VBAVBAC - my birth story

The successful VBAVBAC of Morgan Christopher Ireland 10th March, 2006 - By Jane Ireland   This is my birth story of my third child, Morgan Christopher. I started jotting this experience down on paper when Morgan was 8 weeks, and gradually worked on it for roughly 1 ½ years. The labour and birth of Morgan was relatively short and easy, however, the lead-up was testing on myself, my husband Chris, and I’m sure my support team as I went just over 3 weeks past my “due date” according to my calculations. I can 99% guarantee my dates were accurate as Chris and I have used the Billings Method as a form of contraception for years now, so I understand the changes within my body during my cycles.   Morgan was my second successful vaginal birth after caesarean and a very satisfying experience for me. Morgan’s labour and birth was achieved without pain relief, over a period of 8 hours (3 hours being active labour), and with a support team who understood my wishes and desires for this birth. I fully informed my team, which consisted of my husband Chris, my friend Larissa who I met through CARES (Caesarean Recovery Education Support), and our midwives, Ros and Anne from the Midwifery Group Practice at the Women’s and Children’s Hospital. I can honestly say that I enjoyed every moment of this labour and birth, and there was no point throughout my labour that I felt fear or thought I couldn’t do it.   My first child, Taylor Christopher, was birthed by caesarean in 1994 with a private obstetrician in a private hospital. I was showing signs of pre-labour at 5 days past my due date when my obstetrician decided to get the ball rolling. I was admitted to hospital for a routine induction with prostaglandin gels, followed by a second lot of gels 12 hours later. With no noticeable results, it was decided by my obstetrician to break my waters – 9 hours after the second lot of gels had been applied. Labour then started with mild period like contractions almost immediately. After another 2 hours, my obstetrician was not happy with my progress as I had only dilated 1cm and decided to use the Syntocinon drip. After another 2 hours, an internal examination was performed and I had dilated to 4cm. I was coping well and so was my baby, however, my obstetrician soon returned to the room explaining that I should have an epidural at this point as the anaesthetist was leaving the hospital and wouldn’t be able to return if in the event I “changed my mind”. Even though I really didn’t feel I needed an epidural at this point, we graciously accepted. Taylor started showing signs of distress about 2 hours after we had the epidural. His heart rate was dipping with the contractions. We persisted for another 2 hours, but then there were signs of severe foetal distress. Taylor’s heart rate would dip to around 70 during a contraction and then rise once the contraction had subsided. Our midwife who seemed quite inexperienced to us became anxious, and our obstetrician was called in to review our progress. She was not happy with the readouts from the CTG machine and called for an emergency caesarean.   I still remember crying while I signed the consent form as this was not what I had hoped for. I believed in my body and that it could birth vaginally, but unfortunately, my obstetrician managed this whole labour and birth medically – hence why I ended up with a caesarean. Taylor was a small baby weighing 2,900 grams, 46cm length and 33.5cm head circumference. Man-made medicine, my body and my baby just didn’t seem to gel together for a natural birth to take place.   Eight years later, we fell pregnant with Brianna Jane. I knew right from the moment of discovering we were pregnant that I wanted to try for a vaginal birth, so I contacted CARES for support and advice. I listened to other women’s amazing experiences and decided to use an Independent Midwife and would attempt for a home birth. We hired Ros, and the care we received was so much more personal than private care. Ros came to our home for our antenatal visits, and was available any time for me to call and chat. Brianna’s labour was long and hard – 37 hours. We managed 31 hours at home without pain relief, but maternal exhaustion set in and we transferred to the hospital for an epidural.   Fortunately, things went well, and with a small amount of Syntocinon to keep the regularity of the contractions, Brianna was birthed vaginally another 6 hours later. She was very petite – 2,700 grams, 46cm length and 33cm head circumference. I did experience second degree tearing, going on to third degree which was what made my recovery from this birth very drawn out and long. I became anaemic too after this birth as I had experienced some heavy bleeding ten days after the birth. It took me a good 5-6 weeks before I felt “normal” again and managed my daily chores without feeling like a zombie.   