A labour of love: Jack's birth story
Hello. This is my birth story. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for so long after literally reading hundreds of Bellybelly birth stories during my pregnancy. As a word of warning, it is ridiculously long. However, as one of my girlfriends reminded me so eloquently, “Emma, you pushed a baby out of your VAGINA. Write as much as you want!” So, here it is. :lol:
Note: I just want to voice my utter respect for all women out there who have gone through the birthing experience – whether that’s through c-section, using drugs or natural. To me, it doesn’t matter how you got there – it’s still an amazing feat and I think you all need to be acknowledged.
BUN IN THE OVEN: MY PREGNANCY
For me, having a family has always been a priority. Even before I met DH I was known for my cluckiness. Babies were on my radar. So, once DH and I were engaged, falling pregnant was our top priority. We had always said we’d wait until after we were married to start trying, but temptation got the better of us a few weeks before our wedding date. That one try was enough and two days after our wedding we found out we were having a baby.
My pregnancy was great. I didn’t suffer from morning sickness or any of the other complaints that go hand-in-hand with having a bun in the oven. I had always said I’d stay fit and active during my pregnancy, so I made sure I did one hour every day of some form of exercise. I still credit my ability to keep so active during labour to my fitness levels. I power walked in Centennial Park for 8km every day – right up until the day before I gave birth. Plus, I used the gym (light weights, mind you) and swam up to 1km every few days.
DH had always wanted a boy so he was overjoyed when we were told by the ultrasound lady that she could see “boy bits”. I must admit it took me a few days to register I was having a boy – secretly I was sure I was carrying a girl. We were also told our due date was December 8.
The last weeks of my pregnancy were frustrating. I wanted baby out. I spent a fair amount of my time on Bellybelly, chatting away to our December group about when our bubs would arrive (love you guys!). My midwife would come to my apartment every week for a check-up and every week she would say that everything was on track and to expect to go over my due date. In fact, she penciled in December 21 as my inducement date, just in case. That was enough to get me going. I was adamant I was having this baby before the 21st – I wanted enough time to have a few weeks with him at home and then have Christmas with my family up the coast. So, I started trying all natural methods to get our baby on his way: sex, power walking, raspberry leaf tablets, pineapples and more of the same.
Each day I started getting more aware of my body and thinking, “could this be it?” But really, all I was having was Braxton Hicks and a few period-type cramps. On December 1 my midwife came over and tried to do a stretch and sweep. She told me my cervix was still sitting high up and to the side, so she tried to pull it around. I was afraid it would hurt but it was more uncomfortable than painful. It was also on that day that I had a nesting urge like no other. I spent the entire day scrubbing, de-cluttering, organising and cleaning out our apartment. I was exhausted by 6pm but felt good that things were all done. I even managed to make some lasagna and zucchini bake for the freezer.
On the morning of December 2 I woke up to the strangest thing. I had my hand hanging off the bed and I woke to what felt like someone pushing my hand or giving me a high five. It spooked me for a moment but then I felt calm. It was around 4.30am and I walked into the baby’s room and looked out the window. I had this strange feeling come over me and knew my baby would be here the next day. I even wrote “Jack Hagen will be born on the 03/12/09” in my diary.
I went back to bed but didn’t tell DH what I had felt. I jumped on BB later and told the girls about my weird little experience but didn’t let on that I felt the baby was on its way. All that day I kept imagining my baby coming down the birth canal and my cervix opening (thanks, Juju). I switched my normal office chair for the swiss ball and bounced away for most of the day while I chatted online. I was getting the usual period-type cramps I had felt the day before but nothing too alarming.
GAME ON: MY LABOUR
At around 5pm that afternoon I told DH that I needed a walk and it would be good to “get things moving”. So, we headed to Centennial Park where we did a big power walk. I kept saying to him “oh, I’m feeling cramps” but he kept saying that it was probably nothing. We jumped back in the car and decided that we should have some curry from our favourite Indian place in Bondi for dinner – again, to “get things moving”. So, we parked out the front of our apartment, rather than parking underground, and just as I stepped out of the car I felt a warm gush between my legs. My waters had broken! I yelled to DH who turned around with eyes awide saying, “bullsh#*t?!”
