Just over a month ago, when I was 36 weeks pregnant, my doctor took me off the drugs, and bed rest, I'd been on to stop pre-term labour. I awoke on that Monday morning, relieved that I could now potter about my house doing chores I'd put off for nearly 10 weeks. I had no idea what it was like to walk around with such a huge belly, let alone run. Yes, I'm afraid I tried to scramble up the stairs to answer the phone! I felt a fool when the frontal weight almost brought me to the ground. However, I managed to catch my fall and, subsequently, planted myself back in bed.

I don't know whether this incident induced labour, but at two that afternoon, a familiar aching feeling started in my lower abdomen. Within three hours, I was back in UHWI's (University Hospital of the West Indies') labour ward, with contractions three minutes apart. For the first time in two and a half months, I was excited. I couldn't believe that I was going to meet our little fellow.

Hours later, after dancing around the labour ward to Shakira and Destra, bellowing from my iPod (it helped me to get through the contractions by the way), I was getting fed up that my waters had not broken and my cervix had not started dilating. "How on earth could this be?" I asked the on-call doctor. So said, so done. My membranes broke, and I felt as if I were wetting myself! All I could do was laugh. At which point, my husband took out his mini video camera and started to film me. I think he thought that our baby boy would appear immediately! To our disappointment, I was only one centimetre dilated a half hour later when my obstetrician came to see me. He predicted that the birth would take place around six o'clock the next morning.

Who told him to put his goat mouth on me? An hour later, my contractions had stopped. Not that I was complaining really, as it meant I could get a good night's sleep. Dawn rolled by, and still nothing. It was close to mid-day when I started getting a little nervous. I'd now had way too much time to seriously consider what was expected of my body. A human being was going to pass through a part of me that could not possibly accommodate him!

Amniotic sac breaks

A decision was made to induce me as there was an 18-hour window, in which to deliver a baby, after the amniotic sac breaks. He had to come by three. Due to concerns with my allergies, this process was delayed somewhat, and it was a while before my labour kicked back into gear. So much so, the midwife would not believe me when I insisted the baby was coming. There she was telling me not to push. How the heck can you NOT do so when a small football is ensconced right into your pelvis? When I tell you I was in agony, I kid you not. It was like someone was digging the sharpest knife into me. There I'd been thinking that contractions were all I had to worry about. No way, man. Why didn't anyone tell me about this pelvic pressure? I think it was the cussing and screaming which made her check things out down there. Sure enough he was on his way, and before I could blink, I was in the delivery room with a team of doctors, nurses, my husband and my mother.

Nothing could have prepared me for what ensued in the next 45 minutes or so. Why on earth had I been so adamant about skipping an epidural? If someone had offered me any form of drug (and I mean ANY) that could relieve the excruciating pain I was in, I'd have taken it. No questions asked!

Emmadaltonbrown@gmail.com

Emma's baby was born four weeks early on May 5, 2009.