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Thread: I don't understand...

  1. #37

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    Too right.

    Kelly xx

    Creator of BellyBelly.com.au, doula, writer and mother of three amazing children

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  2. #38
    Ellibam Guest

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    This is exactly why we went with a home birth for arquene!
    and now thinking about it i never gave permission for internals or the episiotomy! i think that if i/we was to complain against the doctor who did these to me our hospital would start to get people to sign a concent form before we even go in to labour!

    I hate that women have to go through this... its just not fair! i wish everyone could have the most amazing birth that we are entitled to! with out the doctors/nurses getting there grubby mits involved!

  3. #39
    Claire Guest

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    That's disgusting and outrageous! But I'm not surpised! I encountered a few brick walls when advocating a natural labour with no interventions at the local public hospital. That's why I choose to birth at home with an independent midwife - I got the empowering experience I wanted.

  4. #40

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    Haven't read the whole thread yet but as you know Kelly I was another "inconvenient" labour They wanted to do just as you described: wack in the drip immediately. I was basically told that I had to have a quick labour because they were busy and needed the delivery suite. If it wasn't for you going into bat for me I would have probably just submitted to the pressure.

  5. #41

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    I wonder if this behaviour is going to get worse with the increased birth rate. Will there be an increase in intervention as there will be such a rush to get you through quickly due to needing birthing suites and beds.

    Saying that though I do remember my mother talking about being induced with me as they needed the bed (early 70's), I would not budge till I was ready though.

  6. #42

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    More tired Obs out there for sure!!!!
    Kelly xx

    Creator of BellyBelly.com.au, doula, writer and mother of three amazing children

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  7. #43

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    It is just so wrong!

    It makes me realise how lucky i was with my first induction. I was induced for very low fluid levels, and i was completely ok with that, but luckily i had started having regular contractions 12 hours before i got to the hospital at the planned time.

    I refused the drip, just asked for a ARM to see if we could get things going. I think i originally asked for an hour, my obs was ok with it (private obs, private hospital). Then after that hour was up, it was the midwife who harrassed me to go on the drip, even though things were gearing up. Finally she got the point that i wasn't having it, called my obs, who said if i didn't want the drip, i didn't have to have it!!

    Only after reading all of this do i realise how impressive his attitude was, letting me have a say in things (within sensible guidelines).

    I think i was also incredibly lucky to have the worlds best doula with me, helping me handle the pressure of the drip happy midwife (seriously, you would have thought she earnt a comission or something), and to help me get into real established labour without it.

    Can't wait to have her around again!!! (ETA: THE DOULA!!!!.....and the worst part was that wasn't even the worst midwife i had during my labour.. oh, i could tell you all about the other one, but i think i'll get to worked up over it)

  8. #44

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    Awwwwwww Yael.... the midwife or the doula?

    *mwa* I can't wait to support you again too hon xx
    Last edited by BellyBelly; October 22nd, 2007 at 07:51 PM.
    Kelly xx

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  9. #45

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    I think the best thing i can get out of this is knowing that i should make a point of having a detailed discussion with my midwife at ANC appointments as i get further along. Aurora your suggestions of your birth plan, with the 'lawyerish content' if needed, are really good, and this has all encouraged me to make sure DF really does have a better understanding of what i want and how to help me during labour.

    I really would have liked to have gone private, but as had no health care, am all stuck to the public system this time around. The stories i have read of some homebirths are very empowering and i do want to birth at home for my second and and any subsequent child(ren) but i guess it will all depend on how smoothly this first experience goes and what can be afforded at the time.

  10. #46

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    Ashlea, have you thought about a doula? Even a trainee if money is a problem. Having someone who has been through it before and can advocate for you away from the highly emotional attachment a partner, mother or sister would have is so beneficial.
    Kelly xx

    Creator of BellyBelly.com.au, doula, writer and mother of three amazing children

    BellyBelly Birth & Early Parenting Immersion - Find out how to have a BETTER, more confident birth experience... guaranteed!
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  11. #47

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    We had private cover since our second baby but decided to go public with our third and hire a doula instead of an Ob. I don't think either system is better or worse Ashnant, it's up to the individual to defend their rights either way. Public or private, you can still be pushed into doing things that aren't in your best interests.

  12. #48

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    I have been looking into getting a doula, but as i'm currently in melbourne (probably until at least 32 weeks) but moving to Geelong to have the baby it's been complicated to organise. I will get there though!

  13. #49

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    What a horrible way for a woman to start her labour!