It was the strangest feeling ever – my undies and tights had filled with fluid and it was all gushing down my legs. I didn’t waste time talking, instead running across the road in front of traffic. We jumped in the lifts (more fluid on the ground, whoops!) and I ran into the shower. We stood there for ages, watching this fluid drain out of me, just staring at each other in awe. It was happening, our baby was coming!
DH was keen to call our midwife, so we got on the phone and told her the news. I had also had a bloody show and having very mild contractions. She was great and said to try and sleep tonight and hopefully we would see her in the morning. DH and I called my parents and my sister, who live four hours north, and said that we thought the baby would be here the next day. So, they decided to jump in the car that evening and drive down.
We tidied up the house and packed the final items for my hospital bag so we were organised. My contractions were very mild and around 5 minutes apart. So, I took some panadol before going to bed. DH went to sleep immediately but I was just too excited. I rang one of my friends, who I had met at an active birth class, and she was also having mild contractions.
My waters were still trickling out so I slept with a towel underneath incase of leaks. I only managed to get around one hour’s sleep that night before waking DH at 4am when my contractions had turned up a notch. They were now too strong to lie in bed so I decided to start using some of Juju’s techniques that I read in her book, Birth Skills. DH and I also decided to start timing the contractions properly. So, we headed out to the living room where I would bounce on the swiss ball and listen to DH, who was reading extracts from the book. Each time I’d get a contraction I’d get up and stamp my feet over to the kitchen, then stand over the breakfast bar and continue stamping. DH would time the contractions and write them down. We did this until 6am.
Things got more intense so I decided to start using vocalization when I stamped at the breakfast bar while DH counted my contractions out loud. Then I’d go back to the ball where DH would talk to me, helping me visualise my cervix opening and being 5cm dilated. It was all very calm and quite bearable at this stage. The pain was in my lower tummy and thighs. We continued doing this until 8am when my contractions were consistently 3 minutes apart and lasting 60 seconds. We called my midwife who said that if I wanted I could head into the birthing centre. I knew it was close but I didn’t feel an urgent need to go in, so we waited another hour. I had always said that I’d stay home as long as I could.
The hospital was only 7 minutes away (embarrassing, but yes, we had timed it previously!) so I had two contractions in the car. It felt awful being strapped down and sitting while going through one so I started to cry and felt myself going out of “the zone”. I was so eager to get back into the little routine we had going at home.
Once we got to the hospital and were checked in our midwife let us into our room. She had two other women birthing and said for me to continue what I was doing and call if I needed her. We were happy with that arrangement as my contractions had seemed to die down slightly and we wanted to get another routine in place. My mum called and asked if she wanted me there – which I quickly replied, “yes!”
So, mum came up with a coffee for herself and DH and settled herself in. It felt great to have both mum and DH there even though we hadn’t planned for mum to be there. DH seemed relieved, too! My midwife came in to see how we were going and I said that my contractions, which had been so consistent at home, had gone out of whack and were now more like 5 minutes apart. She said this was normal and to just relax while I could.
So, I took her advice and sat on the bed while mum read a magazine and DH read my more from the book. It wasn’t long and the contractions were back with a vengeance, and I was feeling the need to stand over the end of the bed and stamp through them while DH counted out loud for me. It felt great to hear him get to 30, which meant I was half way through them. After each one I’d sit back down on the bed and chat away to mum and DH – looking back now I was so naïve thinking, “this is a breeze!”
At 10am my midwife came in and asked if I wanted an internal done. I said I would after my next contraction. So, I jumped on the bed and she quickly checked to say I was 3cm but she was able to easily stretch me out another centimeter. She said the baby’s head was nice and low and she was really happy with my progress. I was so distraught at hearing I was only 3cm – I was so focused on that 5cm and was sure I was getting there. However, she assured me that I was progressing well and I should keep doing what I was doing.
At that stage I got out my little paddle pop stick – marked with centimetre marks for visualization – from my hospital bag, and zoned in on that while I rested between contractions. I also decided to change my stamping technique at the end of the bed because my thighs were beginning to ache during contractions. So, I started to pace around the room and bang together my stress balls while DH counted. I didn’t last long doing this as it wasn’t as effective getting rid of the pain, so mum and our midwife suggested I hop in the shower. BLISS! It felt great to do something different and also to hone those showerheads directly onto my tummy. I still stamped during contractions and started to get loud through vocalization.
