At 5 am on March 4, I woke up for the 100th time that night and went to the bathroom. I waddled back to bed and, within a few seconds, noticed something wasn't quite right...either I was incontinent or my waters were breaking. I was hoping for the latter for the sake of my pride :) Since my waters have never broken on their own before and I have always been dilated to ten, I found it all a little suspicious. I do know, from my many hours of watching shows like A Baby Story, that delivery should happen within 24 hours of waters breaking so I decided to mosey my big self downstairs and call the midwife.
At this point, I wasn't having contractions (530 am) so was advised to come in at 9 am so they could check my waters and monitor baby. Not long after I put the phone down, mild contractions began. They didn't feel good but they were manageable. Stephen and I left the house at around 815. We took Esme to school, informed them that baby was likely on its way and Gram and Granddad would be picking up and hurried off to the birthing centre.
And here begins one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I had HUGE worries about going from the overly clinical and hospitalized US system (which is all I knew) to the midwife lead system in the UK. My worries were silly and the rest of the blog should spell out why.
I was welcomed with smiles by a midwife named Denise. We were put in our private birthing room (you wouldn't believe the size of this room!) and, after a small wait, I was put on a monitor and brought tea and toast. It was lovely. The monitor slipped and I had to be monitored for a bit longer. I don't know how to explain the mood of the birthing unit but to say that no one was in a hurry. No one was offering me pitocin to speed my labor, no one was urging me to do anything. Everything was completely relaxed. Denise checked the monitoring and said baby was completely happy and healthy. She then did an internal examination and informed me that my waters were still in tact (hello, incontinence!) and that I was approximately 3 cm dilated. YAY...or so I thought. Because this was my third baby, three centimeters didn't mean much and baby was still sitting pretty high. I was offered some pain meds, which I declined, and was told that I could either go home or wait it out. I opted to go home.
I had decided, long before the contractions kicked in, that this would be my first natural and unassisted child birth. I am not going to claim that my first two births were unpleasant but, after reading about natural lifestyles as of late, I was convinced that I wanted a more human experience this time. No needles, no drugs- just me, my body and a giant vat of water to relax in.
By the time we got home it was noon and the contractions were really starting to kick in. I got into my bathtub, hoping to experience the miracle pain relief of hot water only to be sorely disappointed. I am not convinced it helped at all. But I like a nice bath. So I sat there, with my Mama, complaining about the pain and expressing disbelief that humans weren't extinct by now. Surely choosing this pain for the third time qualified me as clinically insane?
At about 2 pm I decided the contractions were close enough (3 mins) and strong enough to justify a return to the birthing center. After all, Noah was born three minutes after I dilated to 10 and my waters broke and I didn't want to be one of those ladies on the news who gives birth in her car on the way to the hospital. Stephen's parents were in the process of picking up car seats and Noah in order to collect Esme from school and as soon as they left my mom, Stephen and I were off to the birthing center.
They were surprised to see me so soon. Without question, we were brought to our birthing suite and offered tea, biscuits (cookies) and toast. By the time they examined me it was 3 pm and I had been having painful contractions for a few hours. I was expecting to be about 7 cm. I was horrified when they told me I was only 4 cm- a one cm improvement from the morning- and my resolve for a natural pregnancy started to waiver. The coming contractions were earth shattering and am a self proclaimed wuss. Somehow I managed to say no to all of the drugs and even the gas and air. Denise told me she wouldn't offer me anything else and I nodded my approval.
Each contraction shook me to my core. I tried to sit on the big bouncy ball but each bounce seemed to encourage another contraction. All I wanted to do was sleep and I made this very clear. Denise told me to walk around and I told her I wanted a nap. I knew each movement I made would trigger another earth moving contraction and I wanted to stay as still as possible. My mom kept reminding me that Denise wanted me to walk around but I kept whining about a nap and the improbability of the perpetuation of the human race.
