At 1am on Monday December 3rd 2012, I awoke in labour. It felt quite different to the prelabour I had been experiencing - more intense pain and more in surges (rather than a constant ache).
I was pretty excited but I managed to not wake D until I needed to get into the bath and relieve some of the pain. So I woke him up and explained I was going to the bath, and that he should come check on me at some point.
We had been out to a farewell party on the Sunday night and had only gone to bed about 10.30pm, so not much sleep had by either of us. I had a few glasses of champagne and D had about four glasses of wine. I did ask at 1am whether he thought he was now okay to drive me to the hospital!
I popped into the bath and almost straight away I started vocalising so I knew we were getting to the pointy end of things. I had to yell for D to come (yep, he went back to sleep and didn't come check on me!) to call L our doula (who I knew would be down on the coast - about an hour's drive away). I was a grumpy duck at this time. I was frustrated at the bleary eyed D who wouldn't follow my instructions! He needed to find a bag to pack my and the baby's hospital gear and then pack it. He needed to grab an extra singlet for bub that I had meant to pull out of the drawers to put with hospital stuff. He needed to put the baby capsule into the car (the Mercedes mind you as the Kia had a flat battery from the kids leaving the internal light on!). He needed to put my hair shampoo in the bag. Looking back now I was awfully bossy and I was able to apologise the next day. Obviously early labour had me in a flap about whether we were ready or not!
L arrived and sat with me in the bathroom listening I am sure to where she thought I was up to. D and I expected, as with the other births, for her to recommend we head off to the hospital straight away, but no. Instead she sent D back to bed (she said to me "we need him useful tomorrow and not sleep deprived") and she sat with me, talking and vocalising through the surges. They intensified slowly. Not what I expected but having L there I was reassured that it was all okay.
L says third babies can be tricky! Even though S is my fourth baby, he is only my third natural birth so counts as my third. First babies are notoriously slow at being delivered - untested cervix. Second babies are notoriously quick - well trodden path. Third babies have lots of room to move in a stretched uterus so can take a more circuitous route out.
At about 7am, I was surging for about 30 seconds every 3 minutes. I was out of the bath, leaning on the bedroom wall, in a standing position. The birth ball wasn't comfortable at all as with the other babies. I think L suggested we go to the hospital perhaps a bit earlier than she would normally have done, as she said, once my waters broke it would be quick and she knew I really didn't want to have the baby in the car. I would prefer hospital or home, not in transit. I didn't want to have to name my baby 'Wynnum' for being born on Wynnum Rd, etc.
We arrived at the hospital, surging all the way. When we entered birth suite my midwife had not arrived, so we had to stand around before they admitted us. This was a bit frustrating/embarrassing as I was burying my head in D's shoulder to avoid the lights and chat and distraction.
When we eventually got into birth suite, we jumped into the shower. However even then, I knew things were slowing down from when we left home. The surges were shorter and more far apart. My mind was doing backflips as I didn't know what was going on - my other births were more direct - surges start, get stronger and I deliver a baby. What was this slowing down business?
Then to add to it, we had an over eager registrar come and read me the riot act about my choices of a vaginal birth after caesarean. That is, I need continual monitoring, vaginal exams, and a canula. She laboured the point. I was upset, teary and just wanted to scream at her. My surges stopped altogether. On top of this, apparently there had been two mistakes made during my pregnancy care - one, no maternal care plan to document my declining of said choices and two, no third ultra sound to check the position of the placenta (which at the 20 week ultrasound was said to be low, but with no measurements). Well the registrar was huffing and puffing around about all these things. I was bawling my eyes out in the shower.
Eventually I told D to just go and get it sorted out or I was going home. I would birth at home, I didn't need to take this crap and ruin my birthing experience. I was a third time vaginal birther for goodness sake - I knew what I was doing. I was pretty upset as you can imagine.
Well there is a happy end to this story. D went out and the consultant was there. I am not sure exactly what was said, except that the consultant told the registrar she was out of order and was upsetting my birthing space. He told her that I clearly knew what I was doing, and my choices were informed as it was the third time I had made these choices at this very hospital. And he told her to leave me alone.
D came back into me and told me this in brief and I was so relieved that we could get on with it!
Having said this, there were now, however, no surges at all. Nada.
I said to L and D, well we are going back home, because I wasn't going to stay in this delivery suite twiddling my thumbs while the hospital 'countdown' was on for me to birth. We told my midwife this and she was wonderful. She said that she would leave the birth suite open for us, and we were welcome to go home, but she recommended perhaps a walk around the grounds for a bit to just cool down and see if things started up again now that a more positive space had been opened up again after the registrar debacle.
Which we did, and the surges did start again. They got to the point where I was a bit embarrassed at the sight and sound of me during a surge out in the public grounds, so we headed back into the delivery suite. It must have been about 10 am?
The surges were back but they were stop and start. If I got into the birth bath, they stopped altogether - I was too relaxed. If I stood during a surge, the pain was less but I knew the surges weren't as effective at opening the cervix. Only when I squatted did the surge intensify and the baby descend more.
Do you know how mentally challenging it is, to have to bring on pain to get what you want?
Unlike if you get a sore knee during a marathon, where you can try and favour the good knee when running and change your gait to reduce the pain but allow you to continue, in my instance, I had to lean on the bad knee, increase the pain to get across the finish line. Hmmmm.
The midwife had felt the head of the baby from my stomach and said that he had his chin up - not tucked like he should. So his forehead not the crown of his head was pressing on the cervix. This is a much wider part of the head and less pointy, so it makes it more difficult for the cervix to dilate.