I kept asking if people could hear me outside but my midwife assured me they couldn’t and I was doing so well. I must have stayed in the shower for an hour (sorry, Sydney Water!) and by the end of it I was sounding like another woman – a very loud and primal woman – while using vocalization. It felt great to be so loud and it definitely helped to “match the pain” as Juju says in her book. I couldn’t quite recognize my own voice but really didn’t care because the pain was getting much stronger.
My waters were still leaking (they leaked right up til bub’s birth!) and poor mum and DH were always following me around, replacing my pads. I changed into my undies and DH’s old rugby t-shirt and started stamping again, which was my favourite technique. My midwife would come in now and then, just sitting quietly and watching me go through a contraction, and then saying a quiet word to mum or DH. I really liked that she let me birth in the way I wanted to but also gave advice if I ever asked for it.
I told her my thighs were starting to really hurt so she suggested I lean over the swiss ball on the mat. I tried that but hated it, so we set up a mat and stacked beanbags up with a sheet over the top so I could lie on my side, propped up, and then tapped my ankles together and vocalized through contractions. DH tried to help by massaging my thighs. It was much harder doing this but I knew I had to rest my body because I had been stamping and on my feet since 4am. We were there for around half an hour when we got back in the shower. It was around lunchtime by now and while mum and DH ate their lunch, always getting up when I had a contraction to count, the pain intensified. It was around this stage it all gets a little hazy.
At around 2pm my midwife came in and I asked for another internal – surely I was close? When she told me I was 5cm I was upset as I felt like I was so much further along. She told me this was great news and that things would progress much more quickly now.
At one moment I would be in the shower, yelling long and LOUD ahhhhhhhhh’s during contractions, and stamping my feet, and at another I would be marching around the room with my stress balls. At around 3pm the pain upped another notch and I moved into the bathroom where I would pace back and forth from one wall to another, while DH would count the contractions, which were now sometimes lasting 90 seconds. In between I would sit down on the bed and try in vain to relax but I was starting to crack.
The contractions were at times only 1 minute apart and the pain was getting the better of me (it was very much a mind over matter experience for me). I remember walking from wall to wall, yelling AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!, and thinking, “I can’t bear this any more”. That was the first sign of negative talk and it frightened me. My midwife came in and saw that I was starting to panic. So, she told DH to place his hand on my chest and tell me to “breathe” while I was resting. It really helped. The breathing was one thing I hadn’t added to my techniques, so we started including it in our routine. DH would count and mum would tell me “breathe, breathe, good, good!”
We stayed in that bathroom for what felt like hours but was probably more like one hour. I was in so much pain at this stage that I couldn’t vocalize or talk any more, so would just breathe really heavily and, at the amusement of DH and mum, I would bang my stress balls onto the wall with fury at the end of each contraction – it was my kooky way to finalise each contraction.
My midwife came in and suggested I try the bath. So, she ran the water and after a contraction I hopped in, lying on my back with the stress balls in each hand. The plan was to bang the balls on the edge of the bed through contractions but I only lasted a few minutes – it was pure agony going through a contraction. So, I hopped straight out and continued walking back and forth from wall to wall in the bathroom. I must note that at this stage I felt like I was in a tunnel or a mist or fog: the pain was so intense I can’t quite describe it. I’m not sure what it was like for other women, but for me it was so overwhelming with contractions arriving on top of each other and only having a minutes rest at some stages.
At around 5pm I was a mess. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t cry out. All I could do was reach out to mum and moan “Muuuuuum, oh muuuuum!” which, mum now tells me, broke her heart to see me in such pain. I remember mum reaching to me while the midwife went outside and saying, “Em, have some gas. Don’t be a hero!” She kept saying that I didn’t need to go through with this pain any longer and the gas would help. I had always said I wanted a totally natural labour but by this stage I was in desperate need of something, anything, to help with the pain. So, I nodded and mum told DH to go out and ask the midwife for the gas. She promptly wheeled it in and gave me instructions on how to use it.