Overall, this birth was very satisfying and healing for me compared to my first “managed” birthing experience – just hard work. My use of midwifery care also played an important role in this birth and allowed me to feel “in control” of what was happening.   Morgan’s 43-44 week pregnancy on the other hand was extremely challenging, especially the last 3 weeks. I had lost a baby only 8 weeks prior to conceiving Morgan, and it wasn’t until I felt that first little kick that I became confident we wouldn’t lose this baby too. Our little lost one passed away in utero at approximately 13-14 weeks gestation from a condition I acquired in my first trimester called camphylobacter. This is a bug, which invades the bowel system and is most commonly contracted from eating undercooked chicken or offal. The symptoms I had with this condition were diarrhoea for approximately 5 continuous days – eventually causing my bowels to start bleeding. It wasn’t until our 18 week appointment at the hospital that it was discovered our baby had died and I was immediately admitted for a dilation and curette (D&C) to remove the foetus.   At 13 weeks into this pregnancy, I had experienced spotting after a night of uterus contractions and I suspected that something may have happened. My GP didn’t feel that this particular medical condition would affect my pregnancy even after I explained what I had experienced – how wrong she was.   After the routine D&C, I started searching for the answers to why I had lost this child. I started blaming myself for eating the chicken which Chris had cooked on the BBQ at my parent’s house one weekend. I then thought, “I wasn’t the one who cooked the chicken”, so I started to blame Chris and even accused him of poisoning me and killing our baby. I cried continually for my lost child, especially at night. I started wondering the sex of our baby and whether I should have asked this question at the hospital when my baby was removed from my body. Chris and I both knew that for me to overcome this loss, I needed to fall pregnant again and the sooner the better.   The children too were looking forward to another sibling – I’m sure they were grieving in there own way, even though they didn’t show it. Brianna still talks about our “little angel” and draws pictures of our baby we lost.   Unfortunately, I did have some side effects after the D&C which I was sure were going to interfere with our chances of falling pregnant again so quickly. During my first ovulation after the D&C I experienced severe abdominal pains – so severe I had to dose up on panadeine forte for at least 4-6 days to be able to tolerate the pain. An ultrasound found nothing; however, a routine internal examination and swabs discovered I had bacterial vaginosis – a common condition found in many women. I was prescribed a course of antibiotics to resolve the problem, and hopefully next cycle I shouldn’t experience the pain again.   My second ovulation after the procedure I experienced the same symptoms – 3 weeks after the start of my last period, so we went back to our GP and she sent us off for another ultrasound, performed more swabs and prescribed another course of antibiotics just in case there were any signs of bacterial vaginosis still present.   The swab results came back all clear; however, the ultrasound showed that I had a corpeus luteal cyst on my left ovary which was consistent with recent ovulation at day 22 of my cycle. This type of cyst is common and appears with ovulation, so there was no reason for concern. I was comforted in knowing that the pain I was experiencing was not in my head and there was a reason for it. I also felt positive that we may fall pregnant this cycle as we had been having sex quite often – even with all the abdominal pain I had been experiencing. It’s amazing what a woman can do, even with abdominal discomforts, just to fall pregnant.   I decided not to get too anxious when my next period was due, and continued to wait the normal 2 weeks past my due date before I would go and buy a pregnancy testing kit should my period not come. I was very excited, but also very nervous. 2 weeks overdue and I decided it was time to do the test. The test was negative! I couldn’t believe it, I was sure we were pregnant. My sister rang me this particular day and told me she was pregnant, so that was another big blow for me because I so desperately wanted to be pregnant. I felt jealously towards my sister – only briefly though, but I did feel it.   Another week went by and still no period, so I did the second test in the kit, not expecting anything, however, this one proved right, a pink line appeared – we were pregnant! I was so overjoyed, but very scared too. I really wanted a closer gap between Brianna and our third, but sometimes nature plays its role for a reason. We told our children, Taylor (10) and Brianna (2 ½) immediately, as we felt they deserved to hear the good news too. We weren’t the only ones who had been on a bumpy roller coaster ride.   