frightening speed.
I went from 1cm dilated to 10cm in less than 40minutes.
And it was 40minutes of pure torture.
With no break in between contractions I absolutely assumed at times I was going to die; with the hindsight of a second labour to draw on, I feel I can say that knowingly.
Afterwards, 500mls of blood lost and 11 stitches to repair third-degree tears in place (labour progressing so unnaturally quickly will do that), I was nothing short of shell-shocked.
Sheepishly cradling my daughter as I was taken in a wheelchair to my hospital bed, I was numb: there was no overwhelming love; no instant bond; no feelings of fulfilment. In fact, there was nothing to contemplate other than the sense of 'it's over'.
The experience was and still is harrowing.
I acknowledge that medically, Syntocinon has, absolutely, its place in the safe deliverance of a baby.
But should be administered without proper consultation? It should not. And should be administered without an epidural? I think it's barbaric to do so.
In short, more women – and their partners – should be aware of the implications of having Syntocinon pumped into you.
Certainly if a midwife should 'mention' it, my experiences lead me to recommend insisting absolutely on pain-relief (not to mention a whole load of questions) in advance.
Because when it comes to bringing a child into the world, slow-and-steady beats being fast-tracked any day.