You will probably by now be feeling pretty pregnant, and it’s fair to say by the time you reach this stage that bump is well and truly big! Everyone from the person on the checkout at your supermarket to your mum’s friend from her book club will have an opinion on when this baby will arrive. (Now is a good time to start practising your ‘thanks for your opinion I didn’t ask for’ face).
Hopefully, if you’ve been sensible, you haven’t told the world your actual estimated due date (EDD) (see here). It’s thought that as few as 5 per cent of babies are born on their due date, and the majority of first-time pregnancies go overdue by a week; it’s no wonder women get totally fed up when there is no sign of the baby!
So here’s a list of all the things you should do to keep you busy and stop your mind going crazy when you receive the tenth text of the day from yet another friend asking if you’ve had the baby yet? (Um, let me just check my vagina. Nope, still no baby yet).
• Don’t tell the whole world when your actual due date is. Or constantly update Facebook and Twitter with ‘39+6. Tomorrow we will get to meet our baby’. Because, as I’ve just said, you probably won’t have your baby on its due date unless you fall in the 5 per cent. Just add on a few days and say, ‘Oh, sometime next week’.
• Meet your workmates for lunch. And remind yourself how brilliant it is that you don’t have to worry about stressful deadlines and work-related politics for at least three months, a year if you’re lucky.
• Read Birth Without Fear by Grantly Dick-Read. It’s peaceful and empowering, especially if you’re a little freaked out as every person you meet in the street decides to tell you their horror birth story. Yeah, thanks, really helpful.
• Put all those ‘How to Be the Perfect Mother’ books back on the shelf. It’s not worth reading them yet, and your baby certainly hasn’t read them. Maternal instinct is an amazing thing and has guided women since the beginning of time.
• Check you’ve got everything in your hospital bag, and maybe even label things so your partner knows the difference between a maternity pad and a nappy. See here.
• Go to the cinema with your partner/best mate/sister. You probably won’t go again until your baby reaches his or her first birthday. And anyway, you’ll be so tired you’ll fall asleep halfway through and miss the big reveal. I never did see the end of Atonement.
• The same goes for that book sitting on your bedside table: finish it now or you’ll never finish it. I started reading again when my first child was 18 months old. It was a big achievement not to be reading a five-page ‘lift the flaps’ book.
• Have a pedicure. Mainly because it’s nice to look down at your toes after the baby has been born and not at your saggy tummy. I went for a classic red; it was bold and daring and made me feel a bit glamorous when I really felt like I had been up for three days at a warehouse rave.
• Clean your kitchen floor, on all fours. It will look shiny and clean but, more importantly, it will help get your baby into the best position for birth.
• Think about having sex with your partner. It may be the last thing you fancy doing, but it’s nice to be intimate. I think ‘spoons’ is the only practical position to try when carrying a huge bump. But, more importantly, oxytocin (the hormone that controls your contractions) is released during sex, especially if you have an orgasm (bonus!) and semen contains prostaglandins, which can help to ripen and soften the cervix.
Gav was spending a lot of time working in London and we took ages deliberating how we would manage if I went into labour while he was away. Friends and family had offered to be on hand to drive me to hospital, hold the fort until Gav got back, and I had a rota of potential babysitters for our son, Rufus. Nothing to worry about. That weekend, Gav was in London, and we had a couple of friends from America staying. They were new to England and we had offered to show them around Leeds. It would be nice to have company while I was heavily pregnant.
I spoke to Gav that evening, him in London, me in Leeds. ‘If anything happens, keep me in the loop, Ellie.’ ‘Nothing is going to happen tonight, Gav, I’m 38 weeks,’ said unsuspecting me.
It was a strange night; I kept waking and having pain across the top of my tummy, not like contractions. I felt worried and started to push the poor baby around with my hands, desperate to feel some movement. I slept on and off until 4 a.m., when I felt a kick … no … a pop? Had my waters broken? I stood up and there was a trickle. When I made it to the toilet there was more of a gush. I called the maternity assessment suite, who said it sounded like it could possibly be my waters and to give it an hour until I came in to be checked. Convinced my waters had broken, I called Gav: ‘Get the first train back from London.’ He could be back in 5 hours. Plenty of time, surely? I called my mum, and I decided I would wait for her to arrive before heading to the maternity suite.
