Finn’s birth did not go in accordance to how I had imagined or hoped for, yet I am so very grateful for the journey. My pregnancy with Finn was wonderful, I was very much in contact with him being within me and would find myself walking along the street talking to him out loud, lost in our own little bubble. I adored being in this state. I did a little home yoga, loads of walks in the bush, swimming in the ocean and read what I needed to read, for all the other stuff did not matter. For ‘those’ things were not going to happen to me. My only hiccup was that I did have continual all day ‘morning sickness’ which lasted for the 9 months. I did not have any feelings of being overwhelmed or frightened, maybe a little worried at the unknown, but life was generally pretty good.
We had chosen to birth in a birthing unit in Midland WA, and sadly that unit was closed when I was about 6 months pregnant, so I opted for a shared care set up with a local GP and another birthing unit in Subiaco. This was probably the most confusing thing for me at the time, jumping from here to there and feeling a little lost, unconnected and not really having a huge understanding of the shared care set up. I had asked my beautiful soul sister, Cathy, to come over from Perth to share and support both Skul and I for Finn’s birth. And both our families were coming also. We both were very happy and relaxed to share the ‘love’ with our families.
Eventually, I was booked into the Subiaco birthing unit, an hour and a half away from our home in the hills of Perth. With the protocol that I was welcome there if I birthed either side of 2 weeks from the ‘due date’. Of course my pregnancy had extended the 2 week limit making me ‘overdue’. I found the build up to this extremely emotional and stressful, attempting all means to induce myself, some pleasurable and many not, but nothing was going to make this little one ready for birth except themselves. And without question the process of induction held a huge fear for me, particularly in relation to my baby not choosing their journey. I had a huge mistrust in the medical community and was very uncomfortable entering their realm. All up I was healthy, pretty fit and the only huge discomfort was the stretching skin across my belly as this little being grew within me. I have some great photos of this, my belly looks like an orange.
Leading up to being induced I had further ultrasounds to make certain there was enough amniotic fluid present for my little one and traces to make sure their heart was beating, sadly this occurred on Cathy’s last day in W.A. for she needed to return to her family. This was highly emotional for us all. The night before I was booked in for induction, I was convinced that I was having a show, and maybe I was, a ‘tiny little one’. I rang the birthing unit, they were aware of my anxiety about being induced and told me to come in, so we did, packed our gear and off Skul and I headed, for a long couple of days. That evening we stayed in the birthing unit where I received many vaginal examinations all through the night from midwives I did not know, and this really did give me the feeling of being out of my comfort zone, of which I was already feeling. A sense of being lost and willing for people to lead the way, I felt extremely overwhelmed and did not want to make too much of a bother. By the next morning I still had not entered labour, so I was transferred to the birthing ward. With my own legs I walked in feeling like I had just condemned myself to death by going into the hospital. Here I was placed in a room with another woman, our toes facing each other with a piece of saffron yellow cloth separating us and the process of induction began.
Finally after a good few hours of waiting, taking us into the late morning, I was given the prostaglandin gel, inserted vaginally. We had to wait for around 8 hours to see what effect this had taken, and to appease boredom we wandered up and down Rokeby Road, eating and filming with our Super 8 camera and after many hours we returned and waited for someone to see us again. A few more vaginal examinations from midwives on shift (who showed little care and caused great discomfort), I was up for round 2 of prostaglandin gel, this was around dinner time. At this point I began to encounter small tightenings (and I began to get a little excited rather than feeling overwhelmed), but nothing to inhibiting. We tried for a few park walks, by this stage we were both feeling a little tired, out of our comfort zones and we really needed to rest. There was a bit of a kerfuffle regarding where Skul would stay this night, as they do not allow partners to stay in the hospital, Skul said he was going to stay and the chair would be fine, or he would crawl up next to me on the bed. I thank him for his certainty, as I was under a spell and had no voice. Eventually a caring kind wonderful midwife produced a fold out bed for him to lay next to me, so he too could get a little rest in this mad waiting game.
During the night I began to get increased tightenings which were becoming a little more intense, enough that I started to reach for my homoeopathics. I remember the woman who I was toe to toe with, really started labouring and I became so upset that I had not reached this point. She was shifted out and another woman shifted in. And throughout the night I could hear women labouring and became quite disturbed and frightened by the noises, they were unknown to me; I had not heard them before.
By the next morning I was feeling rather emotionally worn and a little overtired, yet I still had more vaginal examinations to take and another insertion of gel. This insertion did start to take effect with more force, and focus, but apparently I still was not anywhere near full dilation. So it was decided as the day went on that I would be hooked up to the syntocinon drip. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Full induction.
Around 4pm that afternoon I was transferred again to the labouring ward and required the use of a food trolley as my support to get me to the room which was 10 metres away, as the contractions really upped, or so I thought!!!!!! Once in there I am placed on the bed, on my back, the needles are in and I am strapped to a pole on wheels. Bang, it was on. I was now on a journey, where there was no control and no rest and I had no idea what was going on. My body felt like it was fighting this internal battle and my stomach felt like a rock all the time. I was vomiting all over the place, I could not manage to get off my back, let alone finding the ability, the space, of the knowing at this point, that I would like to get off my back.
