The Birth of Brody.By Jackie Mawson. I started preparing for the birth weeks beforehand. It was such a big event in my life that I couldn't help myself. I'd had two caesareans previously, and this time I wanted to give birth naturally within my own home - in my own chosen environment with candles and gentle music, quiet people and the strength of my husband, Chris, beside me. Chris and I set up the birth pool a week before I was due, and then spent the next two weeks looking at it and shuffling around it. For a week before the birth I had pre-labour pains. Sometimes they would last all night only to fade with the morning light, once they lasted a full 24 hours before disappearing. I started to get a bit tired of false alarms. Then the day arrived that my labour decided to really start. Hurray! This, my third pregnancy, had been one of the most physically wonderful pregnancy's I'd experienced, but it was the most emotionally draining. I had a lot of stuff to work through from my previous births, and a lot of opposition to overcome (to my right to birth naturally), I also felt that I'd lost the support of people very important to me a few times, and I needed all the support I could get. Anyway, it was finally going to end. Josie VanDjke (my midwife) came for a routine visit at 11 a.m. and noted that I was having mild contractions (again!). We discussed the old castor oil cure, and at midday I decided to take two tablespoons as I was one week overdue. This is something I will never recommend to anyone - I don't know if it speeded up anything, except my bowel for the next 12 hours or so... My contractions did pick up though, and I spent some time watching my budgies, later my Mum came and picked up my other two boys. I phoned Josie about 4 p.m. and told her things were happening, she came and checked me. Everything was okay, so she told me to ring her later, as soon as I felt I needed her there. Chris and I were so used to the pre-labour contractions that I'd been having that we just went on with whatever we felt like doing, and ignored them until they got stronger. At 8 p.m. I got Chris to call Josie, as suddenly the contractions were about three minutes apart and much stronger. I enjoyed leaning on the kitchen table, with my knees bent and breathing through the contractions. This was to be my "position" for the rest of my labour. It was unbearable to sit, lie, crouch, squat of do anything except stand, with knees slightly bent, leaning forward a bit during each one, with Chris rubbing my lower back...Wonderful. Josie arrived at 9 p.m. and checked my dilation. I was fully effaced and about 1 - 2 c.m.'s dilated, and contractions were coming every 2 - 3 minutes and lasting about 50 seconds. At 10 p.m. Josie suggested hot nappies on my lower back, and even though they felt wonderful, I craved Chris's touch and that is what I really wanted... to feel him massaging my lower back, no-one else could do it quite as good as he could. My candles were burning and my gentle music was playing. I had a labour oil in my oil burner and plastic and old sheets all over my bedroom floor. I'd found the perfect "position" leaning against my chest of drawers (which are quite high) and I was enjoying myself - believe it or not! I was birthing my baby my way, with no interference and everything was perfect. When Josie had checked my dilation I asked her if she'd actually felt my baby's head. She said "yes", and I think I gave her a bit of a giggle when I said "So there's really a baby up there?" It was just still so unreal that my baby was going to be born vaginally as opposed to being lifted out of my body forcefully, that I found it amazing to think of touching it's head via my vagina. Josie seemed to understand this, and she offered me the chance to feel my baby's head myself. I was a bit overwhelmed by the idea, and refused saying "Maybe later." I'll always regret that decision, as later never came and I lost my chance of touching my baby in that special way. At midnight Josie decided we could fill up the birthing pool. At last I'd get to use it, and it felt wonderful. But I only stayed in for about half an hour before getting out to use my favourite "position" and feel Chris's touch again. At 1 a.m. I was still contracting every 2 - 3 minutes and I was about 4 c.m's dilated. Suddenly I felt so very tired, and Chris and I lay down to try to rest. I slept between contractions (which seemed further apart - I don't know if they were) waking with each one and suffering them in the Iying down position because I felt I needed to rest. I got up about 2 a.m. and felt really revived from the lie down. I continued to get into and out of the pool, listen to my music, have my back massaged, etc, through the night. At 5 a.m. I was 6 - 7 c.m's dilated with bulging membranes, we were getting there. I listened to my budgies waking up, my baby would be born this day. From 6 a.m. onwards my contractions were strong, but irregular. A vaginal examination at 9 a.m. showed me to be about 8 c.m's dilated. I decided to have a hot shower, which was absolutely wonderful. When I walked out into the lounge room afterwards something had changed. Everyone looked very serious, and I asked what the problem was. Josie said Margaret (my local doctor) had just rang, and was worried about me, she wanted me to go into KEMH (King Edward Memorial Hospital for Women) as my labour was taking so long. My whole world tipped. Chris and I looked at each other, then I asked Josie what she thought. She wasn't sure, therefore I suggested more frequent examinations, and if dilation was still slow in two hours then we'd go. Josie agreed, as long as she listened to the baby's heartbeat every 15 minutes. When Josie checked the baby's heartbeat after my next contraction it was very low. We weren't taking any risks with our baby, it was time to go to KEMH. I cried on Chris's