I tried to sleep a bit more, but the adrenalin had kicked in. I got dressed and decided to make some toast and watch some telly. At 5 a.m. contractions started but I called the midwife, who said there was no rush to go in unless I thought I was in established labour. From this point on, I think I was delirious! My toast lay uneaten, the TV was never turned on. Gav kept calling telling me to use my contractions app. It was telling me that my contractions were 2 minutes apart, but I kept thinking that can’t be right and clearing the whole history to start timing again! He told me to wake our visitors, but I thought it was too early in the morning and I’d be labouring for ages. I straightened my hair(?!), then felt an urge to push and went to the toilet. At this point I called my mum: ‘I don’t think I can wait for you (she still had an hour to go), I think I’d better call a taxi’, to which she replied ‘I think you’d better call an ambulance.’ I crouched over on the stairs on the way up to my bedroom, pain taking over my body, and called 999.
‘I’m bearing down,’ I told the emergency services, ‘I think I’m going to have a baby!’ (Who ever says ‘I’m bearing down’?) She replied, ‘I’m going to talk you through how to deliver your baby!’ ‘I’m not having it here!’ I cried. She asked me if I could feel any part of the baby, I thought, hmmm can I feel the baby? Oh, I can feel the actual baby! She directed me to get sheets and towels out on the floor, which I did, but all the while I was thinking this really is stupid … then woaaaaahwhoa … it’s coming.
‘Arrrrrrrggghhhh!’ I screamed. Yep, that woke our visitors up, for sure – and one of them rushed up the stairs, only to be greeted with ‘I’m really sorry, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but is that a head?’
‘I think that’s a head!’ she replied. She was amazing! She took the phone from me and (while struggling to understand the Yorkshire twang) delivered Ida Rose Evelyn right there and then on my bedroom floor at 6 a.m. And wow! She was safe, she was beautiful, she was healthy, it was so peaceful. I lay with her in my arms for 8 minutes until the paramedics showed up.
I called Gav. ‘I’m so sorry, I’ve had her!’ Poor Gav, having paid £50 taxi fare to get to King’s Cross, sat in the back of the taxi, gutted, the burly taxi driver comforting him.
The paramedics treated me like a queen, scurrying round my bedroom finding me bits and pieces, including some Toblerone. I was in shock! They delivered the placenta and cut the umbilical cord. Rufus woke up, and the timing could not have been more perfect. What a precious moment, walking down the stairs, Ida wrapped in a towel, to be greeted by her big brother munching his breakfast.
Off Ida and I went to hospital. She fed beautifully all the way there and I felt such a surge of love and such completeness.
Gav burst into the hospital at 9 a.m. ‘We have to have a third child now so I don’t miss the birth again’, he said, while cradling Ida and wondering at her petite, dark features. ‘Let’s not talk about that right now, Gav!’
This is the perfect time to be really thinking about you and your well-being. It is a surreal time before your baby is born – a bit like going to bed as a child on Christmas Eve but waking up not knowing if Santa’s been or not. Every night I would go to sleep thinking ‘Is tonight the night?’ only to wake up a bit more pregnant and a bit more grumpy.
You’re probably feeling pretty tired most days; it’s unlikely you’re getting any decent sleep at the moment with all the frequent trips to the bathroom (and the constant knicker-checking: is that my show?). Having an afternoon power nap while listening to your relaxing music from your labour playlist is the perfect way to rid your mind of all those ‘Have we got enough white babygrows and muslins?’ thoughts. Sometimes there can be a huge feeling of pressure to have absolutely everything perfect for when the baby is born, but the reality is that perfect is unachievable and letting some things go will make life so much easier.
If you can, getting out of the house and meeting a friend for a walk can do your mind and body the world of good. Walking is a great way of getting your baby in a good position in your pelvis, and it is possible that it will bring on labour! Being upright encourages your baby to move down onto your cervix (see here). Then, as you walk, the rhythmic pressure of your baby’s head on your cervix stimulates the release of oxytocin, which is the hormone you produce in labour and makes your uterus contract.