The first few sucks felt strange and when I went to talk I thought my voice had gone all funny, which I mentioned to everyone, and I had everyone in hysterics. Apparently it had gone to my head! Anyway, after a few more instructions I had that gas down pat and it was my best friend. I would suck on it as soon as I would feel a contraction coming, take three big gulps of the stuff, then walk over to the end of the bed and sway my hips while DH counted. It was wonderful to take the edge off and I began to feel in control again in some small way.
I’m not sure if it was the gas or the pain or the two combined but it was at this stage that I started to change into a crazed woman. I was nasty. I swore. And I threatened to bite anyone who dared to take the gas from me. I had everyone in the room laughing, which must have lightened the mood for them all. I remember at one stage looking at mum and my midwife (who both have two kids) yelling, “you two have NO idea what this is like!!” DH’s phone rang at some stage – apparently it was my sister – and I yelled out, “tell them to bugger off!” Charming!
It was also that this stage that my midwife started to get excited as I started saying “I can’t do this!” and even said “That’s it. Give me an epidural!” Apparently she pulled DH aside and said that I was showing classic signs of transition and it wouldn’t be long now. After reading so many BB birthing stories myself I knew that this was transition but it didn’t stop me saying crazy things.
Mum started saying to me, “Em, let’s get this baby out.” She was psyching me up to get ready to push. It was great even though I was in so much pain and acting like a complete loony. At 6pm my midwife told us that she had to go, even though she was so torn to stay. She said that she knew it wouldn’t be long but she had another commitment she couldn’t get out of. So, while she was kissing me goodbye another woman came into the room. I saw her and yelled accusingly, “Who are you?!” as if she was some criminal. I cringe to think about all of the things I said to people! Then, a bit later, she left the room and I yelled, “where is that lady going?!”
It turns out that woman, Sue, was a midwife from the hospital suites upstairs as my new midwife was busy with another labour in the next room. Sue turned out to be a godsend. She really helped me get through transition. I started to feel different and told her that I had pressure in my bum. She said she would do an internal if I wanted so before long she was saying, “I can feel a head! You’re ready to go!”
I actually knew I was ready to push before she had told me because I had reached down and felt for myself – I’ll never forget that feeling. I could feel with my middle finger a slimy wet thing that I knew was my baby’s head. That feeling gave me a new strength and I knew it wouldn’t be long. It was also at this stage that Sue took away my beloved gas, much to my distress.
So, while Sue got on her gloves and got things ready, we all contemplated which position I should push in. I tried standing, squatting, on all fours, but ended up lying on my back holding by knees back. Sue told me when to push and where to put my energy. She really helped and she kept telling me how well I was doing. Then my midwife came in and told Sue she could go back upstairs. My midwife told us she could see hair and that with a bit more pushing we’d have a baby very soon. I felt the urge to use gravity, so we switched to an all fours position where I was leaning over a heap of beanbags, which was propped up by pillows and DH’s legs. He stood there for 20 minutes while I pushed and it turns out he couldn’t feel his legs by the end of it – he hadn’t said a word and mum was horrified when she found out!
My midwife told me that with each contraction to push three times and to not cry out but to use that energy to push. That direction really worked for me, even though I still let out an almighty moan with each push. I couldn’t help it. It just roared out of me and apparently my sister, brother-in-law and father were sitting outside and could hear “this woman” scream out and wondered who on earth could be making such a noise! Apparently they thought there were two women giving birth because I was making two different noises – one was low and guttural and one was more recognizable as my voice.
I pushed for 40 minutes but it felt like 10. I was so completely in the zone that I wasn’t talking to anyone. I just screamed out this low, primal moan when it was time to push and put every other bit of energy thinking about meeting my baby. Mum now tells me that she was getting worried because a big blue vein appeared on my temple!
My midwife told me that the baby’s head was starting to crown and to expect a stinging sensation. I pushed and his head crowned and I screamed “OWWWW!” and she said, “Yes, I know but you’re doing it!”. I remember slightly worrying about tearing but I was so desperate to get him out that I didn’t really care. His head slipped back in and with the next contraction his head came out again. Mum now tells me she watched his head, forehead and eyes slowly start to emerge – this is when she urged DH to come down and watch (he had been adamant the entire pregnancy he couldn’t watch). But, to everyone’s amazement, he went down to see his son enter the world.