They had started filling my birthing pool when I came in. Those things are enormous and use more water than any environmentally friendly person should feel comfortable using...but I didn't care. I wanted warm water and I wanted it NOW. Denise was reluctant to get me in because she was afraid it could slow my progress. By this time I told them that I was a failure and that I needed drugs immediately. They ignored me (in a caring, we respect your wish for a natural birth and your angry yells mean nothing kind of way). I was finally allowed into the pool at about 4pm. My waters broke shortly after and the contractions got even more intense. They encouraged me to start pushing when I felt the need. I felt the need but I was petrified. I lived for short time between contractions when nothing hurt- it was nirvana. But each few seconds of nirvana meant the next contraction would hurt worse than the last. I was afraid to push- I was lucid and completely aware of my body- something I had never experienced before and I knew pushing wouldn't be as easy as it had been my previous births. This was going to hurt.
I gave a few half hearted pushes and remember asking if they could see her head. They said not yet and I was disappointed. Surely that couldn't be right? I didn't try very hard the next two contraction. But soon I couldn't fight it anymore. I finally bucked up and pushed the baby out at 4:31. That's right, folks. 4-10 in an hour and a half. Not too shabby for a self confessed pansy.
I pulled that little baby up onto my chest and felt the biggest rush of relief and love. It didn't even occur to me check the gender. It was a baby! It was my little baby! At first glance, the umbilical cord tricked me into thinking it was a boy but, on closer inspection, it was clear that we had a bouncing baby girl. I just sat in the pool, holding my baby and nobody intervened. Nobody swept her away to be bathed or weighed or prodded. The midwives (of which there were now two- more on that to come) just let me sit there and soak it all in. It was divine. And so unlike my past births.
After a good long cuddle, I got out of the tub and delivered my placenta. My mom and Stephen were with the baby. I felt so alive, so present. It is hard to explain. After my last two births I had a cuddle and fell asleep. This time, despite wanting to sleep through my labor, I was wide awake and felt completely normal. I didn't feel like I had just given birth- I felt like I could walk out of the center then and there if I needed to.
So now for the funny part. As you can see from the above photo, I was wearing a pink/fleshy colored genie bra in the birthing pool. When the baby was born and brought to my chest, her little foot slipped into my bra. It didn't phase me and I didn't remove it. Stephen, who was sitting at the bottom of the pool, could only see that she had one leg. He tried to nonchalantly ask if they were going to count her fingers and toes (he didn't want to distress me) but they waved it off and told him they would do that shortly. So the whole time, Stephen is sitting there worried that she only has one leg and, because the atmosphere was so relaxed, his concerns were brushed aside. It might not be hilarious but that story cracks me up.
Being a midwife must be a very rewarding job. My original midwife, Denise, had seen to me the entire day. It must be quite disappointing to spend a day laboring with a woman and then get off work minutes before she delivers. She was so keen to be a part of the birth that she decided to stay. She signed over to Helen, whom I had met on a few of my antenatal visits, but she wanted to be present for the birth. It was nice to have two familiar faces at the birth. She kept saying she had to leave to go to her daughter's gymnastics class- it was funny. She stayed for the birth, congratulated me and rushed off. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
So there it. My birthing story, otherwise known as my faith in the NHS being restored. The best part? Not a drip, not a needle, nothing. The differences are staggering. When you walk through the door of a hospital in the USA you are immediately hooked up to drips and machines and all sorts. WHY?! There is really no need for it (in most cases). It was such an amazing experience and I recommend it highly! There is no better way to make yourself feel like an instant tough guy, either!
Baby girl Bailey, born at 431 PM weighing 9 pounds 0.5 ounces. My biggest baby yet and done all naturally!
She is a spitting image of her sister. She has reddish hair. She had some burst blood vessels in her eye from descending so rapidly. The midwives said when babies are down for a while they have time to adjust to the pressure change but she obviously came so quickly that she didn't have time to adjust.
It is amazing how quickly you forget the pain of child birth. Another amazing trick of the body. There is nothing quite like giving birth and nursing a baby to remind you how amazing our bodies are. You can create a human and keep it alive with your body with no help whatsoever. It is amazing. I am lucky and blessed to be a Mama x 3 :)
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