And then there were three - Part two

Previously, on “Tricky gets born” - Booked in for an induction but didn't need it (hooray!), got put on a Syntocinon drip to speed up labour and Tricky had a bad reaction to it (boo!), got prepped for a caesarean section (boo, hiss!). If you want to read all about it, have a look at part one. If you're up to speed then keep reading...

In the next few hours my contractions still weren't doing much. This is what the obstetric community call 'stalled labour' but an old-school midwife will tell you that labour never stalls, it just slows down when the labouring woman is faced with danger. It is the classic case of fight or flight. Our bodies are designed to temporarily halt labour so that we can run away from a sabre tooth tiger if we need to... unfortunately the shock of being prepped for surgery does the same thing.

At 1.40pm I was 3cm dilated and the contractions were about 4 minutes apart. Not good enough. More Syntocinon was ordered, but this time at a lower strength. Were these people trying to make Tricky distressed again? He had such a bad reaction last time but yet you're going to try it again? It made no sense to me. So as the Syntocinon went up, my spirits went down.

It acted fast. My contractions started coming every two minutes and were lasting for what seemed like half an hour but was more likely two minutes from first twinge to peak to final release. I was wearing a TENS machine for natural pain relief and I was getting close to the top setting – it was no match for the super contractions. The drip was stopped after half an hour because it was obvious it was becoming too much for me. It was now 2.25pm and I was at 4cm. All of that for one lousy centimetre!

Even though the Syntocinon drip had stopped the contractions were becoming more and more intense. I was told that it would be another four to six hours of labour and the midwives suggested I have an epidural since it didn't look like I would progress much more on my own and with the pain relief they'd be able to crank up the Syntocinon and get the show on the road. These afternoon midwives, Penny (not to be confused with Aunty Penny) and Mary, were amazingly supportive and when they said they were proud of me for going so far without pain relief I believed them (Miss Melodrama's shift had finished and I was glad to see the back of her). I don't know why, but those few words made me feel a little bit better. I had done more than had been expected of me hours earlier when I was being prepped for a c-section, so even if I wasn't going to get my natural birth, at least I'd felt some of it.

In the next ten minutes my contractions went insane! They were less than thirty seconds apart and lasting for two minutes. I was getting no break between them and I was pounding the boost button on my hired TENS machine so furiously that I might not get my deposit back. Penny had gone to get the anaesthetist and Mary stayed with me and Hubby, helping me focus and breathe. It was 2.35pm... I told her I felt like pushing... she checked me... I had gone from 4cm to 10cm in ten minutes. So THAT'S why it had started hurting so much! I was being offered the epidural for what they thought was an unreasonable level of pain only to realize I was in transition (the stage between 8cm and 10cm, considered the most painful stage of labour)! Women in transition have been known to say they have changed their mind, they're not having this baby, and they would like to leave now, thank you very much. I can see why.

She said I could push whenever I felt like it. But there was a slight problem... I had not heard her say that I was at 10cm. I was thinking “Are you crazy, woman?! I'm at 4cm and you're saying I can push?! You're all insane!”. So I used all my strength to resist the urge to push, thinking I was about to injure myself! Only ten minutes ago she had said we were looking at about five more hours and gone to call the anaesthetist. Penny and Mary managed to get my attention somehow and told me that this was it, they could see Tricky – he was coming now! We were go for launch!

The room got very busy all of a sudden! The OB came rushing in announcing with a laugh that the second most important person in the room was now here. Penny and Mary were running around getting everything ready and a student midwife stood watching the scene unfold in front of her, trying not to get in the way. Hubby, who had been holding my hand, rubbing my back, pressing the acupressure pain relief points this whole time, whispered words of encouragement and love to me, saying our baby was about to be born... and I STILL didn't quite believe it.

His cord had stayed by his head and therefore the pressure on it while he was coming out meant his heart rate started dropping again so an episiotomy had to be done because there was no time to let me stretch that last little bit naturally . About half a dozen pushes later... Tricky came in to the world at 2.54pm weighing 3825grams (8lb 7oz), measuring 54cm long (21.3 inches) with a head circumference of 36cm (14.2 inches) and was placed on my chest.

His crushed cord and low heart rate meant we couldn't have the delayed clamping we had wanted, so the scissors were shoved in to Hubby's hands to do the cutting. He hadn't yet taken a breath and they wanted to take him to the “Cosy Crib” (what a lovely name for a piece of machinery that looks so ominous with heat lamps, wires and oxygen tanks!) to get him going, but in true Tricky style, the second the cord was cut he sucked in a huge breath and let out a fantastic cry! It was the most wonderful noise I have ever heard! Although ask me in a few weeks if I still think his cry is wonderful and I may have changed my mind.

Mary picked him up saying “I'll just give him to Aunty Penny for a check” and even in the haze of endorphins and adrenaline I remember thinking, no, he already has an Aunty Penny and she won't be happy if you take her title from her! A quick check over and he was handed straight back to me. Hubby and I stared at him in amazement, saying hello to him over and over again, looking at every inch of his body, in total awe that he was here. Mary and Penny fussed over all of us and then said the words that will stay with me forever, “We love to be proven wrong”. It dawned on me, I had done it. I had just given birth with only the supportive hands of my husband, a TENS machine and a whole lot of determination (some would call it being stubborn). I will admit that part of me wanted to say "I told ya so!" but I was too fascinated by this new creature in my arms to care about anything else.