    I must say though, I was induced in a private hospital at 1cm and my OB insisted on breaking my waters and leaving me for an hour or so before we did the whole drip thing JIC I went into labour. I never did so we started the drip as I was Pre Eclamptic and bub had to get ASAP and I didnt want a c-section if I could help it.

    Thankgod for people like you Kelly

  14. #50

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    Yep Yael - I am like you, I thank my lucky stars every day that I have a great Ob and a Great Hospital.

    Kel, I think that we are slowly going to see a turn in the tide though hun. Even in the last year, the increasing numbers of women that are REALLY educating themselves about childbirth, interventions and hiring Doulas and midwives will eventually begin to change attitudes in the medical profession. In the meantime we will all keep working away to make change happen!

  15. #51

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    Hello Everyone.

    I'm actually the client in question in this story. Kelly informed me of the thread and I just wanted to come in and say thankyou to everyone for their replies. I also thought I would come and share the birth story from my point of view - the little more emotional side. I will warn you, it's very long so I hope you are comfy and have plenty of fluids handy.


    On Sunday the 21st of October, I lie awake in bed at all hours of the morning, knowing I am but hours away from actually having a baby. Being told I was at risk of an incompetent cervix from the beginning, made to fear that I would have her too early was hard enough to deal with. Being told “any time now” from week 35, I was amazed that I would be still lying there at 42 weeks pregnant – 14 days past the due date I was told I would never make.

    Knowing I would be induced that morning, I barely slept a wink the night before. Instead I lie in bed and cherish those last movements from inside – the kicks that I swear were going to end up with a foot emerging from my right hand side, the little hand movements near my bikini line. And of course who can ignore the head butts to the cervix – the most recent addition to the party that happens every night inside. I smile with every one.

    All along I had planned for a Birth Center delivery – a nice big double bed, the option of the biggest bath I had ever seen, and of course wonderful midwives who were all about what I wanted out of the experience. As each minute ticked past though, I drew ever closer to the cut off point of 7am Sunday morning. The moment that I would be classed as officially “over due” and moved down to the general labour ward with doctor’s and interventions and no one I had ever met through out the pregnancy. I begged and pleaded with my little belly occupant to start making the move, even if labour started before 7, I had a chance to stay with the birth center.

    At 5:30am however, the alarm which I really didn’t need, went off. I took a deep breath and got up, it was time to get ready. I felt fine until the last bits of my bags were packed and waiting by the door, the only thing left to do was sit down and wait. It hit me, I was going to have a baby… that day.

    We arrived at the hospital not long before 7am and loitered around the lobby awaiting the arrival of my Doula, Kelly. After heading upstairs just after 7, we proceeded to wait around. I don’t know why I was so worried about being late to the 5th floor, it’s not like I wasn’t already “late” to deliver anyway. If I had of known I would sit around until roughly 9am, I really wouldn’t have worried. Eventually one of the many midwives that had walked past us time and time again stopped… they had a room and this was it. Time to go!

    I had learnt at my previous appointment, that the hospital policy upon reaching 42 weeks was to break the waters and immediately begin the Syntocinon. I was really afraid of the ‘cascade’ of interventions and had already mentioned that I wanted just my waters broken to start with. I felt ready to labour, I felt that I really only needed a little shove in the right direction and I really felt that that was all I would need. Unfortunately, the doctor’s didn’t seem to think I knew my own body – you know, the same one I’ve lived with for the past twenty-seven years.

    The first doctor ummed and aahed when I expressed my wishes, and although I could see the hesitation and uncertainty in his face, eventually agreed to give it a go. What bugged me though was the midwife, who while listening to my wish NOT to have any drip, was busy checking my arm for good veins. I later found out it was because they wanted to put a line in now, so that it makes it easier to give me the drip later. I politely explained that should I need it, we can put it in then, and for now I would like to avoid ALL needles. After all, why stab me if we don’t need it, get your kicks another way.

    The first doc left and I made a bit of a comment to Kelly about how he wasn’t really hearing what I wanted. It was then we could hear muffled talking just outside the door. I shut up and strained to eavesdrop lol.

    Minutes later, the midwife, first doctor aaaand another doctor came into the room. It seems Doc #1 had consulted a higher ranking doctor (#2) and he was here to give me the biggest guilt trip I have ever experienced in my life. I was told, once again, that it was hospital policy to administer the Syntocinon upon rupturing of my membranes. I explained, again, that I wanted the chance to see if just the breaking of my waters would be enough, and should it prove not to be, then I would discuss the drip. I wasn’t saying no out right to the drip, I just wanted the chance to see if I could get it going on my own.

