Inspired by Dione's impending birth day, I finally sat down and wrote out my birth story. It was an event that had such a massive impact on my life, I feel it really should be recorded before the memories fade even more. Mark, I'd be grateful if you add any important bits I've forgotten in the comments, (or correct any gross errors my memory has created!).
It's not too graphic, but if childbirth isn't your cup of tea then don't read it. I don't want to see comments about over-sharing, you have been warned :)
I had such a beautiful and empowering experience, despite the yucky parts. It's such a daggy cliche, and I was surprised to hear myself describing it that way! I wish everyone's birth could be like mine. It was mostly peaceful, calm and exciting. Towards the end of my pregnancy I couldn't get enough of hearing about other people's births for some reason, so that's another reason I've decided to share. I have a few friends who will be experiencing birth in the coming months who deserve to hear a positive story. There is far too much negativity about labour and birth bombarding pregnant women. It can be a wonderful experience, but more importantly, it's your own personal experience. Shut out the negativity, bring in the love :)
And so we have it, the birth story of Emma and Josephine.
It was just over 2 weeks until Splodge's due date. We had spent the day having Tony take some final bump photos in Kings Park, which was followed by a relaxed picnic with friends. I was feeling like Mr Plod, in both shape and ability to move around. Exhausted by the outing we went home, the usual Braxton Hicks contractions annoying me, and I headed to bed at about 9:30.
After lying awake for about and hour I gave up, and concluded that the old BH were just not going to let me sleep well that night. I wandered around the house, ate a cheese roll, and started entertaining the thought that this might be labour... 'Nah, it's too early', I thought. At around midnight I realised the contractions were getting stronger, so I started timing them and trying to contain my excitement. I told Mark why I was up, (he was sleeping peacefully), and reminded him he still hadn't packed his bag for hospital! For about an hour I rocked around on my fitball in the loungeroom and tried to remember everything we'd learned at the active birth workshop a few weeks previously. I was determined to get the baby into a good position so she'd pop out quick :)
Contractions were now about 5 minutes apart, but still quite managable. I was starting to get worried about the timing though, so I woke up Mark and we called the hospital. The midwife suggested a bath and a cuppa, then to ring back if I thought I needed to come in. Not wanting to slow labour down at all, I partially ignored her and had a shower instead. A long, relaxing, hot shower - the water on my back was magic during contractions. When I got out, things seemed to be ramping up a bit. I was needing Mark to massage my lower back with each contraction, while I focused on my breathing. Mark called the hospital to say we were coming in, as I didn't want to get caught having any big contractions in the car. I half sat on the back seat, hanging on to the front seat and wiggling around during contractions. Managed to have 3 in the 10 minute trip, then another 2 in the carpark, and another 2 going up to the labour ward. I was so glad it was the middle of the night, because the carpark and hospital foyer were empty allowing me to just 'do my thing' without people staring!
When we got to the labour ward, Mark went into super-dad mode and made sure the nurses gave me the room we wanted, and got all the things I wanted together. We were able to get the family birthing suite, (big corner bath, couch, double bed, larger room, but no drips or epidurals allowed). I was so pleased about this, because I'd planned to spend a lot of time in the bath or on the fitball, and needed space to move around if I was going to apply my active birth techniques. I was hooked up to the monitor for about 20 mins to record contractions, and baby's heartbeat. The midwife was kind enough to let me sit and rock on the fitball rather than banishing me to the bed. My obstetrician happened to be in delivering someone else's baby, so he dropped in, (disturbingly in shorts, t-shirt and drinking an energy drink), and gave me the all clear to get off the monitor, saying he'd see me at 7am. I then had an internal exam, which revealed 2-3cm dilation, (seemed like it should have been more!). The midwife offered me a sleeping tablet, but again I didn't fancy slowing labour down at all, so Mark and I jumped into bed and dozed for a while until I got too uncomfortable.
