Malaila's wonderful homebirth (extremely long- don't say I didn't warn you)
On Tuesday 4th of January I remember waking up thinking I just want to meet my baby and when is she going to come? I mean I’d felt like this for the past few weeks but now I was getting really frustrated and impatient. It had been a long pregnancy as earlier in the year I found out at 10weeks that I had miscarried weeks earlier, I was totally devastated as Paul and I had a previous loss in October the previous year while on our honeymoon as well and it also took us about 12mths to finally conceive this time. I had to make the decision to have a D&C or Just wait for my little angel to pass on its own. I made the heartbreaking decision to go through with the D&C as the waiting was too painful. After this I fell into a heap and wondered if I’d ever be blessed with Children. Paul was a great support and helped me get through the next few weeks. I was told by the obstetrician to wait a few months before trying to conceive again and to take low dose aspirin next time. I thought to myself, stuff that I have waited long enough I’m not waiting another few months! So with that Paul and I decided not to take her advice and started straight away.
I knew my cycle may not get back to normal after the miscarriage so wasn't sure when I was going to ovulate, so we just kept trying as often as possible. Twenty six days after my D&C I started to bleed, I was so upset because I wanted to get pregnant straight away. But then I thought maybe it's my body's way of giving me more time to grieve our loss. After all I hadn’t given myself much time to deal with it. So I picked myself up ready for the next month. And yep back at it again, I mean it was becoming a chore and no longer really enjoyable and I’m sure Paul felt the same way. But yet we kept it up knowing it's the only way we could work towards getting our much wanted child. Paul then tells me he was going away on a fishing trip for a few weeks. I totally cracked it checking the calendar to make sure he wasn't away during ovulation time. Thankfully it looked like he'd be leaving soon after. So that made me calm down again. But it would be very close especially since I wasn’t exactly sure how on schedule my cycle was going to be, and not that it ever was. While Paul was away I was waiting it out before I could test (I mean I’d become a pee on a stick addict, gosh the amount I'd spent on home pregnancy tests was unbelievable!). I also started to take aspirin because I thought just in case I don’t want to start taking it too late if I am pregnant. I was becoming impatient and really wanted to test, but knowing that it was probably too early anyway but I just couldn't help myself so I tested. I did the test and left it sitting on the sink while I waited but somehow I got distracted and left the room and returned about half an hour later. Damn I thought now the test is not accurate because it's out of the recommended reading time. I decided to look anyway- and there was the faintest of feint lines, I thought to myself it's probably just an evaporation line so thought I’d just retest tomorrow. But obviously I didn't make it through the rest of the day and tested again- and nope no line. I reassured myself that maybe it was too early and just retest in the morning. So first thing in the morning I go and test, and sure enough there is a line, feint but definitely there. I wait awhile before telling Paul and make sure I do another test before telling him, like me I’m sure he was as sick of the disappointment as I was. I finally get around to ringing Paul to tell him, and he's not overly excited (either was I) as we both didn't want to get our hopes out as the pain would be too great.
The next few weeks of waiting was becoming unbearable, I didn't even bother going to the Dr for confirmation because I figured I'd wait til I was further along. But at about 5weeks5days I began to bleed, I was devastated and started crying uncontrollably. I rang Paul that morning at work and just burst into tears, he tried to reassure me but I was a mess. I decided to ring the OB I seen for the D&C and she told me to meet her at the hospital in an hour to have an ultrasound. I was so scared of seeing my little baby on the screen with no heartbeat but I tried to keep it together. When lying on the bed ready to have the ultrasound I remember saying in my head please be a heartbeat and repeated it over and over in my head. I was shaking inside with fear that it would be the same as last time and I’d never get to see a heartbeat. As they started to scan my belly I could see there was something there but I needed to see the heartbeat, as she zoomed in you could see a little flicker- YES there was a heartbeat, it was slow but a heartbeat all the same. The OB was also there with the lady doing the ultrasound and they talked over me like I wasn’t there I mean gee a little acknowledgement and explanation of what they were looking at and talking about wouldn’t have gone astray. I left feeling a little reassured but still completely nervous as it was still early days. As the next few weeks progressed I continued to bleed, but held out hope our little Bub was still ok. I had another unofficial ultrasound at 7weeks by the OB and yep our little one was still holding in strong. Mind you I would never let her do another ultrasound again as she did an trans vaginal ultrasound, and I’ve never felt so violated by someone that should have taken a little more care and had a little more respect of me. I thought I’m glad I’ve decided to have a homebirth.