    I continued trying to get my point across the only way I know how – making light of the things he was saying: “If we don’t give you the drip, things won’t progress until later in the day…” says Doc #2. “I’ve got nothing planned for this afternoon – I’ve freed the whole day!” I reply with a big smile. “Labour can end up taking all day, if we give you the drip now, it will get things started straight away”, he tried. “It’s ok, I got a really good car park under shade”, I rebutted.

    When this didn’t seem to be getting him the answers he so obviously wanted, he started on about how if we waited and put in the drip in the afternoon, I may not give birth until the morning and then a doctor would have to be called in. Apparently, as he repeated to me over and over, doctors don’t like being woken up in the middle of the night when it’s “unnecessary” – ie, if they can force the baby out during the day, they get a good nights sleep. It was about then that I started to realize he wasn’t listening to anything I was saying. He was hearing me, but he wasn’t listening.

    The next half an hour was a blur as I found myself staring at nothing and hearing “no, no, no, this isn’t how it’s meant to be” running through my head. I turned and looked to Kelly for help – she jumped right in. I remembering hearing over and over the phrase “it’s hospital policy” from the doctor, and “but not law”, “her wishes” and “give her a chance” from Kelly. When the guilt trip about waking a doctor in the middle of the night didn’t appear to work, he switched to say that if I was to give birth in the middle of the night, there wouldn’t be the right people there to deal with any issues. It was told to me that because we were breaking the waters artificially, and that something had to be inserted, there was the risk of infection and it would be better to deliver during the day when all the doctors required to deal with it were already here. I vaguely remember commenting, in a slight ‘give me a break’ tone, that “we were in a Hospital, and forgive me if I am wrong, but equipment is sterilized before use, right?”

    With this tactic failing on him, this lovely man decided to go the next big step – infant mortality. I don’t really remember what was actually said as the tears were flowing now and all I wanted to do was go home. I was being given a huge speal about meconium in the waters, infant distress if labour didn’t progress, or if it did that it would take too long etc. All I could do was lie there crying and feeling every single set of eyes in the room looking at me to cave. I just started shaking my head in disbelief. Why wouldn’t they just let me try with the waters and see what happened. They were writing me off before even giving me a shot.

    Eventually the doctors left the room. Doc #2 (Mc Nasty) was off to speak to his superior. The second he was out of the room, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and the tears flowed. I had Kelly on one side and a very angry DH on the other. Both were discussing how horrible this man was being, the obvious guilt trips and reassuring me that it was all going to be ok. I kept asking why he wouldn’t just let me give it a go…

    Ten or so minutes later and everyone comes back into the room. Mc Nasty is a little more subdued and informs us that his superior is OK with us just breaking the waters. The look on his face that he couldn’t just walk back in and use the excuse ‘my superior has said you need the drip’ was so obvious. The only condition was that I must set a cut off time, a time that if my labour wasn’t started by, the drip would be. Let the negotiating begin!

    At first I was given an hour… 60 whole minutes. I looked at the cloth and it was approaching 10am, which would have given me till 11. I said that wasn’t long enough and I wanted something more like 3 – 4pm. We bounced back and forth a bit. Well he bounced, I just kept repeating “around 3 – 4pm”… eventually he agreed.

    Mc Nasty left the room and the first doctor got set up to break my waters. This doc was actually very sweet, quiet and gentle. This doctor I liked. Unfortunately, and I think it was because he was so gentle, he was having trouble breaking my waters and informed me he needed to call in… dun dun duuunn… Mc Nasty. I just rolled my eyes. Of cooourse he does.

    Mc Nasty re-entered the room, only this time he knew he was the last person I ever wanted to see and actually looked rather apologetic that he had to come and do this. Thankfully he was very quick and even plucked out a hair or two to show us that it was all done. Personally I thought the big gush of water I just left all over the bed gave it away. As quick as he entered, he was gone and it was time to get up and go for a walk. I was given some hospital pads, which given they are basically just cotton material; I needed to stack about 4 thick. Getting up off the bed resulted in more water coming out and I was changing those first four pads before I even left the room. The midwife said it will happen slowly, I’ll get a trickle here and a trickle there. We put 4 extra pads in my bag “just in case” and headed down to level 1 and this Hospital Cafeteria.