This is where is starts to become a blur, as a I was getting more sleep deprived, and into the labour-zone of concentrating. I spent hours moving from rocking on the fitball, to walking around the room, to standing in the shower, to sitting on the fitball in the shower, moving, moving, moving! A lot of the time I had my head buried in a wet flannel we'd brought from home, which was nice because it was cool and didn't smell like hospital. My favourite part was leaning over the fitball on top of the bed, rocking backwards and forwards with each contraction. It was so peaceful and meditative. At 7am another internal showed not a huge amount of progress, and I discussed rupturing the membranes with my obstetrician. He had done a sweep during the internal, so we decided to give it a few more hours and see what happened. Not a lot happened. I did get a bit nauseous and have a spew a few times. That was more annoying than anything, because the nausea was stopping me from doing what I needed to do with each contraction. The midwife gave me Maxolon, and a few minutes later I felt so much better. Go Maxolon! Mark and I continued to walk laps around the nurses station, Mark did his best to eat the masses of food that kept arriving. I just nibbled on raspberry flavoured sultanas and tried to drink as much water as possible. I had a kip on the couch, and the contractions really slowed down. It was nice, because it gave me a chance to rest, but annoying that it all seemed to be grinding to a halt. After my nap I jumped up and hooned around trying to get things going again. I bounced up and down on the fitball a lot, and it seemed to work.
At lunchtime the obstetrician was back, and another internal showed I was 4-5 cm. What?! After all this time? He reassured me that the first 5cm are the hardest, but I was dubious. 'Enough of this', I thought, and we decided to augment the labour by rupturing the membranes. I was aprehensive about this, because it sounds like something that should hurt, but it was fine. Kind of disappointed there wasn't a big POP noise though :) After that, it was all on for young and old. A big contraction hit and I had to get out of bed and into the shower. There was a bit of gooz, so the shower was probably the best place to be anyway! I had a couple of big contractions in the shower, where I need to squat down and hang on to the rail to get through them. I also had a little spew again, which was annoying, but little did I know that I was actually in transition.
It was at this inopportune time that a new midwife came on shift, just in time to see me wiggling around in the shower, grunting like a wildebeast. Poor lady! I decided it was time to bring out the big guns, and I jumped into the bath. After 1 contraction in there I decided I hated it, because I couldn't move around. This is when the bargaining started. I remember looking Mark in the eye and saying, 'I have never been more serious in my life, get me an epidural NOW!'. He stayed remarkably calm, and suggested that I should try the nitrous before going the whole hog, but I was having none of it. It's really quite funny now I look back at it, but at the time I was so annoyed with him! Mark got me out of the bath, and the next part I remember is being on all fours on a foam mat on the floor, breathing in the nitrous with each contraction like my life depended on it. I was still naked from the bath, so it wasn't very dignified, but I really didn't care at all. Another inopportune bout of timing, and a medical student arrives to watch. Ha! I didn't mind, but I did feel sorry for the poor bloke. He ended up being a big help, because he told me I accidentally had my hand squashing the nitrous tube, obstructing the gas flow. The wonderful midwife asked if I was sure about the epidural, and what would it take for me to not want it. I was going to need an internal before they would even call the anaesthetist, so she wanted to be sure. I said that if I was ready to push, then it was ok and to not bother. Another contraction came, and I was involuntarily pushing anyway - I have no idea how women manage to pant through contractions and not push when the time comes - it was irresistable! An internal revealed I was fully dilated, (the last 5cm in less than an hour, those big contractions were working!), but had a small anterior lip which the midwife managed to flip out on the next contraction.
Up onto the bed, and time to have this baby. I was on all fours to start with, then moved to on my knees with my arms wrapped around Mark's shoulders to hold me up. The midwife was amazing and stayed up my end coaching me through each push, while my obstetrician was down the business end. It was so amazing to feel Josephine moving down with each contraction, and the midwife's advice of 'don't be scared' and 'hold the head there between contractions' really helped. She also saved me from a sore throat by getting me to stop straining with each push, and visualise pushing all that energy down and out. After pushing for a while Josephine was so close to being out, so they had me roll onto my side which jiggered her around into a good position, and with the next contraction she was out! 3:15pm on October 19th, 2009. I had had my eyes closed through all the pushing as I was concentrating, and the midwife had to say, 'Emma, open your eyes, it's your baby!'. I opened my eyes to see Josephine being passed to me, all pink and goozy and beautiful. She laid on my chest and said hello, and my life changed forever :)
I was able to hold her for quite a while before she was briefly weighed, measured and checked. A few stitches, some happy snaps, a warm blanket and some light-hearted banter with that poor medical student, and our little family was left alone to rest and bask in the cliched wonder. We spent a good few hours in the birthing suite and had dinner there, (inlcuding Josephine's first feed), before moving up to the ward and settling in for our 4 day stay. Mark rang all the relevant people and spread the word of our happy, happy day.
I'm so grateful for the wonderful experience of a natural birth, it was hard and painful at times, but completely worthwhile and a life changing experience even without the baby at the end! To all my friends who are about to go through this themselves, I wish you love, luck and a beautiful birth!
by Emma (noreply@blogger.com) at January 06, 2010 10:54 AM