I was in for 10 days with DS No 1 as labour didn't set in, although they induced me, and in the end they gave up and delivered by ventouse, with me under general anaesthetic. I am still furious about the way it was handled. OK, the waters were turning milky which was why they were in such a hurry, but I also have my suspicions that it was because it was a Friday and they wanted to get it over with by the weekend. This was in January 1982.
Because it was the weekend I didn't see the midwife for at least 3 days and no one came to check up on me or give me a hand with breast feeding. When the midwife finally came in, she asked how I was getting on with feeding. I looked at her blankly, not having any idea how to do it, or that I should have been doing it at all.
Probably the nurses had been bottle-feeding him because I only seemed to have had him for a couple of minutes at a time.
After about five minutes of trying, they decided I couldn't breast feed and he was put on bottles. Fortunately, this doesn't seem to have caused any serious damage, and he's made it to nearly 40 with no after effects.
I loved my time in hospital and enjoyed it very much.
The other two children I breast fed with extreme determination - the youngest till he was 19 months. I had loads of milk.
I was lucky to have a mother-in-law who had been an infant nurse until she married and she was marvellous with them when they were tiny, and she came to help. DH being a teacher, was home in the afternoons, (they only have school in the mornings here in Germany) so it was fairly relaxed.
No such thing as midwives or health visitors here, though. You're on your own once you get home, and have to get yourself to the gynaecologist and paediatrician for the check-ups.