Dancing With Wolves - My Birthing Story.
Now how does one describe what labour feels like to a man or a woman
who has never experienced it? I pondered this question soon after
giving birth to my second child Marika.
I had two completely opposite birthing experiences. I gave birth
to my first child Annika by elective caesarean, before labour started,
because she was a breech baby. With Marika, determined to have a different
experience, I gave birth to her naturally, with no drugs.
I believe that my natural birthing experience is the greatest accomplishment
of my life. Nothing will ever match it. It was like winning a gold
medal at the Olympics. The endorphin rush was incredible. I gave birth
four days ago and I am still coming down from the high. I now understand
how gold medallists feel. During the birth, I thought my body had
reached its limit, but then amazingly, I kept on going through the
contractions, and reached new limits again and again, going on to
win gold (my baby). I knew I had won the race when I saw my child
for the first time and she was so alive, so new to the world, taking
her first breaths, her first sensations of the world. It was pure
magic. The most magical experience I'll ever have. I could feel every
second of it lucidly.
Saying labour was a marathon is an understatement. To me, it was
like running up an icy mountain naked. The ice represents the pain.
I had no idea how high the mountain was, or how treacherous. My baby
was at the top. Initially I felt as though I was being chased by wild
wolves (the contractions), but then I realised that I could become
a wolf myself. I had to embrace the animal inside me, and go with
nature. The intellectual mind is no match for a wild wolf on a mountain.
Most of the time I walked, and rested with the wolves, other times
I ran, wrestled with them, fought with them, even howled with them.
The view as I was going up the mountain was as clear as a bright sunny
day, getting bigger and brighter as I went up. Sometimes bigger than
life itself. The view was overwhelming, and I felt like I was going
to fall off the mountain. Without drugs I felt every sensation, every
emotion and contraction. Nature was truly taking over my body with
the baby moving downwards, and I couldn't stop it.
I endured 3 days of pre-labour before established labour began. The
contractions were very painful and intense and coming anything from
2 minutes apart to hours apart. I had 3 nights of broken sleep with
lower back pain from the baby moving through the birth canal.
Initially I tried to carry on with normal life, doing the washing
up and tidying up the house in between contractions. ButÉ
As the hours wore on into the next day, I breathed through the contractions
when they came. My doula, Margie massaged me, gave me mantras to listen
to, and repeat to myself, " My body was made to do this", " I am a
birthing earth mother". I lit candles and had the lava lamp flowing,
and soft lights. Clary sage and Llang Llang oil wafted through the
air. Sometimes I danced away the contractions, rolling my hips, and
going with the spiritual music. Other times I did yoga stretches,
rolled on the body ball, did yoga nidra meditation, and sat in the
shower. My helpers, Margie, and Kate and Aaron, my husband brought
me energy giving drinks and hot packs, and wiped my face with wet
hot towels to keep me going.
That evening I was purging my emotions about the loss of the "magic
moments" with Annika, my first child, with the caesarean. I sobbed
how I couldn't remember holding her or breastfeeding her for the first
time because I was lost in the drugged haze.
Early the next morning as the contractions intensified, as baby
pushed through the birth canal, I started growling and swaying between
helpers, then growling on all fours, resting fully between each contraction.
Yes, growling, hence the wolf metaphor. Occasionally I felt the baby
kick so I was reassured that she was all right.
The phone rang at 8:30am. It was from the hospital. The midwife was
wondering why I hadn't turned up for my induction!
It took all my energy to keep calm during the car ride to the hospital.
Having had a caesarean, I had been advised by the hospital not to
labour at home. I felt like a naughty school child. Walking through
the foyer, with the general public going past, I tried to keep myself
calm.
I was examined, and my cervix was found to be 4 -5 cm dilated. I
was crushed. Three days of labouring, and 5 cm to go?! Margie explained
that I had gone through the hardest and longest part, and dilation
could proceed quickly from this point. This gave me hope.
In the shower, I laboured quietly to conserve energy, while listening
to the obstretician deliver a barrage of statistics about fetal death
rates (during my birth!) and the risks of uterine rupture when labouring
with a caesarean wound (1 in 200 - 300). He mentioned that fetal asphixia
rates are lower with caesarean than VBAC (vaginal birth after caesarean).
It was almost as if he was trying to convince me to have a caesarean
and give up on the VBAC, even though there was no fetal distress!
Then after getting out of the shower, the chief of obstetrics came
in, in a navy suit and tie. When Kate put on my gown, I suddenly realised
I was completely naked standing in front of him. He delivered the
same kind of spiel, but he used the word "disaster", meaning it could
be a disaster. You see, I was defying hospital protocol by refusing
to have a canular in my arm and refusing to be hooked up to a monitoring
machine. The midwife repeated all his spiel about how I could bleed
to death, and the baby could die with me. Then I had to read a form,
which repeated the same things and sign it. All this in between increasingly
intensifying contractions!
I retreated into the shower, seeking refuge from the monsters. I
was at a low point, fighting myself mentally. Was I going to let them
get to me? Could I do this without their intervention? Could I really
take charge of my own birth with the medical establishment bearing
down on me? I talked it over with Aaron how I felt, all the while
sorting out my feelings. I could either let the barrage get to me,
or I could build on my resources and continue my birthing journey.
I kept repeating the birthing mantras over and over in my head. "
I am powerful". " I am a great birthing earth mother". " My body was
made to do this". I tried to tap into the power of all birthing women
on the planet. I tried to visualise the baby moving downwards.