By 8weeks I was still bleeding and was due to have another ultrasound, Paul couldn't be there so Mum came down to be with me. It was a nervous wait in the waiting room as I had a huge bleed the previous night (well huge to me anyway). As they scanned for Bub I held my breath with my heart beating a million miles an hour. I asked is it alive, she responded oh yes. With me thinking why didn't you tell me straight away? She then showed me Bub's little heart beating away. I lay there and cried I was so happy Bub was still holding in there!
As my pregnancy progressed I became more and more restrictive on things I would do and basically just house bound myself and secluded myself from the outside world. With morning sickness this wasn't hard to do. Coming up to the 12week ultrasound I was as nervous as usual, Paul came with me this time which was good. But still I needed to see my little one still growing nicely. And yes Bub was still there and Bub’s heart was beating away and she was moving about, it was just amazing to see. Paul and I were so happy and knew this was the time to start telling people. This was then the time I decided to tell my midwife who I’d only seen once for the last pregnancy, but decided this time to wait til I was further along as I didn’t want to waste her time if it was just going to end up as another loss. Paul and I had decided to have a homebirth, well ok so maybe I had decided and had to convince Paul. Although he wasn’t completely happy with the idea he came around to the idea in the end as he trusted and supported my decision. I had chosen to have a homebirth for a number of reasons, but really why go to hospital when you can birth at home?
As the days past I was still no less nervous and in fact in some ways I became worse. There was so many restrictions I had put on myself and what I’d allow myself to do and eat, I knew they were irrational but I had to do it because I felt that it was keeping Bub safe. I know Paul became frustrated at this but he would still be supportive of my decisions even though he didn't agree, probably because any time he tried to raise them with me I’d get upset. It was a long wait between the 12week and 20week ultrasound, and it was hard for me to relax and know my baby was safe. I guess deep down I always knew she'd be ok but because my body had failed me before I found it hard to trust my instincts. At about 16-17weeks I felt Bub move for the first time, wow what an amazing experience! You would think this would help me feel more relaxed but when I didn't feel Bub move I would get rather worried but I had to keep telling myself she was ok, or more to the point be told by other people that she was ok. The day of the 20 week ultrasound finally came around and Paul and I were discussing whether we wanted to find out the sex. He did but he didn't, and me well I couldn't wait. But in the end we decided we wanted to find out. When we found out it was a girl I wasn't surprised at all because I always had a feeling I’d have a girl even before I was pregnant, sounds strange but this feeling was very strong. I did however start to doubt myself and the ultrasound so I had mentally prepared myself if she happened to come out the opposite sex.
At 20weeks was also the time I stopped seeing the Obstetrician, I had planned on telling her at this time that we had decided to have a homebirth but I so couldn’t do it and chickened out so I left it up to my MW to tell her. Well when I had my last appointment I was shocked in the way she treated me. She was totally opposed to homebirths and told me that my baby and I would die. She continued to lecture me throughout the appointment as I held back the tears. She was incredibly rude and really mean. Then she told me how irresponsible it was of my midwife to let me have a homebirth considering I’d had miscarriages, for one it’s my decision and two how’s having a miscarriage got anything to do with having a homebirth. She also told me I needed to get a second opinion from another OB. I thought to myself ummm no thanks don’t need a second lecture. I got out of that appointment and as soon as I got in the car I burst into tears, and thought thank goodness I don’t have to see her again!