There are some days when you will just want to eat cheese on toast and ice cream and others when you may feel your appetite has completely gone due to your stomach being squashed by your baby. You can be healthy without having to inhale kilos of kale. As you only need 200 more calories per day in the third trimester, you don’t need to eat loads more; try to eat regularly, three meals a day and, where possible, healthy snacks in between.
Tips for eating well in the lead-up to labour:
• Eat little and often to the avoid the dreaded heartburn.
• Variety is your friend! Try to include foods from the four food groups as much as possible.
• Eat foods rich in iron, like lean red meat, and leafy green vegetables such as spinach and broccoli.
• Try to have something high in fibre and wholegrain with every meal as they are filling and will keep you regular.
• Remember, it’s okay to treat yourself! Naughty nibbles are fine in moderation. Sometimes chocolate is the only answer.
And that is the question I get asked all the time as a midwife. In all honesty, it really doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference to us midwives. We really don’t even notice a bit of bush down there when we’re about to deliver your baby. We’re far more interested in seeing your baby’s head!
It’s also worth considering that you probably won’t want to take yourself off to the beauty salon to have a wax in the first place. That area can feel really sensitive and sometimes swollen (both totally normal, by the way) at this stage in your pregnancy, so having hot wax applied down there may not be particularly appealing. Also, as with any waxing, there’s the growing-back stage, which may mean ingrowing hairs and potentially spots or, even worse, a rash. If this all happens after you’ve given birth and you have had stitches down there, well, you can imagine how unpleasant it may become.
When I was pregnant with my first baby I was so determined to still feel like ‘me’ right up until the end of my pregnancy, I booked a wax on my due date, much to everyone’s horror. It was pretty painful, despite having been a regular waxer previously; I guess everything down there was super-sensitive. Anyway, as much as I was convinced my baby wouldn’t be ‘late’ he was born almost two weeks later. In that time frame my fanny wax had started to grow out and was quite itchy. I really regretted getting it done: maternity pads, bleeding and stitches were enough to contend with, let with alone a wax regrowth! It’s safe to say that with my second baby, waxing was not a priority. Instead I practised my hypnobirthing techniques and had a really positive birth. And neither time did the midwife comment on my neat bikini line or overgrown bush. I guess she was more focused on delivering my baby!
Jess, mum of two
What a question! Sex is the reason you’re pregnant in the first place, so why not think about having sex to, well, not be pregnant any more? You may be feeling too tired to even contemplate the thought of getting jiggy, not to mention the huge bump, which needs some serious logistical planning if you’re going to get down to business. But if you’re up for it, having sex at this stage can have the added benefit of bringing on labour.
Unless you’ve been told otherwise by your doctor or midwife (or if your waters have broken), sex is entirely safe at this stage of pregnancy. Whether or not you actually feel like getting in the mood with you partner is another matter. You may be feeling a bit swollen (and I don’t mean your ankles) – lots of women experience swollen labia towards the end of their pregnancy due to the increased pressure from the baby on your pelvic floor. You may also be unfortunate enough to be suffering from haemorrhoids (piles). So, you may ask, why the hell would I want to have sex with all this going on?
Well, an orgasm can stimulate your uterus to start contracting. And there is strong evidence that nipple stimulation stimulates your uterus too, so a bit of foreplay could be just enough to get things going. Also, sperm contains high levels of prostaglandins that can ripen and soften your cervix.
My wife was driving me crazy at the end of the pregnancy and we tried everything to try and bring on labour, but when it came to sex I was hesitant. I was a bit grossed out by the idea and I was pretty sure I was going to take the little one’s eye out with my manhood, but I was assured that no man is that well endowed, so we did it. However, our son was born nine days later after a pretty arduous induction. My wife likes to think he gets his stubborn tendencies from me.