shoulder, looked around my "nest", then got my bag organised. When we arrived, there was no parking, so Chris dropped me outside. I wasn't going inside alone, so I stood outside near the gift shop window, and leaned against it and moaned through a few contractions while I waited. You'd think someone would ask a heavily pregnant woman, in a pink fluffy dressing gown, leaning against a window, moaning, outside a maternity hospital, if she was okay? But everyone went on with their business, and I got on with mine. Josie found a parking spot first, and she took my hand and we entered KEMH together. I had to ask her to stop and wait for Chris, because I thought he might lose us, luckily he arrived just after her, and we hurried on to the delivery suites. The nurses seemed to know Josie, and they ushered us into a suite... A small, square room with grey lino', steel trolleys and a narrow bed with white linen. I was attached to a beeping monitor and in bustled the doctor. "Been battling all night, have we?" were his first words. "No" I said "I've been enjoying my labour". I think he now understood where I was coming from. He checked my dilation, and announced that I was 7 c.m's and that the baby was posterior - that's why I'd been enjoying my back massages! Dr. Dickinson (the obstetrician) then arrived, and gave me an ultimatum. Either a caesarean now, or they'd break my waters, give me two hours to fully dilate and, if I didn't, then I'd have a caesarean. We chose the latter option. They put in a drip, broke my waters and left. It was just Josie, Chris, a hospital midwife and me. I started some serious nipple stimulation, and two hours down the track I could feel my baby pushing down on my rectum. Josie was ecstatic about the noises I was making (deep, guttural moans with my outward breaths) and encouraging me by gently chanting "out baby" during each contraction. I thought we were there, everything felt so close. The doctors trooped back in and checked me, and announced that I was 10 c.m's dilated but with an anterior lip, therefore we were to get ready for a caesarean. My world not only tipped, it crumbled and so did I. Josie asked if they could try to push the lip over the baby's head, but they refused. Suddenly everything overwhelmed me. I was crying, and I lost control over my contractions. I felt nauseous and Josie found me a bowl to be sick in. Midwives started taping my rings and removing my jewellery, the doctor gave me "a little something to stop the nausea" into my drip-line (I still don't know what that drug was) the anaesthetist arrived, the doctor was talking at me about the pro's and con's of surgery and then he gave me a form to sign. Then the anaesthetist explained the pro's and con's of the epidural before they got that set up - all this during powerful contractions when I wasn't really with it. Most of the time they were talking to me I had my eyes shut, and it was impossible to open them and concentrate on what they were saying. To have the epidural inserted I had to sit on the edge of the bed, and curl up over a pillow. I wasn't to move even if I was having a contraction. Someone got hold of the back of my head and pushed it down to make sure I stayed still - Agony! The contractions were on top of each other, and the room was chaotic, and I'd lost the ability to stay on top of them. My baby wanted out, and I couldn't even get into my favourite "position" anymore. The epidural took effect, and I lay flat on my back on the bed. My active labour had ended, as had my dream, and my confusion and despair had begun. Why was I having a caesarean, I still had no idea, no-one seemed to think I had any need to know the reason. I had been given an ultimatum, I'd tried to beat their odds, and I'd lost. I guess that was why. Now that the epidural was working, the doctor had disappeared to another birth. So it was one and a half hours later before I finally entered surgery to have my baby removed from me. Why all the chaos earlier? Plenty of time now to tape up my rings... I can't understand that either. My son was born at 2:40 p.m. weighing 3540 g.m's. His little head was moulded from trying to be born our way (no perfect round head for this baby). Everyone in theatre commented on his long feet and his big eyes. They even let me keep him with me in the theatre and recovery. A kind of compromise? I had stated in my birth plan that I would like this to happen, but had always had a very negative response to my suggestion previous to the actual caesarean. My dream was shattered. Josie tells me I did everything but actually give birth. I still think I could even have managed that if people had given me a little more time and support. I guess I'll never know. I'd like to thank Josie, and the Fremantle Community Midwives, for their care and help during my pregnancy, and for supplying me with the stuff that dreams are made of, giving me hope. Without them I would have just faced another caesarean from the beginning. At least I experienced labour, I felt the power of being a woman for a little while ... Thank you from my heart. I feel a deep need to help other women try to achieve their ideal birth experiences, whether they are VBAC's (Vaginal Birth After Caesarean) or just need a little help and emotional support. I will work on how I can best achieve this, and maybe by helping other women I may help to heal myself a little. The most wonderful part of my labour was the time I spent at home. I'll always be able to look back on those hours with bitter sweet joy, remembering the candles, the music, the old sheets on the floor, and the strength and support of my husband and support people. You can't change something bad that's happened, I guess you just have to work your way through it and maybe one day you can accept that everything has a reason for being.
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