I wasn’t sure if my waters had broken on Saturday morning. I could just feel a slight trickle. I went about my day as usual, but continued to question myself all day & being hesitant to contact my midwife in case it was nothing. However, by 7pm that evening, I was well convinced that it was go time. My usual night time braxton hicks became regular & constant. I contacted my midwife & got into bed, hoping to get a couple hours of rest before things kicked off.
However, I could not rest. My contractions intensified quickly & became frequent. By 4am my husband rang my midwife asking her to come over. My beautiful midwife arrived & I hopped into the birthing pool. My contractions felt long & strong but I kept saying “it’s not so bad, I thought it would be worse” as well as thinking, “I’m going to see my baby soon”. The joke was on me!
Thirteen hours in I started to get frustrated - where was my baby? I’ve been at this for a while, it hurts like hell & I’m seeing no real changes. My midwife performed a VE, but I didn’t want to know my dilation. So when she learnt that I was only 4cm, she tucked us up into bed. I managed to get some rest until the contractions turned up another notch. The contractions had slowed down, averaging 5 minutes apart, but the intensity of them increased significantly. I began pacing up & down the stairs, determined to hurry things along.
Sixteen hours in I entered de lu lu land. I became so paranoid thinking that uninvited guests were in my home & convinced that the midwives were planning to take me to the hospital - both of which were not true. The midwives reassured me constantly that everything that was happening was normal & there was no indication for me to go to hospital. I said “Good! Because I know this is bad, but it’ll be so much worse there”.
So, on we went. Another eight hours went by. I cried, I screamed, I thought ‘this is so much harder than I thought it would be’ (what a turn), but at no point did I think something was ever wrong or that my baby wasn’t safe.
Twenty two hours in, my midwife performed another VE. This time I was 8cm & I begged her to help. So with a little manipulative assistance & a big voluntary push, I pushed my baby's head through the remaining cervix.
Now it’s on. I laughed at the time as I got out of the pool & said “Prep the lounge. I’ve organised a home birth & I’m about to give birth on my back”. I can’t explain it but I just knew where & how I needed to be to deliver my baby & that was the old fashioned way. On the lounge, on my back, legs in stirrups (birthing partners muscles) & a mirror held up. My midwife coached me for the next two hours as I pushed out my baby.
Mary was born on the 13th October with the biggest cheeks you’ve ever seen. Healthy & happy with an APGAR of 9 & a big loud cry. I birthed the placenta almost straight away with ease & had minimal blood loss. I had a couple of grazes & a grade one tear requiring a tad of glue. In our love bubble I felt so overwhelmed. I was exhausted, I had some after pains & I was starving! After getting sorted, the three of us were tucked up in bed at midnight & drifted off. The midwives left after being at my home on a Sunday for 20 hours!
The next day my husband kept telling me how proud he was of me during labour & birth. But I just felt that statement wasn’t right. I told him that I was proud of myself too but not because of the labour or the birth but because of the choices I had made prior to that day. I chose to home birth, I chose my private midwife & I chose to trust my gut. Because of this I achieved a positive physiological birth & that is what I’m proud of.