Our final birth plan read like something you would read in a book called ‘How to Birth Organically’. No drugs, no needles, no doctors, no noise, no pain, no nursing students, no pooh. No, no, no, no, NO!
But heres how it really went down…
In the lead up to our due date I went through two boxes of raspberry tea in 2 weeks.
I was guzzling the concoction every minute of the day. Hot, lukewarm and cold. There were cups of the stuff strewn around our house on every ledge, table and flat surface possible. I drank so much the very thought of it makes me gag a little.
Apparently it’s suppose to get your uterus contracting and start your labor.
But so is walking briskly, climbing stairs, eating hot curries and ’a bit of attacking the ol pink fortress’;).
None of that worked for me.
The due date came and went. May 27. That day turned out to be hands down one of the saddest, heart breaking and darkest days Lachlan and I have experienced together.
Our pup Ash was getting real old but we asked her to hold on till the baby was due. May 27. She listened and obeyed the command like the beautiful obedient pup she was. Always wanting to please her masters. We wanted her to meet our new baby and be a big happy family together. But sadly the baby didn’t come that day and our beloved Ash looked up at us, so tired and told us she couldn’t wait any longer and she was ready to go.
Quiet tears streamed down our faces as we spend the long morning cuddling her in front of the fireplace until the vet arrived. The deep and painful sadness of saying goodbye to a beloved pet stays with you forever.
So on the day our baby was due to arrive in this world our other baby left it…and us.
The timing was uncanny. It was if our little girl Ash was making room for the new baby in our house and hearts. There’s no such thing as perfect timing when saying goodbye to our loved ones but this felt right. Our fur baby Ash required and had 100% of our love and affection and she would have come second fiddle when we bought the baby home. I imagine she would have been confused and sad that we couldn’t give her as much time as we once did and gave it all to the baby instead. So I feel like it was a blessing Ash left us when she did. I get wobbly chin every time I talk about it. Like now!
So moving on, pheeew, heavy!…
The only reason my labor began was because I went and had my uterus electrocuted. (Last blog post for those who don’t know what I’m talking about) followed by a second stretch and sweep. Our little bubba didn’t want to come out. It wasn’t ready, not cooked enough. But the doctors had me booked in for an induction at 42 weeks and I didn’t want drugs and man made hormones to be interfering with my birth.
I also didn’t want to go from feeling completely ‘no-pain normal’ to having intense and excruciating contractions within seconds. I didn’t think I could handle such agony all of a sudden and wanted it to be a gradual process. I reckon I would have been a full on throwing things, screaming, swearing and out of control birthing mother if that happened. I couldn’t imagine myself being all ‘calm-birth’ with that option. So I opted for the induction through acupuncture the day before the hospital was to induce me.
And, well, that went pear shaped but I did go into labor that evening.
I remember talking to my osteo, Amy, in the lead up to my due date. She told me that she absolutely loved her births, it was the best experience of her life and she would do it again and again if she could. I was shocked at this. I never knew woman could love giving birth so much. I’d only ever been warned of the pain and screaming. I’d seen it on the telly, in the movies, on the docos. Puffing, panting, screaming, blue faced pushing lying on a bed with legs spread.
So after hearing her stories I felt really positive that I was going to enjoy this. I became excited and impatient…and then finally the first pangs of a contraction hit me.
I was ready. Baby not so much. But my forced labor began anyway.
My midwife told me to try and go to bed at the first sign of labor. Get as much rest as you can before it gets too intense because you’re going to run a marathon.
“Nah, not me I thought, I’m going to cough this sucker out”, but I went to bed anyway.
When I woke up in the night I was beginning to contort my body into the fetal position at every contraction and my breathing became heavier. Bed became uncomfortable and I moved to the floor where I wiggled around and did the exact same movements.