    By this time we had Sam with us. Sam’s a friend of Kelly’s and does birth photography. Yup that’s right, I had my own paparazzi! So Kelly, Sam, DH and I all sat down to some morning tea. No more than 3 bites into my sandwich, I swore I felt a little splash against my heel. I must have had a confused look on my face as everyone was looking at me. Kelly asked if I was having a contraction, to which I replied, “no… I think I’m leaving a puddle.” The funniest part of the day happened next, when three heads disappeared under the table only to come up laughing and informing me that yes, I was leaving a puddle, a BIG puddle.

    Kelly asked the lady behind the counter for a towel or cloth and informed her I had lost my waters. She made a comment that, “you can’t take kids anywhere” which didn’t really make any sense until she came up with a chux cloth and was looking at the table for the glass of water I had spilt. No no, pointing to my belly… my wwaaaaters. *BING* You could literally see the light bulb go off. With in seconds, everyone in the Café knew and I was the center of some very excited attention. Kelly dashed up stairs and returned with a towel to put between my legs and a sheet to wrap around my middle. Extremely appreciated as I could feel I was wet down to my knees. Off we went back to the 5th floor, my sandwich now in its take away form.

    I got back to my room, changed my pants and underwear, put on yet more pads and everyone started to get a little excited. This was a good sign. And I was going to have a baby today! Gah! On the way back up to my room, contractions had started, mildly, and Kelly commented on how good this was. Only 40 minutes after my waters had been broken, this was a very good sign! We were going to shoot this baby out my dinner time and really stick it to the docs.

    I was put on the fetal heart monitoring to see how bubs was doing. I had requested intermitted monitoring and everyone started to get a tad annoyed when almost an hour later I was still there. It was 11am in the morning and little bubs was sleeping. I tried explaining to the midwife that she’s always asleep at 11am in the morning and never even really starts to wake until 2pm. “Ah huh” was all I got back. Approaching the 2 hour mark and all of us were getting very aggravated that I was still chained to the monitor. My contractions were dying down the longer I was sitting there and I could feel myself getting tense. We wanted to go for a walk, so when the midwife came back in to check again, I informed her I needed to go to the toilet (as they have to detach you in order to do that) and that I was going for a walk immediately after. We were all ready to just walk out anyway, so she really didn’t have a say in the matter.

    We located the hospital stairs and off we went, down all 5 flights. Upon reaching the bottom, it was now time to go back up! I managed one whole flight before the first real painful contraction hit. Everyone smiled and nodded to each other. “Yay, she’s in pain, that’s just super!” By the time I reached the top and started on the way back to my room, I was pausing every 5 feet – contractions were about 3 minutes apart. I had read they would hurt, but ouchies!! A little while later and I was having to grip the window sill in order to remain standing and found I couldn’t even hold my water bottle. I needed to sit down, my legs were getting wobbly, my feet hurt.

    We headed back to my room and located the fit ball. I was hooked up to the monitor again which was annoying, but we realized we had been gone for 45 minutes so, yes it did make sense to check again. We didn’t realize we had been gone that long. I managed about half an hour on the ball before I was uncomfy and I wanted to lie on my left side on the bed. A position I have always craved when unwell. I kept wanting to try to get onto all fours, but every time I attempted to roll over, the contractions got almost unbearable and I found I just didn’t want them to hurt that bad. I stayed where I was.

    Contractions came thick and fast and I remember thinking that I was going to be sick. Two or three contractions later and I the midwife was telling me I should empty my bladder as I had been drinking water fairly regularly. I agreed and sat up to make the move. Thank goodness we had Kelly there who could actually see roughly where I was at, and was very handy with a bowl at face level by the time I was vertical. There was no “I’m going to be sick this time”, it just came out. Pretty much completely water, although I was told afterwards that there were the mint leaf lollies I had nibbled on prior to that, and apparently my breath was ‘minty fresh’ even though I was vomiting. I’m such a lady…

    The side effect of being sick is that it’s like someone is pushing both ways from your middle. You have stuff coming up and out, and yet something also pushing down and out. After everything that could come up, did. Once I felt I had nothing left, and another contraction had just finished, I was immediately helped to the toilet. For someone who was so worried about being looked at ‘down there’, I now sat on the toilet in front of a room full of people. But oh boy, it had never felt so good as it did right now.

    One contraction… two contractions… a break. Omg, a break, that feels so good, I can actually... whoaaaa! That’s about as far as I got in that thought when I experienced what I had only read about. My body was taking over and I felt this really weird sensation. It wasn’t a contraction, and it wasn’t continuous either – it was like one, two, three. Right after each other. I could hear my noises change too. I was just grunting, no more “owe owe this hurts”, I sounded a little like a wild animal in attack mode. I heard Kelly asking me if I felt any pressure in my bum area, I shook my head and grabbed her hand… here it comes again!

