Family Forum / Parenting / Mothers / August 2003

This was my 11th baby (10th pregnancy) and I was planning an
unassisted homebirth, I already had birthed 6 babies at home
and my last child Seth was also a planned unassisted birth.
I felt, and still do feel, homebirth is the safest birthing
option when things are normal, and an unassisted homebirth
where a womyn tunes into her body and baby to guide her is
safer yet.
Early on in my pregnancy I had a strong suspicion my
placenta was anterior as I didn't feel the baby move until
quite late, this was later confirmed by ultrasound about mid
way through my pregnancy. I wasn't really concerned as I'd
had anterior placentas before, and even though they tended
to encourage my babies to the posterior position (babies
like to face their placenta)
they always turned during labour and birthed without a
problem.
I'd been familiar with fellow New Zealander Jean Sutton's
Optimal foetal positioning theories for sometime. I'd used
her ideas on turning babies with my 4th child (now 10)
during a 36-hour start/stop labour due to a posterior
position and they worked well.
During my pregnancy I had active and painful Rheumatoid
Arthritis flares in my feet that prevented me from doing a
lot of walking and standing. So as I
was sitting a lot I always made sure I had a pillow under my
tailbone to tilt my pelvis and encourage my baby forward. I
made sure my knees were below my hips, and when I was lying
down I'd try and massage the baby around and into a more
anterior position. Despite all this and more she stayed
persistently LOP/LOL (L= Lateral, or back against my left
side). Still I wasn't too worried, I'd been here with quite
a few of my babies and they had
all turned once in active labour. No need to panic I though,
she'll turn when she's ready, and if not plenty of babies
are born face to pubes (posterior), I'd even birthed one of
my twins, an 8lb 8oz face to pubes baby
myself 3 ½ years earlier.
The day before I turned 41 weeks I had a pressing need to go
shopping and fill my pantry, buy those last minute
birth/baby things and have a nice long lunch on my own in a
café. So I spent Sunday doing just that, I bought some more
cloth nappies, some new fluffy towels to catch the baby in,
another wool Singlet (it was mid winter) and thoroughly
enjoyed a relaxed lunch and
savoured a frothy hot chocolate while reading some trashy
womyns gossip magazine..alone :o)
About midnight we decided to go to bed, and while rubbing
away a Braxton Hicks that felt a little more forceful I told
Peter "I think I'm probably going to be having a baby
tomorrow."  I stayed up for another hour just tidying up,
doing my nesting thing, and feeling an urgent need to put
those freshly washed new fluffy towels in the drier. I had
another grippy BH and knew that was an early labour
contraction. I decided I'd better go to bed now and get some
sleep as I'd probably be in labour tomorrow. I'd slept about
an hour when a contraction woke me. I got up and went to the
toilet and discovered a show. I was wide awake now and
contractions were too strong really to sleep through so
Peter went and chopped some more firewood (at 2:30am) and
stoked the fire up more to get the house nice and warm as
I'd
let it die out before I went to bed.
I put my Nora Jones CD on and put some Neroli oil in my
burner, took some homeopathic birth aid, and got my birth
supplies ready. I spent the next few hours peacefully
contracting, moving between the snugly fire lit lounge and
my safe bedroom/birthspace. Things were moving along quite
well and quickly, and by 6:30am I felt that familiar
transition adrenaline rush and pushy
feeling. I took some Rescue Remedy and checked myself, sure
enough there was that hard round head, no cervix, fully open
and ready to go. My membranes
hadn't gone yet and the baby had a small balloon of waters
over it's head, the membranes felt very latexy and thick, I
couldn't feel any sutures or fontanelles through them, but
it didn't concern me as I thought it was just
the membranes and waters obscuring things.
I moved onto my birth mat, kneeled over my beanbag and
waited for the next pushing contraction...and waited...and
waited...and waited. Second stage lull I
though, very common, happened before, don't sweat it, go
with your body.
Half an hour later (about 7:00am) they started up again, but
they weren't lasting very long at all. They seemed strong
enough, but just as I'd get one small push into them the
contraction would be over.
After an hour of this I was starting to get the feeling all
was not quite right. This was my 11th baby, it should just
fall out.well not literally, but it shouldn't take 1 ½ hrs
in second stage, it's never taken me this long, not even
with my first and he was born weighing 10lbs. My babies come
in one or two contractions, not long after that first
pushy/adrenaline feeling. This just wasn't what my body did
in labour. I also was not feeling her move. With Seth he was
just so active in labour, it was very reassuring that
he was ok. I wasn't getting any movement at all from this
baby, no physical feedback. It just didn't feel 'ok' at all.
I checked myself again and that head was still there, while
I was checking a contraction started and my
waters went, finally I got to touch my baby skin to skin. I
stroked that little hard head, felt the crumply little
caput/wrinkle that was forming on the right side and was
spurred on to get this baby born and meet it. Another
hour went by with me trying every position known to womyn
kind to get this baby down, standing, squatting, kneeling,
all fours, swaying, I even spent time on the toilet as I
heard that helps some babies descend.