For the rest of the pregnancy I never stopped stressing and worrying about my precious little gift that was growing inside of me, I wanted her here so badly that it was making me become irrational about how I was to keep her protected from everything. The restrictions I had put on myself were so great that I knew this baby needed to come soon or things wouldn’t be good. I was so scared to eat for fear of getting listeria but knew not eating was just as bad. So there were becoming very few things in the end that I’d allow myself to eat. The restrictions I was placing on myself and Paul were even becoming so bad that I’d make Paul shower before he’d hug me and we rarely even kissed anymore because of my fear that I’d catch something and pass it on to the baby. So yes this baby needed to come soon because I felt as if I was pushing Paul away too much and needed to regain that closeness we once had.
So back to Tuesday 4th of January, I had a feeling things were going to happen soon I just didn't know when exactly so I went to bed that night thinking tonight would be great! I woke up on the Wednesday at 4am, I had had a dream I was in labour and I was getting pains, and funny thing was when I woke up they were the same sort of pains I was dreaming about. I was getting a period type pain with the contractions and they were every 10mins or so. I'd try to sleep but every time I’d get the pain it would wake me up or stop me from falling asleep. So at about 5am I got up to go to the toilet and noticed I had a pink tinged mucousy discharge- I thought to myself, is this the "show" they talk about. I decided at this point to send my MW an email to let her know what was happening and to let me know when she was awake so I could call her to let her know what was going on. Paul was awake at this stage and he asked me was I in labour. I thought how the heck would I know never been in labour before. So I told him it could be but I wasn’t sure but that I thought he should still go to work because I could be like this for hours or it may even stop I really had no clue at this stage.
At 8am I got a text message from the MW to let me know she was up so I gave her a call. She told me to get as much rest as I can and to eat small meals frequently to keep my energy up. After that I decided to get up because this sleeping thing just wasn't happening so I got up and had a shower to start my day. I then decided to go into cleaning mode, I guess I should have been resting but couldn't help myself so I did the vacuuming and washing and things, and during that time the contractions started to get a little more painful and more frequent however when I stopped they slowed down and became less intense. The student midwife called around that morning to see how I was doing. I was ok just wanted things to pick up a bit. I was also hoping that things wouldn't stop completely. The day progressed and I tried to rest but really wasn’t working I may have dozed off for a couple of minutes but soon woke up from the pain, not that it was bad at that stage but just annoying enough to keep me from falling or staying asleep. I think I’d updated my MW by text message to let her know what was happening and that it seemed like things weren’t progressing and that it was frustrating me. I really can’t remember a lot. Paul was also texting me throughout the day to see how I was, I’d give him an update every time he asked but really it was the same thing or that at times it seemed to have slowed down. By the time Paul got home from work though the contractions seemed to become more regular but still weren’t bad enough for me to think “this is it”. By 6ish things started to pick up though, and while I was eating tea I actually had to stop eating during contractions. Paul was oblivious to what was happening at this stage, but I thought I’d just keep it to myself for a bit. By 7pm the contractions were definitely more intense and were about 7mins apart, I really didn’t like timing them because it would break my concentration so just gave up and figured Paul could time them if he wanted too. I was in the lounge room at this stage leaning over my gym ball as this seemed to help a bit. Paul on the other hand decided playing facebook games was much more fun. But during a contraction I’d bang something or yell at him so he’d know to come and be with me. I made him rub my back, not that I had any pain in my back but it was enough to distract and calm me from the pain I was getting. Paul continued to run back to the computer room to play facebook games in between my contractions. I was getting a little annoyed at this but was hoping he would come to the realisation himself that he needed to be here with me. I guess as the contractions got closer together he had less time to go and play them so he just stayed with me. My MW rang at one stage to see how I was going but Paul talked to her and he kept her up to date. I’m not sure what times these were as at this time I was just focussing on myself. At one stage I walked into the kitchen to get a drink, and felt leaning over the kitchen bench also helped with the contractions. I soon became bored of this and decided I thought I might need to go to the toilet so I went. I had a few contractions on there and it wasn’t too bad but I was becoming restless and tired so got up and decided to kneel down one the floor and lean forward and rest my head on the bed. As things progressed I was thinking gee a nap wouldn’t go astray because I was rather tired, but knew that was definitely out of the question. I did try lying down but heck that made the contractions worse, it was horrible! It was way better standing. My MW rang again at one stage, not sure what time it was now but the contractions were quite intense but I was coping. Paul told her I was doing fine and that we were right without her at the moment. But I did think to myself maybe I need her here now I really didn’t know. We just had candles lit for light especially because the brightness of lights were too much for me, so found this much better.
