The warrior's guide to survival

All through my pregnancy I’d being doing all the right things to make my birth experience quick and easy. I’d been exercising regularly, going for long walks, bouncing on the damned exercise ball till I thought it might burst, I’d taken long baths, all my vitamins, and had even tried massaging my perineum in the last few weeks. On the 21st December 2009, a Monday, I started having contractions and by the evening I thought that they were close enough together to warrant a trip to the hospital. I was scared but excited too, and to be honest, at that stage the pain was manageable, it came and it went again, and I could just about handle it. My parents took me to hospital that time – I cant remember why the ex didn't – but there was no room at the inn, and by the time a midwife became available, the contractions were a bit more spaced out. My cervix had thinned, the baby was definitely coming, but I was only 1cm dilated so was sent home and told to take paracetamol for the pain. O

My birth story really has to begin with the pregnancy. Cubs father and I lived together but were sleeping in separate rooms - I didn't love him any more but I think part of me was trying to make a go of things just so that the previous three years had not been a complete waste of time. He was moody and paranoid - on his birthday in January he'd accused me of pretending to be sick to ruin his day. I'd been up all night with the worst most painful sickness bug I can remember, running to the loo for the one end and vomiting so furiously that at one point I 'leaked' (I'd be doing a bit more of THAT later on in the year with a baby on my bladder!). I was studying for my DTLLS and my grades reflected my home life - I'd gone from being a high first to second class degree grades. At Easter, my Grandma saw how much the relationship was distressing and upsetting me and paid for an flat in Lytham St Annes for a week for me and my dog Shadow, because she was holida