I recently read an article about women in Britain being denied epidurals in labour. In The Guardian newspaper piece, Clare Murphy, director of external affairs at the British Pregnancy Advisory Service said: “Many women who have been so traumatised by their experience of childbirth that they are considering ending what would otherwise be wanted pregnancies. Pain relief is sometimes treated as a ‘nice extra’ rather than an integral part of maternity care, and women and their families can suffer profoundly as a result.”

That is quite shocking. No woman should have to be subjected to that. While I have been lucky enough that my two labours went well, last month when I went into hospital to be induced for Baby no. 2, my long requested epidural never materialised. As someone with a very low pain threshold, I knew from the start of my pregnancy that I wanted an epidural. I had one for Baby no. 1 nearly three years ago and knew I wouldn’t be able to deliver without. I am the kind of person who can’t survive a headache without some help, so pain relief was pretty much a must for me. When discussing my birth plan, my midwife hadn’t even finished asking where I wanted to deliver my baby between home, the midwife-led birthing centre or the labour ward when I declared “labour ward, and I want an epidural”.

I went into hospital at over 40 weeks to be induced. I was checked upon arrival at midday, and induction was ruled out as I was already 3 cms dilated and the midwife wanted to let things happen naturally. When I was induced with my first, I dilated very quickly and there were fears because this was a second labour, it could go even faster and be traumatic for baby. And so I waited on the antenatal ward, told I would be taken to the labour ward as soon as a bed became available. There my waters would be broken and being Group B Strep positive, I would be swiftly given antibiotics. I waited and waited. Other mamas-to-be went ahead, I waited some more until the evening. I was told I was next to get a delivery suite room, and when my waters finally broke by themselves some 12 hours after I arrived at the hospital, I knew it was time to go downstairs and get me some pain relief. It never came. Instead a future mama next to me, herself 3.5 cms dilated, took my spot as she was in a lot of pain. The midwife asked if I had considered the birthing centre which was a minute walk away. I told her no. I knew what I wanted even though my contractions had started and were still very mild. The midwife told me the mama next door had now taken my spot and I would have to wait “It’s just the way it is”, she said when I told her I had repeatedly been told I was next. The pain of course intensified but I was told the anaesthetist was doing an emergency caesarean and wouldn’t be able to give me the epidural anyway.

Meanwhile the contractions were getting closer together and more intense. And I more vocal. My husband kept pleading with the midwives to take me to the labour ward but to no avail, Next thing I know, a new midwife arrived introducing herself and telling me she was going to take me to the birthing centre as I was getting “a bit loud for the other ladies”. I was baffled as I wanted the labour ward and was expecting to be taken there. By then I was in too much pain to even stand and before I knew it I was being wheeled on the bed to the birthing centre. I am very lucky that not even 20 minutes later, my baby girl was born. It took three hours in total from waters breaking to baby being born. The very intense contractions lasted less than an hour. It was very fast and I did it without any pain relief. But I feel like there was a reluctance to take me to the labour ward and that I was sussed as a natural birthing centre kind of case. Perhaps because it was Baby no2? I don’t know. I never thought I could deliver without pain relief which is what I did in the end and I am proud of myself. But to be kept waiting and seeing others pass before you for something you had repeatedly asked for was stressful and upsetting. I know birthing plans can change, but in this instance I feel like my wishes were just ignored. I am just grateful it all worked out in the end.

I am full of admiration of mamas who deliver without any pain relief. But it’s not for everyone and some of us need help. There is no shame in asking for it. And so it worries me that certain midwives are trying to discourage epidurals, it only makes it more traumatic for the women in labour. Already in pain and not being listened to can make you feel totally vulnerable, frustrated and upset. Labour is hard enough, let’s not make it more complicated.

For one of the most natural things in the world, breastfeeding is actually one of the hardest things to get right. Getting baby to latch on properly, making sure they are properly eating, sore and bleeding nipples – breastfeeding comes with a host of challenges. So many that you regularly read about how many women give up after a week of trying because they find it too painful.

With my first, it took me four full days stuck in hospital to get the knack of it. I felt totally lost and sad that I couldn’t feed my baby. I cried repeatedly to my husband feeling ashamed. It looked so easy when other mums did it! But here I was unable to do it and feeling useless. I turned to formula out of desperation fearing my newborn was starving. I remember one of the midwives desperately squeezing my breast to get the colostrum into a syringe. It was uncomfortable and very painful. Another casually told me that breastfeeding would be difficult for me because I had flat nipples – I don’t. Eventually after days of desperately trying and plenty of tears, a breastfeeding consultant appeared at my hospital bed and got me and baby L going. Her name was Fatima and I joked that she was my ‘Fatima apparition’, arriving out of nowhere and performing a miracle – getting my baby boy latched on properly. She was kind, gentle and very patient in showing me how to get him latched on properly. It worked. The sense of relief was immense.

Second time round nearly three years later, Baby M went straight onto the breast after being born. After a couple of years, my nipples were unprepared for the aggressive sucking they would be subjected to and in fact, within two days I got sore, cracked and bleeding nipples even though her latch was good. It was excruciating. But the midwives kept telling me I was doing everything right so I persevered, wincing throughout feeds.

No prolonged hospital stay this time, as soon as I got home, I piled on the Lansinoh Lanolin nipple cream and hubs got me nipple shields. I also stocked up on breast pads to avoid my battle scarred nipples rubbing against clothing. That helped. But the best trick? A few drops of breast milk on the cracked nipples and regularly letting them dry out in the air. It took two days and I was healed! Hoorah! It still sometimes feels painful when my daughter latches on – she can be quite aggressive and my nipples do at times look sore, but thankfully it only lasts for a few minutes. With practice we are getting there.

It often feels taboo to talk about breastfeeding struggles but there is not shame in it. It is a tough job. And like anything it takes time to get used to it and get it right. There is a lot of pressure out there with the whole “Breast is Best” school of thought, and it’s wrong to pile guilt on mums like that. If you can do it, that’s great, but there is nothing wrong with giving up and putting baby on the bottle. My first was fed on a mix of both. It was nice to get some relief and get hubs to do a feed while I slept! And given that sleep is a precious commodity I could have a lot more of, it’ll be the same mix this time round. Happy mummy, happy baby.

And then there were two. Nearly three years after our little boy, L, was born, hubs and I have welcomed a baby girl, M. Suddenly looking after one toddler seemed like a breeze compared to looking after two small people!

Those sleepless nights, constant feeds and continuous poops – even as you are about to step out the front door – have all come back. I had forgotten how two those first few weeks – or months?! – are with a newborn. And of course, our toddler, is going through sleep regression at this very time, waking in the middle of the night and only wanting his mama (bless). And all this on a lack of caffeine. Breastfeeding means watching your caffeine intake so it’s a much needed cup of tea in the morning and a few sips of hubs’ coffee after. Sleep, that precious commodity, happens when it does – an hour here, 45 mins there – usually when baby is asleep (“Sleep when the baby sleeps!,” they all say – I am trying to). It’s all about surviving one day at a time. We managed first time round, we can do it again.