Sam, father of one
As with anything pregnancy- and birth-related, everyone is different, so just because your sister had a show and went into labour that day it doesn’t mean the same will happen to you. Just for the record, I had a show with my first baby on my due date. Bingo, I thought, how super-efficient my body is! I went into labour five days later. And even with my knowledge and expertise as a midwife, by this stage, I, too, had become obsessed with any body fluid in my knickers every time I went to the loo. So don’t worry if you are checking your discharge every hour, you’re not alone! You may experience:
• A bloody show (mucus including either brown old blood or fresh blood).
• Your waters might go – sometimes this can be a slow trickle.
• Diarrhoea and/or feeling nauseous.
• Dull lower backache that may require paracetamol to ‘take the edge off it’.
• Achy tops of the thighs.
• Irregular stomach cramps that can often feel like period pains.
• A sensation of not quite feeling right.
I felt like I do just before I get my period when I went into labour, really achy around my groin and cervix. All I wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with a hot water bottle. Paracetamol helped too.
Kirsty, mum of one
The most important thing to remember, as I’ve mentioned before (see here), is to take it slowly. These signs that you might be going into labour can tease you for a few days before real labour starts (especially if this is your first baby). Rest up and don’t announce it to the world – it might be a false alarm.
Waiting for a baby to be born is possibly the most exciting, nerve-racking but mind-boggling thing you will experience. You know that your baby will be here one way or another but you just can’t believe it will ever happen. This baby, whom you haven’t even met and have no idea what he or she looks like, will be in your arms sometime during the next two weeks. To keep your mind sane and your hands busy, here are some ideas for things to be doing. (Note: I did all of these with every pregnancy, so can confidently vouch that they really helped me when my phone pinged for the 99th time that day with another friend or relative asking ‘any signs?’
• Ironing – never before had I ever ironed so much, but I managed to iron everything I could get my hands on: white babygrows, duvet covers, tea towels, you name it, it was ironed and folded into neat little piles. Plus standing is a great way to keep that baby in a good position in your pelvis (see UFO, here).
• Do an online shop – get some really delicious ‘treat’ foods in: ice cream, your favourite chocolate, perhaps those posh ready-meals. The likelihood is you’ll be really knackered come 8 p.m. and cooking can seem like such a chore, plus you can freeze it if you don’t end up eating it now and save it for after the baby is born.
• Nappy/baby wipe/muslin check – buy these in bulk with your online shop so you don’t run out in the first month. Supermarkets often have ‘3 for 2’ offers on, so take advantage.
• Same goes for household essentials – loo roll, milk, dishwasher tablets. Your partner will not want to ‘pop’ out to the shops when your baby is three days old because you’ve run out of loo roll, trust me.
• Finish watching that box set – I was heavily engrossed in a real-life crime story that I had to finish before the twins arrived. How could I possibly labour not knowing whodunnit?
• Make up the Moses basket/crib – this is a pretty special moment, no matter what number baby it is and got me feeling super-emotional every time I did it. Nothing says ‘we’re ready to meet you, baby’ than a white fitted sheet, folded blanket and soft rabbit placed perfectly in the crib. Sob!
• Nap! Every afternoon, on the sofa or in bed; it’s really important you rest your body before you go into labour. A well-rested mind and body is essential for feeling calm and focused. You can do this!
• If this isn’t your first baby, then ask friends if they can take your older child off your hands for an afternoon. It will give you a breather and allow your child (or children) to enjoy playing at someone else’s house.
• There are some lovely illustrated books for children about to become a big brother/sister – this can really help them to understand the changes that are going to happen, why Mummy might be very tired and why Grandma or Grandpa might be collecting them from nursery on several occasions.
• Give your child realistic expectations of a newborn baby in the house – we told our daughters that tiny babies were boring, cried and slept lots. That way they didn’t feel disappointed when their three-day-old twin baby sisters didn’t want to play tea parties.
Like most expectant mothers, I didn’t know exactly how the process would go, but I was ready. I’d done the classes, eaten the cake and stretched like a pregnant yoga cat. A day over your due date is fine, so is a week. Less so when 13 days pass and nothing happens. Needles stuck in me. Raspberry-leaf tea with pineapple chasers, fire curry for starters. Stretch and sweep times three. ‘They do tend to come when they’re ready,’ on repeat. Our induction was booked for day 14 but the poppet made her first gentle movements to leave her haven on day 13. It started with a gentle jolt at 5 a.m. It was the tightening combined with twinges that I had been waiting for.