I was unsure about when to tell our family and friends though as I was embarrassed enough that we had lost a baby due to my carelessness of food, and having to explain the loss over and over again. We decided to play it day by day, and when the day was right, we would share our news.   I did however contact Ros – my midwife I had used with Brianna. I wanted her to know our wonderful news and that I wished to use her again as our midwife. We made a decision early to use Ros as our midwife through the Midwifery Group Practice at the Women’s and Children’s Hospital. Ros shares the role as Head of this unit, along with another wonderful midwife, Anne, who we were fortunate enough to have care for us too.   At around 11 weeks, my joy overcame me, and we announced to our family that we were expecting baby number three. Everyone was thrilled for us, and weren’t surprised as to how quickly we became pregnant again. I was very open to people about my loss – it helped me grieve to talk openly to those I felt closest.   My first trimester was a breeze. No morning sickness, no tiredness, minimal weight gain. Just a small belly bump by 13 weeks, which was when I announced to my work colleagues I was expecting. They were all thrilled and somewhat in shock as I had only started working with this company 3 months prior. It was only a part-time role as receptionist and I certainly had no intentions of ever making this job my career. It was just a fill-in job for me with some extra money to help with the family expenses.   Our first appointment at the hospital was with the obstetrician to get the “all clear” to be able to use the midwifery based care because I’d had a previous caesarean. Silly really, considering my most recent birth was a spontaneous onset of labour which resulted in a successful vaginal birth. However, my caesarean was performed because an obstetrician couldn’t wait for labour to start and decided to induce me, which resulted in a snowball effect of intervention with disastrous outcomes. I was given the usual talk about uterine rupture and the figures that go along with this talk and I kindly reminded them that my scar has been tried before so there was no need for this little chat. I was also informed that if labour had not started by 40 weeks, I was to come in to discuss my options of care.   Our next visit to the hospital was for our 19 week ultrasound. I was nervous because I hadn’t felt our baby move at all, whereas Brianna, I could feel fluttery movements from around 15 weeks gestation. But my fear soon turned to elation as the sonographer performed all the routine checks and announced baby was fine.   When I returned home, I pulled out Taylor’s and Brianna’s ultrasound photographs to compare my children at this term of gestation. They all had the same cute little upturned nose and this baby’s measurements were definitely larger than Taylor and Brianna. It was at this point that I suspected Morgan was going to be a boy for the very first time. I kept this little thought to myself.   At 22 weeks, we were away on vacation with my family at Port Vincent when I felt the first little movements. Finally, all my worries seemed to disappear. I started to enjoy my growing body and nourished it with all the right foods. I was very particular with what I ate this pregnancy, ensuring I had lots of fresh fruit and vegetables, dairy products, fish and lots of red meat. I think my loss of my last child had a lot to do with my diet – even so much as to avoiding any chicken products, including eggs.   Pregnancy continued, and I reached 32 weeks which is where I became anxious about my upcoming birth with Brianna’s pregnancy. This anxiety didn’t occur at this time in Morgan’s pregnancy. I was surprised at how I was actually looking forward to my labour and birth, even after my first traumatic birth which was medically managed, and then my second birth which was very long and very hard. I believed in my body and spoke to my baby daily that we could do this together. I was glowing and everyone around me could see how I was looking forward to this upcoming birthing experience.   Around 34 weeks however, I started to become anxious about birthing in a hospital and started doubting my support team – even Chris, my husband. I started accusing him of failing me with Taylor’s birth as he wasn’t with me at the time the obstetrician had broken my waters. I also started wondering if I had Ros’ full support as she was now working in a hospital environment and I wasn’t using her independently. I wondered if Ros would have to adhere to “hospital policies” during my labour and birth considering she was working for a hospital, and if so, could this interfere with my wishes and desires for a positive and active birth? I had lots of questions, and found it hard to talk to Ros at this point, hence why Chris was mediator between 34-36 weeks.   