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!!