Lach made me a little bed of towels in front of the heater panel at the end of our bed and by now I couldn’t lie and felt most comfortable on all fours, rocking back and forth, breathing in rhythm to the sensations my body was now riddled with. I started to make a strange sound along with each breath.. A sound that surprised me. A low, deep, throaty sound that I’d never made before. It was an embarrassing sound really. I thought I would be the silent type! But I went with it cause it felt good.
So I let it rip.
It got louder and more intense as the sensations became closer. I felt really calm. Like really calm. So calm that my eyes began to roll back in their sockets. Like I was on a really good high. I looked a real treat. In my saggy jumper, knickers, rocking back and forth, moaning like a koala on heat (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMXBV9oLbVk ) with my eyes rolling back into my skull while creepily whispering “I’m ok” to myself.
Without me knowing or giving a shit, Lach filmed me on his iphone, which has been quite traumatising to look back on. 
I moved from my little nest of towels to the shower and back and forth throughout the night. Lach would pat my head and bring me little plates of food and try to get me to eat. “You need your energy”. I would suck on a strawberry and spit it out. I was trying to get something out of my body and putting things in it felt weird. This went on for 13hrs before my midwife came over to check on me.
The relief when I saw her! I was sure she was going to take one look at me and send me to hospital, but no, I was only 5cm dilated. “I’ll come back in a few hours and check where you’re at then”. She came back 5 hrs later and checked again. “Only 6cm still, wait for two more hours and then come to hospital”. I’ll meet you there” she said. That was the shittest news I’d heard. Two more hours sounded like a life sentence when in that state.
I’d been dealing with this shit, calmly for 20 hrs now.
I was still at home and I wasn’t dilating because baby was in the stupid, wrong, tasered uterus position. So I persevered. Another two hours and then we made our way in to hospital. I lay awkwardly in the back of the car as Lach casually cruised his precious cargo into G-town. I was in a zone, so focussed on and enjoying my super hormone high, that I don’t even remember the drive very much. I imagine I was just lying there in the car having a quiet chat to myself.
I talked to myself a lot during labor. Kept panting to myself ‘I’m ok’. ‘This is normal’. ‘This is good pain’ ‘I’ve got this”. And I kept whispering to my vagina to ‘keep opening’.
Walking while in labor is real fun. It feels exactly like a small child is going to drop out between your legs… because obviously, that’s exactly what’s trying to happen. I hobbled on Lach’s arm into the hospital where we were greeted by Helen our midwife who led us to our suite. A quiet, dim lit space just for us.
This is where my baby would be born.
She had set it up perfectly. Soft, relaxing music was playing, the salt lamps were on and I could smell the familiar scent of clary sage burning in the oil burner. The pool was full and ready for the whale to enter its domain. She checked me again and I was only at 7cm.
Still a bit to go…
Helen our midwife, suggested I walk the stairs to try to get my baby to move into position. I really didn’t want too. I wanted to get in the warm water but I did what I was told. I was slipping out of my natural high by being in the bright lights of the staircase. The sensations were getting stronger and I was struggling to keep control. My throaty calls magnified by the acoustics of the staircase echoed through my entire body. It felt like little baby was armed with a hunting knife inside me and gashing at my womb trying to escape. Up, down, up, down the staircase I went until I could no more.
Back into the birthing suite, my sanctuary awaited me. The bath pool, my saviour. The warmth and pressure of the water felt like it melted my body as I floated around in there. Another dose of my hormones flooded my system as my eyes lulled back in their sockets. I was having a full out of body experience. I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
Another two hours passed.. Still at 7cm. I wasn’t dilating.
All that was happening down there was little boss baby still slashing around with that hunting knife like a little womb raider. ‘Wham, wham, slish, slash’
I was so exhausted and so tired that I couldn’t focus myself calmly through the sensations any longer. They were excruciating. The pressure on my back was too much. I felt like I was going to push out a pooh (literally, a pooh!) in the water and then drown in the nardy, murky water.
28 hrs in, I leaned into Lach’s lap and whispered the words I had been dreading to hear myself say.
“I can’t do this anymore. I need an epidural”. I was defeated.
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