My midwife told me not to push (the cord was around his neck) but after a few seconds I said I couldn’t wait and within one more push, which was out of my control, his head and little arm where out – apparently he came into the world in a superman pose. She told me to push one more time and he was out. There was so much going on but I remember mum crying, “Oh, Emma!” over and over with such emotion it still brings tears to my eyes. And I remember my baby crying.
My midwife had placed him on the mat and I turned around and pick him up. He was screaming, purple and covered in blood and easily the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I picked him up with such awe and DH came over to be with us. Mum cut the cord (DH didn’t want to!) and ran out of the room to tell my family everything was okay. While I was admiring our son, Jack Francis, my midwife pushed on my tummy, tugged on the cord and the placenta slid out (I asked for an injection rather than waiting for the placenta to birth naturally).
Mum came back into the room and asked if she could take Jack out for two minutes to show everyone outside waiting. So, she whisked him away while DH and I got ourselves onto the bed where we could hold him again. I put him on my chest to see if he was interested and he latched on for 15 minutes. Mum asked if it was okay if the others could come in so I agreed if I could first have a shower; I hopped in to wash while DH held Jack. It felt great to wash and then climb back into bed with my new family. My sister, brother-in-law and father came in to admire Jack. My midwife brought in two trays of food for DH and I (I hadn’t eaten in close to 24 hours), so we wolfed down some dinner while everyone clucked over our little bundle. We unwrapped him to look at his tiny little body and couldn’t get over how alert he was. His big eyes were looking everywhere and he seemed really calm. My family stayed for around an hour, before leaving DH and I alone.
HE’S HERE: HOSPITAL AND GOING HOME
It turns out I didn’t have any tears and was good to go upstairs to a suite as soon as I felt ready. We thought DH wasn’t allowed to stay (we later found out he could), so after much reluctance he left and another midwife came in to do some checks on Jack. Then Jack and I went upstairs to meet a new midwife who turned out to be one of my favourites during my hospital stay. She was very matronly and firm in her way but also full of kindness and good advice. She helped me with breastfeeding and took Jack into another room at around 3am to give me some much-needed rest. I hadn’t slept in 24 hours and was starting to feel delirious.
I ended up staying in hospital for three nights. I had planned to go home the next morning but decided that I wasn’t ready. I was getting such great care at hospital and was learning so much about feeding and simple things like settling, wrapping, bathing and even changing nappies that I knew I needed more time. I’m so glad I did that now.
On the second night in hospital I started to get really sore nipples – they had blisters and were bleeding. My milk had started to come in, too, so my boobs were engorged like rockmelons. I was getting to the stage that I was scared to feed. So, after the help of a midwife on night duty, we decided to express milk to rest my poor, sore nipples. It worked a treat! I actually ended up expressing for three days and by then I had my latching on worked out so now feeding is pain free and really enjoyable.
Jack is now five weeks old and just a beautiful baby boy. Admittedly, the first three weeks were a fog and I simply floated through the days. It’s hard work getting used to your life changing forever, looking after this teeny tiny baby who relies on you for everything. I have been so lucky with such a supporting husband and family, otherwise I don’t know how I could have coped.
DH, bless him, counted every second of every contraction during my active labour. It’s now our family joke to ask him, “Nick, can you count for me?” And mum, who wasn’t ever supposed to be there, was the most amazing presence in the room. From telling me to breathe to giving me advice and comforting me, I couldn’t have done it without her. They were both my saviors and I feel even closer to them after the experience.
Now that our little man is here DH and I are enjoying every minute with him. There’s nothing that can prepare you for the love you will feel for your child. I know it’s something you hear all the time, but it’s true. I think about the birth, particularly the moment when I pushed Jack into this world, every night before I go to sleep. Despite the pain and intensity I cherish that moment and would do it all over again within a heartbeat.
Thank you for reading! x
Vital stats
Name - Jack Francis
Pre-labour – 12 hours
Active labour – 9 hours
Apgar – 9 and 9
Weight – 3.77kg
Length – 53cm