I was doing my own cervix checks (sounds gross but not too dissimilar to inserting a tampon) and I know that when I came into hospital I was about 5 cm dilated, but after the fiasco in the morning I had gone back to 1 cm or less with no head to be felt.
So at about midday I turned to L and asked her if she thought we should break my waters so that there would be more pressure on the cervix from the head and therefore get the ball rolling more quickly. Without much hesitation, L agreed. Speaking to L later she said it was very unusual for her to recommend intervention, but actually if I had known how, I could probably have done it myself (pinch the waters between two finger nails). So it is not intervention like an epidural, or pitocin, which I could never administer myself - I was just giving nature a helping hand!
The actual procedure is pretty easy and less painful than a surge so really no stress for me at all. It involves the midwife and a sort of crochet hook and takes about 10 seconds. I stood up, some water ran down my leg, along with a pretty gooey mucus plug (I had never seen one of these before - pretty cool - it is what keeps the cervix shut for the 9 months you need it to).
The surges increased in intensity but I still had to work at mentally and physically opening up my cervix. The bath was not an option as I became too relaxed, the shower too unweildy as I was moving around a lot to position to the baby in the right way, lying down - the concept so painful I think I would have asked for an epidural, so it was half squatting, half walking, half leaning into Damo.
Mentally I had resigned myself to an extremely long labour. I knew with the forehead presenting it was going to be a long, hard, painful route. I was committed to it, but certainly my confidence was wavering - maybe I couldn't do this? Maybe the pain was too much for me? Maybe I was just too exhausted?
At one point I heard myself say 'nooooo' as a surge started. It struck me that this is not what I needed to say, so I consciously changed it to 'yes yes yes' throughout that surge. Surges are what I needed to give me a baby. No matter how painful and uncomfortable.
I needed to hear D and L telling me that I was doing a good job, no make that awesome job. I needed encouragement. This stage one of labour was not the trancelike, zen of the other births. This required every bit of my ability to fight and get what I wanted. And I needed to be told I was progressing and doing great.
At about 3pm, to my complete and utter surprise, at the end of one surge, my noises changed to that wonderful grunt, pant sounds. I nearly screamed with joy at D! We were up to the pushing stage. I almost didn't believe it, and it was not until the next surge when the same noises emanated that I did believe it. The midwife said, "Someone's knocking at the door!"
L put some more hot water in the bath and I got in, in preparation for the birth. As he was coming out in such a difficult position, I found hooking one leg over the side of the bath and the other leg and my hips floating in the bath to be the most comfortable and effective.
I had to push bloody hard! Look at your own head and imagine the difference in size between the crown of your head and your forehead. At least 50% bigger circumference I reckon!
As he descended I was breathing so quickly. I knew to keep my mouth shut and use all my energy downward not outward. Everyone was telling me to slow my breathing and pant and blow out like a horse. I tried, I did I think as they instructed. I could feel him coming down and out. Many people think the painful bit of birth is when the baby exits (that is, the stretching bit) - I mean it is not comfortable or nice but really not so bad compared to the surges. I felt the sensation of his head coming out (from the back of me to the front). It is an amazing sensation of relief when you know that head is out! Just the body to go! I had to give a tiny push when he was half way (up to his belly) which is unusual - he must have turned a bit funny.
And then they were telling me to hold him, and I reached down into the water and felt his soft body and I brought him onto my chest out of the water. D had caught him. His cord was wrapped a couple of times around his neck which the midwife had unravelled as his head came out. It wasn't tight and never a risk. He had also turned nicely after his head was out, just like he ought - so he came out looking left and then turned to the right like he was surveying the joint before he agreed to completely exit!
It took me about a minute to feel the joy. I was so exhausted and grateful the pain was gone and that it was over. Once again new sensations compared to the prior births. Really this one had been a marathon - with all the mental and emotional (not just physical challenges) of a real marathon - where you are not sure if you can do it at many times during the race.
But then the joy came and I opened my eyes to look at my beautiful boy. His cord pumping still, this most vibrant blue colour, he was quiet in my eyes, not so much as a whimper from him. I asked if he was breathing! They said, yes, beautifully, and the nature of water birth is that it is very calming for them.
They drained the bath so we could keep S warm, and about ten minutes after S' arrival, my placenta was delivered easily and naturally (no need for pitocin injection which is standard practice). I then was getting a bit cold, so they hauled me out of the bath to the bed. They wrapped me in lovely heated blankets.
I was delirious with relief and exhaustion and joy. I thought I was going to pass out. I was thirsty, hungry and must have had so many natural drugs pumping through my system. I could barely see straight or focus. Embarrasing to admit, but other than alcohol, I have never done drugs - but this delirium must be similar to a drug high?
(Damien cutting the cord)
S immediately latched onto the breast when it was offered to him and so we just lay there recovering while activity ensued around me.
Oh my I was glad it was over.
I had cramping in my gluts start up which was pretty uncomfortable - that is what you get for squatting more or less for fourteen hours straight! So I took some panadol, also the after birth pains were those of a fourth birther - bloody awful!
But over the next four hours (the standard time taken before we can leave) everything got clearer, less painful and more normal. I had a gorgeous shower with the natural soap L had brought me, and I had a lovely hair wash with the shampoo D remembered to pack! I had the all time best meal of my life - beef and vegetable stew from the hospital as well as copious cups of tea (one of the requirements of leaving is that you have to have done a wee - tea helps make this happen!) and jam toast (the best jam toast in the world).
So at 7pm we packed up and headed home to our new life of four children.Labels: Birthing, Hospital, Large Family, pregnancy