However, I eventually overcame these fears and regained the trust in my team once I had my birth blessing at 37 weeks. Despite the weather being a ridiculous 42 degrees, my support network was keen to continue with this womanly ritual that the women of CARES have developed. We spent the afternoon beading bracelets together, which my special friends would wear every day until I birthed my baby. Each woman was also asked to bring a special bead and to thread it onto a strand that I would keep close to me throughout the remainder of my pregnancy, then at my labour and birth. They also wrote special birth blessings, encouraging me that I could achieve my birthing desire once again. Each and every woman at my special day believed in me …. that is the one thing I needed, was to be believed in, so I could believe in myself.   Then came 38 weeks, 39 weeks – and a show! Things were progressing. This show continued right up til my baby was born. It was a very long show you could say.   The days progressed, and it soon became 40 weeks and then 41 weeks …. I was beginning to become anxious. Chris and I were like rabbits, have intercourse at least 2, sometimes 3 times a day to help soften the cervix enough to prompt labour to commence. At an internal performed by Ros at 41 weeks something was clearly happening as I was 3cm dilated with a softening cervix.   After our appointment, I became extremely emotional. Ros suggested we commence acupuncture. So I started the acupuncture and chinese herbs at 41 weeks as a desperate measure to kick-start things. I had 3 rounds over a 3 day period. The first appointment was fine, the second was horrific. Every needle that was inserted to various pressure points hurt like anything. I didn’t want to be there at all. Chris wasn’t with me on this visit, so I felt very out of my comfort zone. On the third visit, which I dredded, it all went smoothly. There was no pain, but twang, I felt a contraction. The acupuncturist ceased performing her magic at this point as she was afraid I’d go into labour on her table! I didn’t care, all I wanted was those damn needles left in so things would start moving faster than they were. I left with the chinese herbs which I divulged into when I arrived home. These were to assist in combination with the acupuncture that I’d just had on my very heavily pregnant body.   At 41 weeks also, I was required to have an appointment with the consult (the head of the obstetrics team within the labour and delivery unit at the hospital) as part of the hospital policy. I wasn’t comfortable with this appointment as I knew the obstetrician I was seeing wasn’t favourable towards VBACs. The obstetrician did a thorough examination of the baby and the amniotic fluid levels to ensure everything was still going just fine. Baby was still strong, plenty of fluid, so she allowed me to go to 40 plus 10 days, but on the 10th day, I was to make my way in for an induction. I had other plans and had no intention of being told what to do by this woman.   I had to do some thorough research to find out exactly what obstetrician would be the consult on the day I was “due” to be admitted for an induction. Unfortunately, it was the consult I’d seen, and considering she’d written on my hospital notes that “in her opinion, I would have been admitted at 40 weeks 6 days for an elective caesarean”, there was no way I was entering the institution for an induction. I researched what other obstetricians would be monitoring the labour ward floor during that week, and in consult with my midwives, we discussed who would support my decisions, not 100%, but more favourably over the others. It had to be someone who was VBAC supportive. So now I had my list in hand, I needed to decide when I would be admitted if nothing miraculously happened.   Ros came around every 2nd day from 41 weeks. We performed numerous stretch and sweeps as my cervix was thin and favourable. I didn’t want to be induced as per the apparent hospital policy of 41 weeks plus 3 days, so continued allowing my baby to grow within my body. There was a reason why my baby wasn’t entering my arms yet, and it wasn’t until my baby was born I found out why!   