I was strongly feeling that this baby was stuck, in fact I
knew she was stuck, this just wasn't right. I kept saying
during my contractions  "come on baby, you can do it, come
on baby" but I was clearly hearing this baby
saying it couldn't help me, I had to do it, she couldn't
help herself be born. Even though I felt she was alive I
verbalised to Peter that I thought the baby had died, that's
why she wasn't helping herself be born, that's why
she is stuck, that's why there is no movement, the baby has
died. He said I don't think so dear and rubbed my back, I
knew she hadn't either, but I needed to tell him she
couldn't help me, and I didn't think I could get her
out on my own.
Another ½ hour and with me pushing between contractions now
as well to try and get her out I decided I needed to talk to
someone, it had been 3 hours
now and I knew she was stuck, I knew she needed help getting
out but I needed someone to confirm what I felt. I rang my
midwife friend who I had a casual agreement with through my
pregnancy. She knew I was planning an
Unassisted birth and was very supportive, she visited me a
few times in my pregnancy and made herself available by
phone when ever I needed her.
I told her my concerns and that I was 'thinking' of
transferring into the hospital if she wasn't born soon. She
asked if I wanted her to come up but I didn't think there
was anything she could do for me at home that I couldn't
do myself, she agreed and said to keep in touch and phone if
I changed my mind.
Another 3-4 contractions with no progress and increasing
pain in my back I'd changed my mind. I rang her back and
said she's stuck but I don't want to go
to that hospital. I knew I had to though, I knew she needed
help and this new increasing pain in my lower uterine area,
and her lack of movement told me things had moved away from
normal, I needed to transfer..but for the life of me I
couldn't bring myself to do it.
I phoned her back and we discussed again transferring. I
explained my concern that I would give birth on the way
there knowing my luck. How many stories do you hear of womyn
transferring at the 11th hour and giving birth
in the back of the car or Ambulance, that was not something
I thought was safe or wanted for my baby. She offered to
ring the hospital for me to let them know I may come in, I
made sure she told them I may not either should the baby
come soon.
A few more contractions with still no baby and the phone
rang, it was the hospital. The midwife there wanted to send
an ambulance as my midwife had said 'if' I was coming in we
were driving ourselves, we know our road so much better and
in my experience of getting Ambulances here it takes forever
and they struggle with our narrow windy, country road. I got
the 'Having
your 11th baby at home alone is so dangerous and you and
your baby could die" speech from her and again the ambulance
was strongly advised. After a long silence and mumbling f*ck
f*ck f*ck under my breath I agreed. I hung up the phone and
cried. God f*cking Damn it, why me, why now, why this baby,
how can this happen to ME. Super homebirther of 9,10 and
11lb babies,
transferring to hospital with a stuck baby, the humiliation.
As expected the ambulance took forever, with each
contraction I had before it got there, I willed that baby
out of me with all my worth. Please, please, please come out
now before it gets here. Too late I heard the sirens
coming, my heart sank. I still hadn't even got anything
together to take into the hospital. All I could think to
take was my big bean bag to hug. The sirens came...and went.
They had drove right past our house. I sat in the
lounge ridding another massive contraction ripping my back
apart, and watched as the ambulance drove back...and past
the house again. Oh good lord,
good job no one was dieing or anything. In the end I walked
up my driveway to the roadside, swearing to kill the
ambulance driver with my own two hands if I had this baby
outside in the rain on my driveway, and waited until he
drove back. Finally he arrived, but then he wanted to ask me
a million questions, 'when did labour start' 'what number
baby is this' 'How old are you'. I put my best demonic voice
on and said 'just get to the hospital
already'. His last question was 'Why did you leave it so
long', I just stared perplexedly at him and said "because I
thought the baby would come"...duh. I don't think he
realised this was a planned homebirth. I later read
in my notes when the midwife had called dispatch she had
told them to 'tactfully' try and site an IV cannula too,
good job for him he didn't or he  would of needed an
ambulance, I think he sensed this and with sirens and
lights blazing he left for the hospital with my Peter
following in our car.
The drive was torture. Each corner, and we live on a very
windy country road, would bring on a contraction that would
rip my back apart. I wish we'd drove ourselves, Peter is a
much better, faster and safer driver, knows the road like
the back of his hand, and the car doesn't throw me around as
much as that trampoline on wheels did. As we entered town
he pulled over on the
side of the road, and a second sirens a blazing ambulance
pulls up behind us. "What are you doing" I asked, "keep
going to the hospital". I thought
they had decided to stop and try and catch my baby on the
side of the road. It turns out he was picking up ambulance
#2's driver up so he could sit in the back with me. He was
concerned at the strength of my 2-3 minute apart
contractions and thought he might be doing some baby
catching, plus he said the other guy was a better driver.