At this point another midwife entered and was down between my legs asking me to tell her when I was contracting, as they were in the process of breaking the waters. I had no idea when I was contracting and when I wasn’t. I remember she became very firm with me and this unbalanced me a little because I really wanted her to help me somehow, I was treading water and felt that I could not keep on top of the surface for too much longer. The waters broke and whoosh I was in another intense land of not knowing if I was coming or going. What the hell was going on? Yet it was here that my birth plan took over. I had written a rather detailed one, bordering on the anal side of things. And in it I had stipulated that I did not want an epidural, even if I begged for it, which I did. This midwife, Carol Wolf, read my birthing plan with such wonderful diligence and respect.
I was so frightened by this stage that all of my reasoning about the rights and wrongs had disappeared, I had no contact with my baby. I was completely in my head and out of my body. I demanded an epidural at this stage and boy was I going to have one to get me out of this mess I was in. This glorious midwife has gently yet firmly grabbed me by the head and asked me if I knew what an epidural was and of course I did not know, for this was one of ‘those things’ I ignored and did not read about, for it was not going to happen to me. And in her best way she tried to reach me but I was not going to be reached, I insisted that I would have an epidural. During this time however, this glorious midwife went into bat for me to get the only portable fetal heart rate monitoring belt available in the hospital, which could enter water. In the meantime I was struggling immensely with the insanity of what was occurring to me, my midwife had gotten me off the bed and up on two feet, got me into the shower and sitting on a gym ball. This action alone was already doing me a world of good, not being on my back and having water on my body, the gentle yet firm support of the ball on my vagina and anus. She sat in the shower with us, soothing me, explaining to me what an epidural was and sharing other options I could chose, at this moment as the anaesthetist came into the room, all ready to go. One of those options was to have a shot of pethidine, at which I was worried about for my baby and their reflexes, but she assured me this would be okay. I asked the anaesthetist to leave. And it was at this point I started to feel that I could somehow contribute to this journey and empower myself. But it would not have happened without this glorious woman, supporting me with her gentle firmness.
Finally I got into the hospital bath, after a shot of pethidine and I laboured in this water so well. My man by my side as he always is, I could now tell when I was having a contraction and rose in the water with them and I started to go deep within myself and find my baby. I can happily say that I honestly enjoyed this part and felt I had found my comfort zone. I loved this feeling and felt so connected to this little being sharing this intimate and intense internal struggle with me. My midwife (this time I was claiming her as ‘mine’) would pop in occasionally and ask questions like “do you feel ready to push yet” and although I did not know if you could not birth in the bath, but I could feel that her questions had a little bit more on the end of them, so I would lie and tell her no. I think by about the 3rd time she could not ignore my deep internal noises anymore and once again I had to shift, from the only comfort zone I had found to another space, back to the labouring room.
In here, my midwife had set up a nest of floor cushions for me, bless her, this was so wonderful. After the arduous journey from bathroom to labouring room, I came down to earth on my all fours and felt my baby well and truly on the way. I think maybe I was in there for an hour or so, of my baby travelling down their birth canal within me and all I wanted to do was bring this baby into our world. My midwife was asking me to hold the pushing urge, so I could stretch the perineum and reduce the risk of tear; this was very difficult, as I was so ready to hold this little baby in my arms. And after much visualisation of travelling on an iron blue tar sealed road, watching the white lines go past at a fast rate and wondering when the corner was going to come, there was my baby, born down their birth canal through my vagina and between my legs. My baby was passed through to me, I stared down at this little one and he stared back. Oh Wow! I sat back on my haunches, picked him up and sniffed him in, he smelt so good, I have never smelt anything as knowing as that smell. When I had come out of my cave between all fours and untangled myself from drips and umbilical cords, my little man lay in my arms and fed from my breast, straight away. We stayed like that together until his umbilical cord stopped pulsating. Skul removed him from his placenta. And we both looked at him and knew he was our Finn and we were in baby love bliss.
At this stage my midwife asked me how I would like to deliver the placenta and I opted for the injection to remove Finn’s placenta from my uterus. I had torn slightly and for a reason have no explanation for I insisted upon having stitches, so in came the stitching team, 3 of them gloved, masked and ready to go, with their trolley and plastic green packages. By this stage I was up on the bed with babe in arms, they opened their sterile packages and produce this long needle, I asked if they were going to put this in my vagina and they nodded, I looked to Carol and asked her what it looked like to her and she said that I would heal well with care and compresses. Once again, I found my voice and asked the stitching team to leave. It felt good to find my voice and be true to myself.
It was now was around 10:30pm and my midwife had stayed beyond her shift, to be with us giving us her continual support. Carol’s presence was invaluable to our journey. She helped me to regain my power as a birthing woman, to find confidence, strength and trust in this process of birth. All of which I had, but my fears overrode everything I knew and I became docile and was led numbly by the system. As Carol left, she came to say goodbye and share with us her joy and honour she had being with us on our journey and how she really enjoyed working with us to birth Finn. I am eternally grateful for fate delivering Carol to us on that night. She has inspired me, empowered me and through her work in supporting us, has given me the knowing of where I lay my boots in this world and that is to be with woman during pregnancy and labour, for continuation of support is vital.
We left the hospital at 2:ooam the following morning after I had peed filled out the appropriate forms, etc. I walked with a wide girth down the hallways of ‘King Edward Memorial HospitaI’. Skul carried our Finn in the billum; we left the hospital as a family. Walking out into the crisp night air to find a perfect story book moon suspended in the still sky amongst the sparkling stars. We arrived home, careful not to wake anybody and in the morning surprised our families with our son, Finn.