I was in two frames of mind. What to do? I didn’t want to birth in hospital as this baby could possibly be my last, I wanted my homebirth. I’d beginning to have nightly contractions every 2nd day from 41 weeks which lasted up to 5 hours, but when the sun shone through the windows, the contractions would cease, and another day would begin. I was dilating, gradually. I think I was able to be dilated to 3cm; my cervix was at 75% effaced with baby’s head pressing firmly down on the cervix at around 41 ½ weeks. I could even feel my baby’s scalp when I did my own internals. I enjoyed performing my own internals, it gave me reassurance that my body was doing its job - it was just taking its time! So I continued at home, doing what I was doing, walking, sex, relaxing. The kids had gone to my sisters as I was in that magical place called “labour land” and not thinking straight. I was trying to concentrate on birthing and I couldn’t do this with my two children around.   I went for a check-up to have the baby monitored at the hospital at around 42 weeks and requested to speak to the head of obstetrics regarding my situation. I knew he was fully supportive of VBAC, so felt comfortable with our meeting. He was informed by Ros of my progress and he felt comfortable that I knew what I was doing. He had a good relationship with Ros and believed she was taking all the steps necessary to ensure the safety of myself and my baby. He gave me his full blessing to go home and “get into labour”.   Chris decided to start commencing his annual leave after this appointment to offer me support. It was a very emotional time – lots of tears, wondering if I could possibly achieve my VBAC by being induced. I didn’t want to be home alone, so we spent valuable time together. We had plenty to talk about, it was an exciting time. We again spent lots of time having intercourse right up til the morning I went in for my induction.   The day came that I decided I’d had enough. Baby was running out of room, I was feeling uncomfortable. Sex no longer “did it for me” and I wasn’t enjoying it. I called Ros and informed her that Thursday, 9 March was the date I’d chosen to be induced if nothing happens before then. I chose this day because I didn’t think my baby would be born on that day, I don’t like odd numbers, and I was aware that the consult who would be on the labour ward at the start of my labour was, well, kind of VBAC supportive, but the obstetrician who was to be on duty on the 10 March was the head of obstetrics. So I had my little plan and I stuck to it.   The day prior to being induced, Chris and I spent a lovely afternoon at Glenelg. We enjoyed lunch at my favourite café, Zest, and afterwards, strolled along the foreshore of the Glenelg precinct. It was a day I will never forget. I didn’t feel “spaced out” like I had done previously. I think I was ready mentally, emotionally and physically to birth my baby. My day had nearly come. We had our last tears together and promised that there would be no tears on the day I was going to go in to be induced. It was an early night to bed and I slept like a baby – there was no pre-labour action that night, so I was fully revitalised and refreshed.   The day I was to go in for my induction, we woke around 7am, had intercourse just to add a bit more semen over my cervix, and waited for my support person Larissa to arrive. She arrived at 8am and we made our way to the hospital.   We arrived at the hospital at 8.30am and waited in the Women’s Assessment for Ros to arrive. Her smiling face entered the room and we welcomed each other with hugs. I told her it was to be a no tears day – not until I met my little one. I didn’t cry after having Morgan, in fact I haven’t cried after birthing any of my babies. Chris does that for me. I think it’s such an overwhelming experience for me at that moment of birth when I see my babies, tears just aren’t possible. There were too many crazy hormones running around upsetting my womanly balance. I usually have pretty bad baby blues to make up for the crying, but after Morgan’s birth, I didn’t get any of this. It was a nice change to just enjoy your baby and not going through the baby blues, wondering how things could have been if I’d done things differently. I wouldn’t have changed any of my birth – to me, it was just perfect and ideal.   We were admitted, and made our way up to labour ward. As I was being induced, I couldn’t be in a birthing suite and had to be in a normal labour room. I chose room 16 which was right next to the birthing suites and ironically, the same room my sister had birthed her daughter in 7 weeks earlier. I felt safe being in this room, I was as far away from the labour ward desk as possible. I felt that by being closer to the ward desk, the easier it is for “them” to come in and invade your privacy as it is where the staff congregate.   