Julia was due to be born around 18th October 2001. I was originally booked into the Geelong Hospital Birthing Centre, but I stupidly mentioned a cyst that I had in my head and like a hot-cake, I was shifted to the ante-natal clinic. I kept telling them that it was just a lump of flesh and a that neurologist had given me the all clear, but the doctors just nodded and gave the good old- 'Just in case...'
At about 30 weeks, my blood pressure shot through the roof. No other symptoms, just a bp of about 150/105. Eventually at 38 weeks, the doctors decided that I should have my babe induced. The medications weren't reducing my BP. The date of the inducement was Monday 8th October 2001. I remember the OB who booked the induction, telling me that because I was being induced, I would most likely need to be put on a drip then given an epidural all in order to bring down my blood pressure. Being a first time mother, with no female support in this state, I nodded and accepted it. I had done my research, I knew what all these interventions were, but because it was my body that wasn't coping, I didn't bother questioning.
At 8am on the big day, Andrew and I went to the
hospital for the first (as it turns out- only) application of the prostaglandin
gel (or should I say- pig
jism..LOL) at 8.30am. I was at the hospital for about 2 hours while
they externally monitored Julia’s heart rate and my blood pressure. They told
me to go home and get into bed and to return at about 4.30pm. So
we left the hospital, and got home at about 11.30am. I jumped into
bed to read at about midday, feeling slight period pain. The slight period pain
felt stronger and stronger, till at 1pm I decided to get up and have a walk and
a cup of tea. Just as I thought
about doing this, I heard a ‘pop’, but thought it was from outside. I rolled out
of bed and stood up, feeling 2 ‘runs’ of water, that was definitely not me
weeing myself. I then realised as
well that my period pains were quite regular and painful. They were 4 minutes apart and definitely
enough to make me take notice. We
called the hospital and were told to come in, but not to rush it. I had a piece
of toast and a cup of tea, by then the contractions were 3 minutes apart. On the way to the hospital I was really
uncomfortable. The contractions were 2 minutes apart and quite painful by the
time we got to the hospital at about 2pm. They monitored Julia, she was fine and
my blood pressure was stable.
They moved me into the
birthing room at about 3pm and I immediately went into the shower, on the roller
ball thingy. They did a VE and I was 3 cm dilated at 3.30pm. The next hour went like a blur. I remember asking for pethidine, being
told to wait and that I was doing really well just breathing and rocking through
the contractions. I remember I
looked at one of the mid-wives and asked for some gas. I was on the verge of freaking out with
the pain… (Andrew has told me that I actually screamed) She had me lie over a bean bag with
pillows heaped on top of it and showed me how to use the gas. I had the choice
of the mouthpiece, or the mask. I chose the mask. I remember she told me to make the
machine rattle…. I made it almost explode J I could feel each contraction coming,
getting harder and lasting longer. When the contraction started, I started sucking gas and
rocking around. The gas removed my sense of time, but left me
aware of the contractions. I could
hear people talking and I could talk back, but I was really in my own world.
At about 4.30
(apparently) I yelled that I needed to push. My contractions were finishing with an
extreme urge to push or should I say, an extreme
urge to do a BIG poo... The
midwives told me that I couldn’t push, to use the gas and breathe through that
urge and that the doctor was on the way. That was hard trying to stop my body doing what it
needed to do. Well- the
doctor looked inside and said, yep, she is ready to go, 10 cm dilated and that
Julia’s head was waiting to come out. I remember thinking- 'I told you so!!'
So then the push
started….
I didn't think about getting off the bed, no-one
suggested I get off the bed. In hindsight, I should've gotten off the bed.
I pushed about 5 times, each
time, moving her slowly further down.
The midwives told me to change my way of pushing. I put my feet on their hips, grabbed
hold of my thighs near my knees, stuck my chin down to my chest and when time
came to push, I remember I roared. It’s funny, while I was roaring, I remember
thinking to myself that I would scare the baby… I pushed so hard, that Julia’s head was
birthed and on the next contraction,
her body followed. What an
exquisite pain it was… She was born
with her right hand beside her head, next to her ear. She was born at 4.57pm,
7lbs 1oz, 52cm long with a head circumference of 32.5cm. And a shock of white blonde hair….
Perfect…
I sustained
4th degree tears, including a
buttonhole, to my perineum, rectum and sphincter…. I guess that
if I could have changed anything, it would have been to not be on my back and to
have controlled my pushing a bit more, to let myself stretch. But as it turned
out, I had too much strength inside me and no-one (including me) knew
that.
I managed to feed her between having an IV line put in and the surgeon poking around to see exactly how badly I had torn. Pretty bad. I was put under a general anaesthetic and had my bottom half sewn back together. I had not only torn the outside, but muscle on the inside… To repair the damage took 25 stitches. Luckily a woman OB did the repair, so the stitches were neat and tidy. I healed really well. I have been doing pelvic floor exercises for 10 odd years. Good for your sex life apparently LOL.. I have no incontinence problems, except that I might fart when laughing hard, coughing hard or in certain yoga poses..
The same woman who sewed me up, also told me at my 6 week check-up that my next baby will be born by caesarean. 'Why?' I asked- Her response was straight to the point. 'Because of the damage done to your perineum and the speed at which you laboured, the chances of retearing and thus needing colo-rectal surgery are just to great to risk...' My jaw actually dropped, I shook my head. She smiled and told me to not worry until I fell pregnant again. I don't believe that what she said is true. I have total faith in my body, I know that the stranded beetle position didn't help at all, and that Julia's hand positioning couldn't have helped... Next time, I want a midwife to guide me... If a midwife suggests that I am high-risk and I need 'definite' major abdominal surgery over 'possible' colo-rectal surgery, I'll trust her... Till then, I'll keep up with my dream of bringing birth back to women...
I love this list. All you women (and occasional man) are lovely, special people. Thank you!!