When I attended my NCT childbirth class back in November in my effort to be perfectly prepared for the birth, I remember giggling along with the rest of the class when our host described the infamous part of labour known as The Transition. For those of you who don't know, it's just before the pushing part when your uterus is contracting up, your baby is heading down and women tend to go just a little bit mad.
As I heard stories of women deciding to give up and demanding to go home, I had smiled smugly at the person next to me, thinking, Oh, that will never happen to me because I am a cool calm educated woman who has nerves of steel, not to mention a fully paid up NCT subscription
In reality, as I lay there in the delivery room on Christmas Eve, sprawled out face down in a pile of wipe clean bean bags with my bum in the air, I was a little less than rational. Here's a few of my favourite transition ravings!
"Fetch me a doctor, a surgeon, I need a surgeon now! I demand to see a surgeon!"
"No, no, I've had enough of this! I'm going home to get an epidural!"
"Can't you hoover her out?"
"I can't push. You do it."
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