We made ourselves comfortable in the room by around 9.30am, placing my beads from my birth blessing day and a photograph of my children next to the bed. After 2 ½ hours of waiting, the registrar finally made her way in to break my waters, or rather, attempt to break my waters. After an internal and assessing I was able to stretch to 5cm and 90% effaced, she attempted to rupture my membranes. No luck. She informed me syntocinon would be needed to get labour going. This person obviously had not read my birth wishes. I informed her that I would like her superior to come and “do the job” properly. Not sure how well she took this, but I’ve had my membranes ruptured before and clearly know the feeling once this has been achieved. It is a feeling a release and I become heavier down there.   About ½ hour later, the consult came in to the room and successfully ruptured my membranes. It was now roughly 12.30pm. A nice pink fluid came out of my vagina which was an excellent sign, no foetal distress. We did about ½ hour of monitoring of the baby and things were going great. Baby was coping well, I was relaxed, we could continue our journey of having a VBAC as planned.   When the registrar left, he looked at me and said he would see me at 4.30pm to administer syntocinon. I asked him if he’d read through my birth wishes, and if not, perhaps he should do so. I don’t think he was impressed with my upfront attitude towards how this birth was going to be. I was in control, not him. This was my body and I was going to birth my baby my way. Ros informed me after birthing that he questioned my birth wishes, he wanted to know how I come I was thorough with my wishes by the terminology I’d used. “Normal birthing couples don’t need to know that kind of information” is what his response apparently was. Ros told him politely that we were a well informed, experienced birthing couple who clearly had done our research thoroughly.   Chris, Larissa and I decided to go for a walk to Subway and have some lunch just after 1pm. I was rather excited at this point, happy that I was soon to meet my baby. We walked briskly through North Adelaide, divulged into some food, and made our way, ensuring we walked the long way, back to the hospital. As we approached the hospital, I started to feel disappointed for Larissa that things weren’t turning out the way I had envisioned. To me, she felt uncomfortable with what was happening in regards to the induction at the hospital as I was her first woman she would be birthing with that was being induced. We agreed for her to leave, and if we needed her later, we’d call.   Chris and I made our way up the stairs and boy, did things start to kick in. It was about 2pm at this stage and every couple of steps results in good contractions which took my breath away. I think we went up and down them several times before venturing into our room.   Ros came in, did some obs, jotted some information in my notes and left us to it. Chris and I lied on the bed together, chatting. I asked him to rub my nipples and see if that had any effect. Within minutes there was a contraction and it was a good contraction too. I asked him to continue as the contractions were regular enough, so we kept the nipple stimulation until my contractions were functioning by themselves. I went out and shared the news with Ros. I think they were roughly 5 minutes apart at this point, lasting about 30 seconds.   At around 4.30pm things were really kicking in. Contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart and lasting up to 1 minute. I didn’t need Chris’ magical fingers to do their trick, contractions were regular and I was becoming active. I enjoyed squatting during the contractions; it gave me the feeling of opening, like a lotus flower. I remember specifically at one point Ros in the room and I was having a contraction and laughing in hysterics. Ros asked what was so funny and I explained to her that I was using the lever to adjust the hydraulic seat up and down as my microphone with the contraction - vocalising and being loud.   Shortly after my outburst of laughter, Ros explained that “they” wanted to know my progress as we promised an update by 4pm. We stretched this by ½ hour. So she left the room and went  to inform them that we were in labour, active labour and syntocinon was not needed.   Time was ticking away, and I was thoroughly enjoying every moment of labour. The contractions were bearable and I was managing them myself with minimal noise. I did lots of pacing in the room – making the most of the space we had. It was soon 7.30pm, then 8.30pm. I recall looking out the window towards the sun, talking to Ros how I couldn’t wait for the sun to go down as I knew it was going to really get going when this happened.   9pm came and Ros had to go back to the desk and report on my progress. She returned, informing me that they wanted a more detailed report of my progress and needed to know my dilation. I wasn’t looking forward to this, I have horrible memories of my internal examination during labour with Brianna and it was extremely painful. This time, I must’ve been in the correct position for Ros and it didn’t hurt at all. Ros was beaming, she informed me I was fully effaced and 5cm dilated. So she took delight in going to tell them at the desk that everything was going beautifully.   