Sebastian's Birth - very long!
"Sebastian's Birth Story", or "How my drug-free birth-centre birth made me feel like Wonderwoman" :D
I was due on the Friday of that week, and on Monday we had had a fantastic thunderstorm. I was kind of over being pregnant and hoped that perhaps the storm would get things moving. A little back pain and increased BH contractions made me think that perhaps things were on the way, but when I attended my Birth Centre appt the midwife told me that the reason I had been having back pain was that the baby was starting to turn posterior. I was not only disappointed, but also worried about a painful and extended labour, so went home kind of bummed!
Around 4pm on Wednesday afternoon, I begin to feel some period pain, but had felt in the week or two before, so wasn’t that excited about it. However, as I start cooking tea at about 7:30, it begins to get more insistent. M and I sit down in front of the TV to have dinner at about 8pm, and I watch while on hands and knees on the floor, in an attempt to make sure the baby didn’t turn any more. By this stage the period pains have started to become quite regular, and are tighter across my lower belly. I say to M, “It’s possible I’m having contractions.” He looks a little surprised and says, “Really?!”
The TV programme finishes, and I tell M he should go to bed, since if it is labour, he needs to sleep for a while, and if it isn’t, he still has to go to work the next day! I go over and post on Bellybelly (!) and then continue to watch TV for a while, trying to ignore the contractions. I also have some cramping and diarrhoea. I decide to go for a walk at around 11pm to see what would happen, so harness up the dog, and off we go around the block. I start to time the contractions again. They’re coming about 4 mins apart, and lasting for about 1 ½ minutes. As we start up our street towards home, I can no longer just walk through them; I have to stop and breathe. Things are getting serious!
Back home, I page the midwife and tell her what is happening. She asks if I am OK to stay home for now (yes) and if the contractions are regular (yes) and if the baby is moving in between contractions (yes). She suggests I get into the shower for pain relief, but to try and rest as much as possible. I try to sleep, but the contractions are too intense when I lie down. I also have to run to the toilet again. The pain is making me quite nauseous, and I hurt in my hips and pelvis. The shower helps with the pain but I’m soon too hot.
I ring the midwife again. It’s about 1:50 am and I’m not sure what I should do. She suggests to come in to the Birth Centre; there is another woman in labour so she’ll be there anyway. I wake M, who is fairly groggy, understandably! He starts to get dressed while I go and hang out on the toilet again, with more diarrhoea. There is some pressure in my bottom at the start of the contractions now.
Driving through the early morning streets is surreal. The midwife, Jenny, lets us in and we walk through to our room. There’s a double bed, bathroom, and couches, mat and birth ball. Jenny checks my blood pressure, pulse and temperature, and asks if I would like her to do an internal exam. I decline, deciding that I’m already in quite a bit of pain and fairly tired, and I’m not sure I can take the disappointment of only being a couple of centimetres dilated. She then leaves us alone so she can attend to the other labouring woman, telling us to call if we need her. M lies on the bed and I suggest he sleep some more, while I go in the shower.
Again, the shower helps, but I’m starting to get kind of bored with the whole idea of contractions! They just keep coming, very regular and quite intense. I feel the need to vocalise through the pain, a soft moaning seems to help get the pain out of my body. I start to wonder why there isn’t a better way to do this, and I also start to think I will need some pain relief. The midwife has a copy of my birthplan, and she knows that I’ve nominated gas and air as my pain relief, but not anything else. The Birth Centre offers pethidine and morphine, but no epidural. I toy with the idea of an epidural, thinking about it during the contraction itself, and then deciding I don’t want it once the pain ends. I’m amazed at how full-on they are, and then how much better I feel when they go! I guess it’s the endorphins kicking in.
I start to become more nauseous, and begin to throw up. After the second time I call for the midwife, who gives me an injection, and asks would I like to try the gas and air? I have woken M by this stage – he’s only had another hour of sleep but I feel like I need the company. If I have to suffer, so should he, dammit! I get back into the shower and the midwife brings the nitrous. She shows me how to use it, and after two short sucks I decide I don’t want to use it. It makes me feel light-headed and the taste bothers me.