I had opted for a home birth. We had everything ready: pool, towels, chocolate, tea and biscuits for the midwives, candles and flowers on the mantelpiece. We went for coffee and wandered around. All the while, my contractions were 9–10 minutes apart. By the evening, they were 5 minutes apart, so I rang the hospital. Not strong enough or regular enough. ‘Get some rest,’ said the voice at the end of the phone.
The midwife popped in at 11 a.m. the next morning. ‘You’re 3cm.’ How could this be after 30 hours? She continued: ‘I think something is stopping your progress. You should go to the hospital, just to check everything’s okay.’
We were taken through to the midwife-led unit, a luxurious hotel of birthing, complete with pools, beds, floor pillows, birth balls, private bathrooms and fairy lights. I was told the pool is a source of pain relief, as was the gas and air, so it was best to hold out as long as possible to use both of them. We were shown to our room. I stripped off and bounced on the birth ball, clinging to Charlie’s belt. Very quickly an imprint of the buckle formed on my forehead – nice. Time melted and the world became deep and wide (interesting in retrospect!).
God, I didn’t have a care. Just this baby, just this intense, empowering experience. My entire body was being taken over with its own innate superpowers. I really was off and away, smiling from under a canopy of hormones and focus. The midwife could have told me that Ryan Gosling was in my birth pool and I would have simply smiled, nodded, closed my eyes and furrowed my brow. I think it was the pregnancy yoga that zoned me. Who knows – maybe some fairy godmother made a trip to see me. Anyway, I was finally allowed in the pool – hurrah! – at 5cm.
Dear Pool, I loved you so. However, after an hour, my baby did not like it in there and the squirrel’s heart rate zoomed up. I had to get out of the watery haven and lie on the bed to have my waters broken. The breaking signified change. Post-break my hands tingled, I felt dehydrated, exhausted and actual pain hit me for the first time. What’s more, I hadn’t dilated any further – the midwife said. In actual fact, I’d gone down to 4cm. I went heavy on the gas and air. My smug little Zen space had officially exploded.
After 4 hours our midwife told me that I had not progressed at all. I have no words to express how this felt. It had been 40-plus hours since that first contraction. The midwife suggested we go downstairs to The Drip. Or we could continue to wait, but she was concerned I was shattered, which I was. Previously, ‘downstairs’ symbolised all that I didn’t desire for my baby’s birth, but at this point it became exactly what I needed. The words tumbled out of my mouth: ‘Please can I have an epidural?’ Bleugh. The midwife replied that with the drip speeding up contractions, it would be wise and I would need my energy for pushing. Gosh.
The lights dimmed. Bill Callahan playing softly, a view of the city’s lights. Charlie snoozing on the floor and the sweet, regular sound of our baby’s heartbeat. This was a different place, one of calm and a gathering of thoughts. This was the epidural I thought I would never have. It pulled me back to where I needed to be. It gave me rest, peace and that wonderful focus back again.
After a few hours of dozing and chatting I was 10cm and ready to push. I’d made sure to stop the epidural switch earlier to feel as much as I could. I was soon instructed to puuuush with all my might, taking short breaks to take in more air. I pushed and imagined holding my baby in my arms. I could feel the baby coming. I absolutely loved this very active part.
It took just 10 minutes for this beautiful, crying, wriggling, eyes-wide-awake baby to emerge. The midwife unwrapped the cord around the baby’s neck and handed our baby to me, whereupon my body absolutely flooded me with hormones and love.
Annoyingly, I had quite a lot of blood loss and a couple of other complications post-birth, but the medical staff were fantastic, as was Charlie. We had a few rounds of tea and biscuits, Alba had some more colostrum, I had a blood transfusion, Charlie gave us an inflatable tiger balloon and everything felt rosy. We were floating on a cloud.