The night progressed and the contractions were becoming closer together, I think it was about 11.30pm and I said to Paul I think we need to call the MW. But I didn’t want her to have to come if things were still awhile off, so Paul timed how far apart my contractions were because at this stage I really had no perception of time. He told me they were about 2mins, I doubted him and said are you sure? He was sure, and this just proved I really did have no perception of time. At this stage I was leaning on Paul and had my arms around him, and he had his around me. But because he had to go and call the MW I had to find another position. So I leant up against the sink in the ensuite, as this is where we were standing anyway. Paul went and rang the MW to tell her that my contractions were about 2mins apart. I could hear her on the phone as well because Paul was standing right beside me and I heard her say she was on her way. I felt a little relieved, but knowing she had to travel from about an hour away so she wasn’t going to be here instantly. I went back to standing leaning up against Paul. I remember asking him every few minutes what time it was so I could see if it was getting close to when she was getting here. The last time I asked, Paul said she should be here soon. I was thinking to myself I hope so! Paul then realised that we didn’t have a light globe out the front for lighting so he left me quickly to replace the blown globe. I mean I’d only been asking for weeks for him to put one in but I guess now was as good a time as any. Not Long after Paul heard a car and he said I think that’s her now. I was thinking thank goodness for that and felt I relaxed more from then on.
While Paul went to the door to let her in I went back to sitting on the toilet. Contractions were intense but I felt I was managing ok, and Bub would kick in between contractions at times which was a bit painful but at least I knew she was still ok in there. I remember hearing her walk into the room I didn’t see her because I had my eyes tightly shut partly because it helped me concentrate on working through the contractions and partly because I was feeling a little uncomfortable and embarrassed about being naked from the waist down in front of people. I mean if I have my eyes closed they can’t see me right? At some stage while I was sitting on the toilet the MW asked if it was ok to check Bub’s heart rate with the Doppler I was fine with this. I barely noticed her doing it because I was remaining focussed on getting through each contraction. Not long after the midwife arrived I could hear the student midwife arrive and still my eyes remained tightly shut. Then it was the 2nd midwife who arrived next, I hadn’t met her before but the main MW introduced us when she arrived. Not that I directly acknowledged her at the time because I was trying to remain focussed but I did appreciate her introducing her. After a while I went back to standing up holding on to Paul. They were still trying to get the temperature of the birth pool right for me to get in. I remember thinking I hope they hurry up because I really want to get in. In what seemed like forever the pool was finally ready. We had the birth pool set up in the lounge/dining area. I was a little embarrassed walking out to the pool, oh yes at this point I was still a little self-conscious. Part of me still wanted to hide away in the ensuite with my eyes shut, because knowing that I’d have to open my eyes to walk out to the pool made me a little nervous. But in the end my desire to get in the pool overrode that so I walked out. I climbed into the pool with Paul’s help, the water was great. While the contractions were still intense being in the water made it a lot more comfortable. As the contractions continued whilst I was in the pool I was getting tired and kept telling them I just want to skip to the end part, like come on I wasn’t asking too much. I remember thinking why can’t the break between contractions just be a little longer to give me a rest.