    The break in between these feelings was such a relief. If it wasn’t for Kelly practically holding me up by the facewasher on my forehead, I swear I would have fallen right off the toilet. The break wasn’t long however, maybe 30 seconds… possibly a minute. I could hear people talking in the background. The midwife telling me to slow my breathing, Kelly telling her that it wasn’t contractions, I was pushing. The midwife wasn’t really listening. I opened my eyes every so slightly and looked at Kelly. “I feel like, like I’m holding something in”.

    Kelly forced the issue with the midwife that I was pushing and, with a sigh, she told me to come back to the bed and she’d do an examination. The bed was a good 5 or so steps from the toilet, yet I think I was whisked across in a single sweep because as soon as I did stand up, the “we’ll giver he an examination” was very quickly replaced with, “get her on the bed now, that’s the head!” Apparently, I was already crowning. That explained a lot.

    I collapsed onto my left side on the bed and the room filled with people – more midwives, people putting gloves on, people to hold my legs apart. I heard someone offering me a drink, and although when I opened my eyes I realized I had never even seen this person before, they had a straw and glass of water pointed at me so they were my friend.

    As my body continued to take charge, I could hear it screaming out without any concern on if I actually wanted to be shouting or not. I could also feel the cause of the screams – my nether regions were on fire! “This is the stretching” the midwife informed me. Six or seven push/contraction things later and the head was out, best feeling in the whole world and my screaming dropped a hundred or so decibels. I actually felt the head turning too which was an interesting, yet wonderful feeling and was told to give one more push to get the rest out. In all the DVD’s and online clips I had watched of births, it always looked like the body just slipped out, so I was a little surprised by the lumpy feeling that accompanied it. It was like shoulder, shoulder, elbow, elbow, bum, legs, done!

    And then, my life changed forever. The most precious, adorable, perfect thing I had ever laid eyes on was looking back at me. I had always thought ‘ew’ when picturing the whole wet, newborn baby thing being on your skin, yet in this instant I wanted to kiss and cuddle her like I’ve never wanted to kiss and cuddle something before. Even when I looked at my hand and realized she had pooped on me, I didn’t care. It was perfect poop, I loved that poop. The immediate, overwhelming love I had for this perfect little human being filled me from head to toe, I was 100% smitten!

    Unfortunately, because everything happened so quickly, I learned that I was going to need stitches – quite a few stitches. There was some debate on if it was going to require a doctor to do it, or if the midwife was going to do it herself. Apparently it was that bad. Eventually the midwife came back to say she would do it, and not long after I was surprised to see Mc Nasty sticking his head in the door. He wanted to say congratulations. I thanked him, smiled and commented “and I didn’t even have to wake anyone up in the middle of the night”.

    Savannah Alison Buzza was born at 3:05pm. Four hours after my waters were broken, and 55 minutes before the cut off time for the Syntocinon. Weighing in at 3735g, 52cm long and a 35cm head, she managed a breast crawl and attached perfectly within around 15 minutes. I was stitched up and sent over to the labour ward where I spent a single night before coming home to begin the next stage in my life – as a mother.

    I received lots of comments from many of the midwives about the 4 hour labour, especially as I was a first timer. I was just so chuffed that I could stick it to doctors who said 80% of first timers can’t get labour going without the drip. The day started off horribly, and although I felt like I had to fight every step of the way to get what I wanted, all of it was (eventually) achieved. This wouldn’t have been possible without the Kelly and I can’t put it into words how thankful I am that she was there for me. I can’t imagine the horrible experience I would have had if she hadn’t of been there. Although I like to think I am a fairly strong person, I know I don’t stand up for myself well and goodness knows what the doctors would have pushed me into.

    My Grandmother passed in April of this year, and I full believe she sent an angel to look after me – that angel’s name is Kelly.
    Last edited by Haydies; October 30th, 2007 at 07:07 AM. Reason: Spelling

  16. #52

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    Thank you so very much for sharing such an indepth account of your daughters birth with us. Good on you for sticking it to the Dr's and for sticking to your guns. Hopefully you taught those Dr's a lesson that day too. One can only hope hey.

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    Thankyou for sharing that great story Haydies, you are so brave!!

  18. #54

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    Haydies that brought tears to my eyes - and I am at WORK and should be being professional right now LOL!

    Congratulations on such a sterling effort - you showed 'em, girl. Or should I say WOMAN!!!!

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