I’m starting to despair a little. I have no idea how long I’ve been doing this, but it feels like a really long time (in fact it’s about 6 am by now) and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m exhausted and I call the midwife again. She suggests an internal exam to see what’s going on, and I agree. I’m seven cm dilated! “You’re such a legend!” Jenny tells me.
She’s offered the bath before, but the warmth of the water didn’t seem to appeal to me, but now when she offers, I decide it’s probably not a bad idea. (When I see her again two days later she said she was trying to think about how she was going to get me through this, as I seemed so exhausted, and the bath seemed like the best option). I still haven’t lost my plug or had my waters break, and I just want someone to offer me something, anything which will make the pain go away. Really, I want an epidural. But I know that involves going to the hospital, and I’m also reluctant to ask for it myself. I need them to suggest it to me!
We walk across to the bathroom – M tosses a sarong around my shoulders. I’ve been naked for the last 4-5 hours and I really don’t care. The bath is huge, and I get in while M goes off to call my parents to let them know I’m in labour – they’ll travel up to Perth today so that they can meet their new grandchild, and he’s going to arrive on my mum’s birthday!
Once in the bath, the contractions seem a little more bearable. I hold onto one of the railings with my left hand, and I’ll keep hold of it for the next three hours. For some reason, it’s impossible to let it go. The contractions are closer now, and sometimes there’s hardly a break in between. Jenny tells me that I can have some pain relief if I would like, and that I’ve done so well, there’s no need to feel like I’m failing if I have any. The idea of not having pain is so welcome, but M tells her my reactions to codeine and she agrees the morphine will probably give me a similar effect. I decide I want to be present rather than feeling nauseous and removed from the situation, and decline the drugs.
There’s a shift change and Naomi, my new midwife takes over. I register that she is there, but by now I’m very focussed inward, on myself. I know M and she are in the room, but it’s if we’re on different sides of a window, or as if I’m in a bubble by myself, and they can’t quite reach me. At this point I also feel a release of pressure inside, and as if I am losing liquid – “I think my waters may have broken,” I tell them. Lots of lovely words of reassurance all round – what great support people J
Naomi begins to monitor the baby using the Doppler. Sometimes it feels annoying, but I’m also reassured that his heartbeat seems constant – I might be going through agony, but he doesn’t seem to mind any of this at all. M asks Naomi how long I’ll stay in the bath for (he doesn’t ask me, he’s given up trying to have a conversation as I’m not in a talking mood!!), and she says, “As long as she wants.” This encourages me to consider getting out, since I’m feeling a bit stiff and the water is starting to go cold. I stand up to get out, and the midwife says, “Oh, and there’s your show.” That’s the warm release of pressure I had felt before. I’m both disgusted and fascinated at the bloody mucousy plug – it’s huge! M helps me out of the water, and the midwife has set up a beanbag and mirror and torch. Out of the water, the contractions seem stronger, with a lot more pressure in my bottom. Naomi suggests an examination, and tells me I’m fully dilated. I can start pushing now.
By now the contractions are so full-on. I’m tired and thirsty. M hands me a glass of water after every contraction, as I’m groaning loudly through the pain. Once the contraction is over, I slump forward on the beanbag and doze. I think how strange it is that I can sleep in between! Naomi tells me it won’t be long now, and I ask if it will be about 10 minutes? She kind of laughs, and says, “A bit longer than that, but it will seem like 10 minutes to you.” What a diplomat!
In reality, it is almost 2 hours later, and I’m still pushing and failing to progress. I tell Naomi that I don’t want to tear. She says, it’s OK if I do, and I say, “but not a fourth degree tear!” and she tells me that’s never happened to her, and she’ll tell me when to stop pushing so I’m less likely to tear. I get a cramp in my leg, and after massaging it out, Naomi suggests that I get on the birthing stool, and I’m grateful for the change in position. However, this also makes me want to poo, and I’m very disappointed in having to do that! She’s very good though, gets rid of it straight away, and M laughs (this was something he’d teased me about ALL pregnancy!).