By 9.30pm things were really getting going. It was time for the midwives to change shift. Anne arrived and Ros left. She promised me she’d be right next door if I needed her. I stripped off and jumped in the shower. I spent the next 1 1/2 hours in the shower, singing, squatting, complaining, pooing. The amount of poo that came out of me is quite gross actually. They say you poo when giving birth, not when labouring. This was a good sign though. Anne gave me positive words that she could see lots of bulging happening around the labia. It was happening and I was still, can you believe it, thoroughly enjoying it and not in any need of pain relief. The hot water from the shower was enough, and it was hot. Apparently I didn’t even have the cold on.   I’d had enough of the shower, so out I got. We set up a yoga mat on the floor, a beanbag for me to relax after the contraction, and Chris was ready to start playing his role. His job was to put towels that had been soaked in boiling hot water on my lower back. I get a lot of lower back pain during my labours. My babies aren’t posterior; this is just how I labour, mostly in the back. The hot towels were a relief and I would recommend them to any woman who experiences this kind of back pain during labour.   My contractions were very kind to me throughout my whole labour. From this point they were like a wave effect. They were regular and I understood them. I would have an extremely painful wave of a contraction, a break of about 1 minute, then a milder contraction, then another 1 minute break, then a weaker contraction. How lucky was I. I knew and was aware how my contractions were working, so therefore, I knew what position to put myself in to get the most effect with helping the baby to move down my body and into my arms. I starting having vaginal bleeding which I wasn’t prepared for, but Anne reassured me this is normal and it was only minimal bleeding.   At around 11.30pm all of a sudden went into panic. Ros was back in the room which I was grateful for. She was my guardian angel and I needed her with me. I got up off the ground, naked and showing all, and walked towards the door which led to the hall. I stood there thinking that this was a dream. If I walked out of that door, I would wake up and this would all be over. This was not happening to me. I believed I was dreaming. It was quite a surreal feeling at this point – almost like an out-of-body experience. It was at this point I went into transition. Pitty I didn’t realise at the time.   After I snapped out of this little moment and came to the conclusion that this wasn’t a dream, I went over to Ros. I demanded drugs and I demanded them now. She just looked at me blankly. I moved onto Anne who was the toughest of the lot. No – couldn’t convince her either and I knew that. I remember Anne’s words at this point, such beautiful words I will remember forever. She told me that “this is so good for you Jane”. How such simple words kept me going. I forgot about the drugs and went back to my mat to continue with labouring and birthing my baby.   Anne checked the baby and there were some signs of distress. No-one was panicking; it was only a mild variation in heartbeat during a contraction. An internal was suggested to see what was happening. Anne clearly didn’t want to do it, so Ros, much to her disappointed performed this. Ouch – that hurt! Ros looked at me and told me I was 9cm and nearly there. I couldn’t believe it. In a short period of about 2 hours I’d dilated a whopping 4cm. No wonder that back pain was excruciating. I became extremely frustrated. I could feel the baby move up and down the birth canal and I became annoyed. Why wasn’t my baby just moving in the one direction instead of going back up! Anne asked me to try pushing, but I had no urge, so I wasn’t going to. I asked for some assistance, so Ros went and got the registrar. I think it was a good decision at this point as my baby was showing signs of distress. I felt comfortable with this decision and I think my team were glad I made the decision, not them.   I still remember the look on the registrars face as he walked in the room. It was a momentary look of shock. Ros explained after my birth that they don’t usually see women in the full throws of labour very often. Women are usually lying flat on their backs, hooked up to machinery with blankets covering them.   I’d been stuck squatting on my back for about 10 minutes and couldn’t move. I needed to move as the registrar asked me to get on the bed. I had a moment of “I’m not getting on that bed”, but managed to move up with assistance from Chris. Moving was the best thing I could’ve done. I crawled up the bed like some creature, not a woman getting on graciously, I crawled like a spider.   