At times I remember the MW checking the heart rate but this didn’t bother me, after all it was reassuring to know everything was still ok. The midwives sat back and left me to do my own thing which was good because unless they wanted to get in the pool and push this baby out for me there was not a lot they could do anyway and appreciated having the space to myself. I’m not sure how long I had been in the pool but suddenly I just got the urge to push, it kind of took over like I didn’t have control over it. I thought oh so this is what it feels like to want to push. It wasn’t very painful just felt weird, which I think made me hold back a little on pushing. At this stage they came back over to check on me. I think after a couple of pushes (can’t really remember), I felt a pop as my membranes ruptured. It was a weird sensation. This was about 2am, not that I was looking at the time but that’s what Paul told me. I continued to push with each contraction, although holding back at times because it just felt weird like this horrible feeling you get in your bottom, but the MW encouraged me to keep pushing. It was taking what seemed like forever, I mean baby why don’t you want to come out already? At one stage I put my hand down to feel her head like wow! I touched my baby! Her head just seemed to be stuck in the same spot and it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere. My MW encouraged me to get into different positions in the pool, which was hard at first because I seemed to feel “frozen” and not want to move from where I was. I did try a few different positions but there seemed to be no more progress with each push, like what a waste of a push. It was then decided that I needed to get out of the pool to try something else. I was thinking to myself, I’ve got to get out of the what now? I really didn’t want to get out because I was comfortable where I was but knew I had to try something different. Mind you stepping out of the pool with a head between your legs is no easy feat, oh and then walking to the bathroom wasn’t the most comfortable walking experience.
So it was decided I try pushing while sitting on the toilet. At this stage I was getting quite exhausted and just wanted her out, I was pushing as hard as I could but it was hard because I felt like I had no energy left. My MW had also checked her heart rate a few more times, but I was no longer concerned because I knew at this stage everything would be ok. Yes I finally started to trust my instincts which I hadn’t done up until now. Pushing on the toilet wasn’t working either so then they suggested I stand up and squat holding onto the sink. I barely could hold myself up and my legs felt like jelly and were shaking. I tried to push but I felt like I was going to collapse, now was the time I wished I had done a little more exercise during my pregnancy and rested more during the day. I think it was the last time the MW went to check her heart rate and we she couldn’t get one, usually I’d be concerned but somehow I knew she’d still be ok. With the next contraction I yelled out to Paul to hold be up from behind so I could use him to hold me up as I squatted, he basically took all my weight as I just focussed all my energy into pushing. I’m not sure how many pushes but it wasn’t many before her head was finally made some progress, yay I thought. But I was also thinking, come out already I want to meet you! With a few more pushes her head came out then with the next one out she came at 3.30am, she let out a little cry which I was thankful for. It was such an amazing feeling, that sudden relief as her body came out and was passed straight to me. I did it! I had a baby! She was gorgeous (of course) and that first cuddle was amazing her warm and gooey skin such an amazing indescribable feeling! I did check not long after to make sure she was in fact a girl and yep she was. She poo’d and weed on me straight away but I did not care I had my baby, my perfect little girl. We named her Malaila Joy, her middle name having special meaning to me because we had chosen to name her after my Nan who I was very close to and had passed away a few years ago.
After she was born they lowered me to the ground to sit leaning up against the bath whilst the 2ndMW massaged my fundus, as I must have been bleeding. I didn’t care because I now had my beautiful little girl safely in my arms. When I was sitting down I started getting uncomfortable and cramps so decided I would get up and sit onto the toilet for the placenta to come out. As I stood this huge (well seemed huge) gush of blood came out and as it hit the bathroom tiles it splashed halfway up the wall of the bathroom. It was kind of funny, I mean I didn’t care that I had just redecorated my bathroom and I also wasn’t concerned about the loss of blood because figured I was in good hands and would only be worried if the midwives were. So while I sat on the toilet I pushed the placenta out, it was only about 10-15mins after she was born and was such a relief to get that out also. While I sat there for a bit they started to clean up and run a bath for Malaila and I. Whilst in the bath with the Placenta floating in the bucket still attached to Malaila, it was time to cut the cord. Paul was asked if he wanted to cut it but he was worried that it would hurt her. I mean I’d only been telling him for weeks that she won’t be able to feel it. But it took the midwives to convince Paul that it wouldn’t hurt her and he agreed to cut it then. After having a bath Malaila and I hopped into bed to snuggle and give her a feed. My tiredness magically seemed to disappear as I was now wide awake and couldn’t stop staring at my beautiful baby girl all day. Still it’s hard to believe that I finally have my beautiful baby girl. And although the wait was long and hard, she was definitely worth every minute!
Stats:
Time- 0330 6/01/11
weight- 7lb3oz or 3.26kg
length-48cm
HC-34.5cm