I hear Naomi discussing something with another midwife at the door, and I want her to come back. I don’t want her to leave me alone. She returns and tells me that we may need to take me up to the hospital to give me a bit of help. “What kind of help?” I ask, worried that she means I need a caesarean. “Probably an episiotomy and perhaps vacuum for the baby’s head … is that OK?” I nod. I’m exhausted. “Please don’t leave me, though,” I ask her. She tells me she’ll be right back, but she has to call them to let them know we’re coming up (and at this stage I’m trying to work out how I will actually move from where I am, because getting up seems inconceivable).
Naomi leaves the bathroom, and M and I are left alone. Another contraction hits me, and M begins to encourage me. “Come on, Becca, push, you don’t want to go upstairs, give it all you’ve got!” It’s what I needed – the threat of having to leave the Birth Centre and M helping me along. I feel the head start to crown. It’s really painful.
Naomi hears this and comes in with the other midwife. “Oh, looks like you’re having a baby here after all!” she laughs, and comes in to help me. She unwraps some gloves and waits for the next contraction, which is not far away. As I push down, she begins to guide the head out – he needs some help coming through as he’s got his hand on his face, up near his ear. (That’ll be the pokes and prods I’ve been feeling on my cervix for the last couple of weeks). Her fingers around the head, helping it through, is seriously the most excruciating pain I have ever felt. I scream – a really, full-on, deep-throated scream. I can see M with his head in his hands. He tells me later it’s the worst sound he has ever heard, and all he wanted to do was rush over and push the midwife away and stop the pain. “Another big push,” Naomi tells me, and I think, but I’m not having a contraction! And yet I do, I push three times, quick small pushes, and with a gush he slips out, and she catches him, and there is a baby, looking straight at me with his big dark eyes, and blinking slowly. I am so surprised. I can’t believe he actually came out of me. I gasp, “Oh my God, a baby!” I am really that amazed. Naomi gives him to me and I hold him while he looks at me and around himself, and we wait for the cord to finish pulsing. Naomi asks M is he sure he wouldn’t like to cut the cord? And to my surprise, and his, I think, he does.
As I’ve been sitting on the birth stool for over an hour now, Naomi suggests I lie back on the beanbag for delivery of the placenta. But I can’t move. I need both M and Naomi to help lift me off the stool as my body has been stuck in the same position for so long it won’t do what I want any more. I’m in a bit of a daze. I feel so tired but the endorphins have obviously kicked in, because I don’t feel like I’m in pain at all. The delivery of the placenta is vaguely uncomfortable, but it’s soon over. Naomi checks it for holes and explains what the different parts are. It’s really quite gross. Meanwhile the baby and I are relaxing on the beanbag, and I feel very warm. Naomi takes off the towel she’s covered us with so that we won’t get too cold… and I have meconium ALL over me, ewww! It’s so disgusting, but also strikes us all as quite funny – sleep deprivation, I guess!
By now it’s about an hour after he was born. We walk back to our room, well, I waddle, really. I’m very very swollen, but so incredibly happy, and I didn’t tear! Naomi helps me into bed and gives me an frozen pad for my nether regions, cleans me up a little and then does measurements etc on baby, and checks temperature. I still feel slightly removed from the room, a little dazed, and I wonder if it’s the two breaths of gas I took earlier. Later I come to recognise this feeling as just complete exhaustion (and a little anaemia)!! M dresses our newborn son, Naomi wraps him up, and he is put beside us in a little cot for us to wonder at. We’ve done it, with no drugs, and I feel amazing, empowered and elated. It has been such a beautiful environment to have a baby in, and as if to complete the experience, our fantastic midwife then asks us both, “Now. Would you like a cup of tea?”
So we sit there, and drink tea, and beam at one another. It’s already 5 weeks later that I’m finishing this birth story, and thinking about it still makes me feel great.
