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!!