Then there was the hope of a nice big bath as the private suite was
empty. Lucky me, as I was thinking of going private just to have the
bath, but decided on public, as I didn't want an obstetrician. The
essential oils had been left at home, so I had to do without them.
Aaron fetched the "Birth Power" CD, which held my mantras.
The bath was fabulous. I relaxed straight away. The contractions
were getting stronger and extremely intense. At this point I started
screaming, holding loud sustained high notes. Aaron later said he
was impressed with my "high C" with perfect pitch. He didn't realised
I had such a good singing voice. It all got too much and I started
screaming for help. Margie grounded me every time, getting me to growl
softly. Margie encourage me to yell "Come on, baby!" So I did. Everyone
on the floor must have heard it. I did not care in the slightest.
The midwife was worried I might give birth in the bath, as it was
not allowed by protocol, so I mustered the energy to get out. It was
impossible to move during contractions. Throughout labour at the hospital,
the midwives were monitoring the baby's heartbeat to make sure it
wasn't distressed. I tried to put fetal distress at the back of my
mind. If I breathed deeply lots of oxygen, so would my baby. Thankfully
the baby was fine all the way through.
I was ready to push, but my cervix hadn't completely dilated. I risked
damage to my cervix, so I had to resist the urge to push. This was
nearly impossible. Margie and I lay face to face lying under the bed,
with Aaron behind me. I mustered every ounce of stamina I had to resist,
all the while aware of the baby trying to push out. I can't believe
I actually did it. My cervix was clear!
I tried to push in a semi reclining position with a mirror for feedback.
At this point I felt like I had reached the end of my tether and I
wanted to give up. It seemed impossible. My biggest pushes just didn't
seem to go anywhere. The midwife was talking about a time limit for
pushing. I changed to a squatting position, hanging off my helpers.
This didn't help either and I felt like I wanted out. "How about gas?
Ventouse? Why can't they just suck it out? " I was ready to retreat.
The doctor was waiting outside with the ventouse.
Had my body failed me? I clung to Margie's words. The problem with
the ventouse was the same as with cesearean. I could push the baby
out because it was mine, and I could do it. I clung to Aaron's words,
"I can almost see it! You've come this far! Don't give up now!" I
realised it was now or never. I pulled together with this encouragement
and every last energy reserve I could possibly muster, stood up, squatted
and crowned and delivered the entire baby in one gargantuan push.
The sense of release was incredible. I was stunned and my mood skyrocketed.
It was the biggest rush I have ever experienced. Baby was crying her
lungs out from the moment she slithered out. Aaron shed some tears.
I had never seen him cry before. I took baby in my arms and was overwhelmed
by nature's miracle, the pure magic of it all. She was the most beautiful
thing I have ever laid eyes on. I talked softly to her, " OhhhÉIt
was hard for you too wasn't it!? Oh look at you!" Aaron cut the cord,
and she suckled strongly on my breasts for about an hour. It was amazing!
So there I was, at the top of the highest mountain in the world,
with my baby, with the most incredible view. In other words, an incredible
awareness of the capabilities and power of the female body. I felt
like a queen of the Amazon, part of the mighty tribe of women around
the world who take charge of their births.
My recovery I liken to the trip down the mountain. It was as if
I became a bird, and flew with my baby down the mountain. Compared
to the caesarean, recovery was easy. After breastfeeding my baby,
I got up and walked to the bathroom and showered myself. I miraculously
had no tears. From the very first day in hospital I was showering,
changing linen, changing nappies, and getting myself cups of tea and
snacks. I even walked downstairs, and went to the physiotherapy session
less than 24 hours after the birth. It felt great.
As for the caesarean, I guess it was like I was at the bottom of
that icy mountain too. I didn't see the wolves (contractions). I was
naked, stranded, and the obstetrician offered me a lift to the top
where my baby was in his high tech helicopter. I got in, but the ride
was very turbulent (I was knocked about by the surgery) and foggy
all the way (from the drugs). When we got to the top, the fog was
so thick I only just caught a glimpse of my baby's face. This is how
I felt, as I have no recollection of holding or feeding her for the
first time. I only remember when they showed me her for a few seconds
after she was cut out, then we posed for photos when she was wrapped
up tightly. I remember being whisked to the recovery room, without
baby or husband, with a stranger looking after me, separated from
the baby for what seemed like an eternity.
With the caesarean, it was like the obstetrician left me at the
top of the mountain in the fog, with the baby. I had to climb down
the mountain by myself, being carried by helpers (nurses, family,
friends) through the dense fog and blizzards. I was incapacitated
for days in hospital with my drips, epidural, drugs and catheter.
I had a lot of problems breastfeeding, and spent a lot of the time
being anxious, and somewhat depressed. I wasn't allowed to drive a
car for 6 weeks so I was dependent on people around me, living in
a city (Perth) where I had no family. People were very supportive
however, and got me through it.
The contrast between my two birth experiences and the aftermath is
stark. Here I am writing this, just 4 days after giving birth. My
breasts were engorged by the 4th night after giving birth, there was
so much milk. Marika is feeding extremely well. She is so settled,
half the time I have to wake her up for feeds. She sleeps almost all
the time, and we haven't had any settling problems at all.
My husband Aaron was extremely supportive throughout the birth despite
his worry that something would go wrong. Also, special thanks to my
doula, Margerite Perkins, and doula in training, Kate Eccles-Smith.
Without them all, I think I would have taken that helicopter ride
againÉÉ
Erica Oakley
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