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September 15, 2003

Jane's Birth Story

As my due date approached I hoped desperately that my baby would be late. It not only coincided with my son's second birthday but with the day my partner Peter had to sit a three-hour exam. So when I woke with no sign of anything happening, I was greatly relieved, and took my son to the London Transport Museum for his birthday treat.

The very next afternoon - Friday - I had a show and phoned my midwife Elke in a state of some excitement. She told me to call back if anything else started to happen. Shortly afterwards mild contractions began. I recognized these from my previous birth as 'pre-labour' contractions. Last time I had a 'trial of labour' with a breech baby: 24 hours of these 'pre-contractions' followed by 15 hours of 'proper' labour and finally a caesarian section. Surely this time it would all be much easier?

By 4am on Saturday morning the contractions were stronger and five minutes apart so I called Elke again. She offered to come round but we agreed nothing dramatic was happening and we'd both be better off getting some more sleep. I slept very little that night - the contractions were just strong enough to stop me drifting off, and I was getting very excited.

I spoke to Elke again at 8am and she suggested we take our son Isaac off to his nanny's house while the baby was born. I put my TENS machine on low - the contractions were beginning to pinch a bit - and Peter and I settled down to a happy day of child-free pottering as the contractions continued - I sorted out the plants on our terrace, we went for a walk and had a very civilized lunch out. On Elke's orders I had a long rest in the afternoon.

By Saturday evening I was feeling pretty tired. We watched a bit of the Queen's Jubilee concert on TV and then I went to bed, desperate for some sleep. By 11pm the contractions were noticeably stronger and at 1am I woke Peter who had been banished to the spare room. We called Elke again. She arrived about half an hour later. I was so cheered to see her and we all had some tea and toast while she soothed me through my contractions. By 3am the baby seemed to be descending and Elke called Jacqui, our other midwife. Elke suggested I get into our enormous bath. I was reluctant to take of my TENS machine, but the water felt wonderful. Jacqui arrived at about 4am and Elke took my photo in the bath. When the contractions started to slow down a bit I got out of the bath in the hope of speeding things up. Sunday dawned with more tea and toast, stair walking (our house has four floors), watering the terrace and Elke listing the plants she would buy from Columbia Road market later in the day. (This gave me great hope as the market closes at 2pm!)

By 7am we're back in the bedroom and my contractions are strong again but I'm finding it hard to find comfortable positions. At 8am Elke offers me an internal examination to see what's happening. I'm keen to know but nervous in case I'm only 3cms dilated after all this time. To my delight we find I'm 6cms and my cervix is almost completely effaced.

My contractions continue all morning, with Peter making trips to nearby Spitalfileds markets for juice and croissants to keep us all going. I begin to despair that the baby will ever be born. Elke and Jacqui are marvellously confident and reassuring and Peter is a constant source of comfort as well as food and drink.

By 11am it seems the baby is finally descending, and Elke and Jacqui can see a bulge in my lower back. I can feel pressure in my bottom and dare to hope things are speeding up.

But by 2pm nothing dramatic has happened, despite continued strong contractions. I'm beginning to pity our neighbours with all the noise I'm making. Elke does another examination and finds I'm 7-8 cms but that the baby's head isn't presenting at the best angle. I begin to think I'm stuck and I'll end up with another caesarian, but as ever, Elke and Jacqui are cheerfully resolute and have an idea...

...So I spend the next hour or so on my hands and knees with my bottom in the air. We hope this will slightly disengage the baby from my pelvis. I listen to a concert on the radio while Peter dozes next to me and Elke and Jacqui take it in turns to sleep on the spare bed. When I get up I'm encouraged to swivel my hips and do some squats to get the baby re-engaged in a better position.

By now I'm exhausted and the pain starts to become unbearable. I feel a trip to the Royal London Hospital is now inevitable, but Elke, Jacqui and Peter remain incredibly cool. Peter has a long chat with Jacqui and reassures me there is nothing to worry about, as the baby's heart rate is as good as ever as there's no reason why I shouldn't have a natural birth.

At 5pm the pain is so bad I get back in the bath. Elke lights some candles

and draws the curtains. The room feels very cosy and safe. The relief of the water is wonderful, but again my contractions slow down. When they eventually pick up again, I'm sounding like a cow and Elke gets the entonox from her car. I quite like it, but find the mouthpiece gets in the way of my screaming...

At 7.30pm Elke examines me again and finds the baby is descending well and my cervix is very thin. She suggests breaking my waters so I get out of the bath, and Elke gets out her crochet hook. It's surprisingly painless and it's good to see there's no merconium in the waters.

At 8pm Peter is forcing me to eat bananas (which I hate) to keep up my strength and Jacqui gets out the rescue remedy. I'm bearing down now and filling the bath with a delightful mixture of blood, mucus and poo, which Elke elegantly scoops out with a plastic sieve. I notice Peter leaning over the end of the bath, breathing the entonox and saying he feels quite relaxed.

As the baby starts to move down the pain is unbearable. I start to despair, but Elke encourages me to feel for the baby's head. I touch something hard and slimy and my spirits lift.

At 10pm I get out of the bath. Peter sits on a chair and supports me in a squat. Elke sits cross legged on the floor with her torch and mirror and tells me she can see the head with lots of dark hair. Eventually I see the head too in the mirror and know that, finally, it's nearly over. I had dreaded the crowning, but the stinging pain is a welcome contrast to the pain of the second stage contractions.

Elke and Jacqui are so calm and encouraging. Elke applies warm compresses to my perineum and makes sure I blow and don't push as the head becomes more visible with each contraction. 'You're stretching really well' says Jacqui as she takes photos! I'm staring hard at Elke, concentrating, desperately trying to blow and not push, fighting my desire to get the baby out as fast as possible.

Finally at 10.30pm the baby's head emerges - crying - and the body slides out almost immediately. And the pain is all gone. I discover I have a little girl, and Elke and Jacqui lie me down on my back. The baby starts to suckle straight away. Peter cuts the cord after about half an hour I sit on the loo to expel the placenta into a bin bag.

Peter makes marmite toast and tea for everyone while I have a (clean) bath with the baby and Elke and Jacqui tidy up. We all have a good look at the placenta before Elke wraps it up and puts it in our freezer (we plan to bury it under a tree in my Dad's garden).

Our exhausted midwives leave us at 1am all tucked up in bed together. I'm ecstatically happy - I have a beautiful healthy baby, I've had the wonderful home birth I so wanted, and as an extra bonus I have no tears or stitches. In fact the sorest part of my body is my throat from all the screaming. 'I'd do it all again' I say to Peter. 'Oh my god' he replies.

My labour was long, and I'm quite sure that had I been in hospital I would have ended up with another 'failure to progress' caesarian. But Elke and Jacqui's expertise, reassurance, and above all, confidence in my ability to give birth, saw us through. Throughout my labour I felt safe, and in control, and never felt like a patient. I feel admiration for my midwives and gratitude to them that is hard to express, and felt very sad saying goodbye to two good friends at the end of my post natal visits.