As soon as I was on the bed, supported by Ros and the registrar, the contractions changed. I had no control of what was happening. My body took over. I was involuntarily pushing my baby out and it was happening fast – very fast. There didn’t seem to be any break between these contractions and they were strong. Now I think about it, I found this moment quite scary as I was not in control anymore. I had no control, my body which I controlled everyday had taken over. Now I knew what women talk about when they say their bodies take over and they just ride with it. It’s just amazing, truly amazing this feeling I felt. Quite unexplainable.   Ros and the registrar held my hands and I pushed against the bed. I remember the look on Ros’ face when the head crowned. She told me to keep pushing and gave me strength. I looked at her directly in the eyes and she kept me going. I wasn’t pushing; my body was doing all the work for me, but I did help it when I was guided by Ros. She wanted me to do this myself and I think was trying to hurry me up before the registrar became involved. Well, the time came when he became involved in my birth. He had to get his little hands in on the action. I’d asked him to come in the room and assist with this birth, so I had no choice at this point other than to let him. I was grateful he was there, even though I knew I could’ve done it without him. I might’ve torn, but I could’ve done it.   The ventouse was applied to my baby’s head and I was asked if I would like an episiotomy. For a split second I remembered the pain I had after Brianna’s birth when I tore and graciously accepted. It was a tiny 1cm episiotomy, hardly really worth it, but it was done. The pain was just unbearable, there was no turning back, I was doing it, I was birthing my baby, drug-free. Not at home, not unmanaged in some way, but drug-free. That was all I wanted, drug-free and I was doing it. I managed the pain I was feeling at this point by cocooning myself underneath a cool flannel. I was hiding from what was happening.   The head was out, and then the body was out. It was beautiful. To feel my baby’s body leaving my body. Soon we were to be disconnected when the placenta came out. I think at this point I went into a momentary second of shock. I was holding my baby, everyone was smiling at me, but I wasn’t connecting with what had just happened. All I could think about was the pain. I could hear Ros saying “you’ve had your baby” and I looked down at my baby. I looked at Chris who was crying; I looked at my team and thanked them from the bottom of my heart. This was a big baby to me, not petite like my last, and I was literally blown away with the size. We discovered we’d had another boy. We announced his name was Morgan.   I only held Morgan for about 5 minutes before he was taken for checks. He was post-dates, so this was important. He had healthy apgars of 9 and 10, cried immediately, had good colour, so he was clearly healthy and happy. While he was being checked, the third and final stage took place. I wasn’t expecting to have my placenta ripped from me by the registrar, and this wasn’t the most pleasant experience. I was very scared that some placenta wouldn’t detach from my uterus and there would be haemorrhaging. It all came away nicely, but I would’ve preferred to have expelled this myself. I had with Brianna, so I don’t understand why I couldn’t with Morgan. I still don’t understand fully, it probably has to do with “hospital policy”.   Morgan continued crying until he came back to me when I gently spoke to him and welcomed him to my world. He looked up at me and it was instant love between Morgan us. I placed him on the breast where he latched on immediately and suckled away for about ½ hour. Chris and I had our first moment together of happiness and love as new parents again and a couple who had just achieved something together. I thanked the registrar for his help and Anne for her help also. Then I thanked Ros. I gave her the biggest squeeze and told her how she will always have a special place in my heart and thanked her once again for believing in me.   So I’ve finally made the end of my story about the birth of my third child. This could be the last child we have, but Chris and I will never say that Morgan is our last. We don’t know what the future holds for us. I think deep down we would like one more child, but for now, we are happy enjoying each of our three children. They are all at different stages in their lives and such a joy to watch grow and develop daily. I feel satisfied as a birthing woman; I have achieved my ultimate birthing desire, a drug-free birth. I feel sad that many women don’t, and won’t get experience this kind of birth or have the kind of midwifery care that I had. jx