Immediately I felt a fierce protective love for him. I had only just met this child and already I knew I would do anything and everything in my power to protect him. It had been such an adventure and now he was in our arms, perfect in every way. There are no words to describe the joy.

From water's breaking to birth had been ten hours... so I guess they got their average of 1cm an hour after all!

 Introducing Tricky

Note: In the coming weeks I'll endeavour to keep blogging my experiences with this new little guy as often as I can. From the nights with no sleep, the tears of the baby blues to the first meetings with the dog. I hope you'll come on this journey with me.

Bad blood

I have learned a few things from the antenatal classes Hubby and I have been attending these last few weeks and right up the top of the list is that if you have an opinion that differs ever so slightly from the midwife who runs our group, you are looked down upon like an unfit parent.

This week in class we were learning about cord blood banking – where the blood in the umbilical cord is harvested after birth and the stem cells within it are kept in a cryogenic bank for your own use later down the track (should your child or their siblings have a disease needing stem cell therapy) or donated to the public cord bank for whomever needs it (although WA doesn't have a public cord blood bank yet). So I put up my hand to ask if you could get enough cord blood if you were planning on delaying cord clamping after the birth (not clamping until the cord had stopped pulsating). Well, I was not Miss-Popular, I can tell you! I was met with a self important chuckle and the response “In short, yes you can still do it. But do you really want to make your baby so sick? Have him put under lights? And you can't breastfeed him you know!?”

Woah! What just happened there? Did the midwife who earlier had told us her job was to help and encourage you to make informed decisions just tell me off for being informed? I could feel my face flush with embarrassment and guilt. A young bloke in the class asked at this point what delayed cord clamping was and rather than explain to him the possible benefits and risks (see I'm not delusional, I know there are risks to everything), her answer to him was “Delayed cord clamping is when you delay clamping the cord”. Thanks, Captain Obvious, pretty sure he could have worked that out by himself. With a smirk she added “It causes jaundice which is very dangerous” and apparently that was the end of the discussion.

I'll point out here that delayed cord clamping has been associated with jaundice due to the extra red blood cells the baby's immature liver has to try to break down. According to the World Health Organisation the benefits of delayed cord clamping (increase in blood volume, lower mortality rates in cases of infant haemorrhage, increase in iron stores protecting from childhood anaemia) far outweigh the risks, especially in developed countries where jaundice (which most babies get to some extent anyway) is easily treatable. One of the main reasons immediate cord clamping was introduced in the first place was because of the injection of drugs given to speed up the delivery of the placenta, which can't be allowed to get to the baby – that's right, speed it all up so the doctors and nurses can go home early and not have to wait around for Mother Nature to do her stuff – she is such a bore you know.

So back to the class where I'd just been told off: The couple sitting next to Hubby and I leant over and said excitedly “We'll speak to you after OK?” So I spent the rest of the night half listening to the midwife telling me horror stories of how my body just won't cope and half wondering what the other couple were going to say.

At the end of the evening, we turned to the couple and found our birth soulmates! These people were not falling for the scaremongering and had conducted their own research too! We sat there chatting about what interventions we did and didn't want and why, which journal articles we had referenced and so on. These were two well educated, reasonable people and together we were being frowned upon as 'the hippies' bucking the medical system and endangering our children's lives. At the point where we were discussing birth plans the midwife walked over and interrupted us saying that it was stupid to have a plan, that you can't plan for these things because “it goes wrong all the time” Yep, her exact words. Gee thanks for the pep talk. What's so wrong about having a birth plan? I know that writing it down doesn't mean its going to happen, but it will help me and Hubby concentrate on our goal and lets the midwifery team assisting the obstetrician (who had told me to write one and has already signed off on mine saying he supports our wishes) know how they can best help us on the big day.

As they say, there is strength in numbers, and together the four of us managed to tell her we would still be having birth plans and yes we knew that birth was unpredictable. More remarkably was that the four of us also managed to restrain ourselves enough not to punch her in the jaw. We excused ourselves from the after class supper and carried on a clandestine conversation in the carpark where we learned that while we agreed on almost everything there were still a few points where we had very different opinions – but that was OK too, and it was nice hearing a different, strong opinion voiced by someone who knew what they were talking about, as opposed to those in the group who get all their information from cranky midwives and Today Tonight and are therefore understandably shit-scared.

When we parted to go home (after promising to swap phone numbers next week) I couldn't stop smiling – we weren't alone! Meeting them gave me new resolve to stick to my guns and assert my rights when I needed it most, because if you're around such negative 'you can't do it' attitudes you begin to believe them. I plan on trusting my body to do what it was made to do - what women have done since time began. I know things can and do go wrong, thats why I'm under the care of an obstetrician and will be giving birth in a hospital setting - not quite ready to go full-hippy home birth just yet.