The rest of the drive was even worse, better driver my arse.
It was raining and this moron was speeding at over 165km an
hour down the motorway with my husband trying to keep up. I
told him more than once to slow down, to which he replied
we're only allowed to go a little above the speed limit
(100km), we're not going that fast. My husband had to do
165km to keep up with them, and still couldn't. He lost them
at a set of lights that they ran when red. They so
endangered my life.
Finally we arrived at the hospital at about 11:00am and was
greeted with a wheelchair, now I was to become a patient. No
longer a womyn having a baby, but a sick person requiring a
hospital and wheelchair. I buried my head in my hands and
hid my face as they wheeled me to the delivery suit. This
was not the plan, what had gone wrong. Why was my body
failing me.
The first words I heard when I arrived were "She's not
booked", like it was the crime of the century. After more
questions the midwife asked if she could assess the baby and
do a tracing. I could not lay down for an abdominal palp
because of the severe pain it caused my back, but I tried,
being the good girl that I am. I got the distinct impression
though that the midwife thought I was being difficult. The
on call OB came in and asked more
questions. I told him I'd been fully dilated since 6:30am
and he asked how I knew. "I examined myself" I said, a blank
look came over his face. "Are you
a doctor?" he asked. "No" said I." A Nurse?" No. "A
Midwife?" No. "Then how do you know this" he asked? "Well
it's not rocket science" I replied. Peter was getting pretty
shitty at his arrogance now too and said "Look Mate by the
time you get to #11 you become pretty good at knowing these
things". The OB didn't reply and asked to do a VE. I was in
so much pain I said no. He
got all huffy and I told him the midwife had just done all
this ask her for the info she got. The midwife then flapped
that she couldn't feel anything in my pelvis and wasn't sure
what position the baby was in. So I tried to
lay back and let him do a horrid VE, the pain was
unbearable, I told him to stop.... He didn't "Get out now" I
yelled "Get out, Get out". It felt like he was digging for
potatoes, it was agony, clawing away inside me, digging
around my baby's head like that to feel how she was
positioned, it was awful. He said he couldn't get a good
feel of the baby and really needed me to lay back and let
him try again.
The thought of going through that again was too much. I
asked for an epidural. If he wanted to dig for gold inside
my pelvis I needed some pain relief. I needed some pain
relief anyway. It was now 11:30 and I'd been
pushing for 5 hours, my back was ready to spit open, and the
pain was beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my lower
uterus too, I was tired and I knew
I was going to need some assistance, probably ventouse so I
wanted an epidural. He said no...the bastard. He didn't
think that was the best thing and wanted me to have some Gas
to relax and lay back again for him to
examine me. I told him I'd had a light epi with my twins
birth and it was great, it took the pain out of my uterine
area for an internal version yet I could still walk and push
with full feeling. The perfect solution I thought.
I also thought I might be able to push better and deeper if
I could remove that pain from my back and get her out on my
own. He again advised against it. I told them I was
officially requesting an epidural. They said I could
request all I liked but it wasn't that simple. I needed to
be fully assessed for presentation and position first, and a
drip had to be put in. Between contractions I let him try
again to do a VE while I sucked on the NO2, he
wrote his dx in my notes as:
Fundus=38, Cephalic, 2/5, VE=Cx fully dilated, OP, 1cm
(arrow down) spines, no caput moulding, CTG=Reactive
I had my IV inserted and around 12:00 midday the
anaesthetist came to insert an epidural...20 minutes later
my contractions were still every 3 or so minutes and very
strong, it hadn't worked. The anaesthetist was called back
to give me a top up, again it didn't work.. This was turning
into a disaster, I was in so much pain and my baby was not
budging, she was also starting to now have early
decelerations because of my prolonged and very strong second
stage contractions. A new OB was called, I liked this one
much better, he was a little more respectful and seemed
rather more competent
than the other one. I climbed back on that horrid bed and
endured another VE. Verdict from this OB was: Station -1, OP
to OT, Fully dilated, clear Liquor.
We made a plan to move to theatre and have a spinal as the
epidurals were not working, thoroughly assess the baby's
position and see what would be the best way to help her out.
He wanted to help her out vaginally but we
discussed the high possibility if they fail I would need a
c/section.
And so it began. I was prepped for theatre, and moved to the
receiving bay, contracting all the way. I had the spinal
sited at 1:30pm and when it had taken full effect I was able
to have a deep VE to find out what was holding
this baby back. She was indeed stuck, she had entered the
pelvis sideways and was stuck in deep transverse arrest. The
surgeon said it was not wise to use forceps or ventouse, not
because his skills were shoddy but because of her position,
they would have been too dangerous to use. She needed to be
born via LSCS. I agreed and she was finally born at 1:41pm,
7 hours after I first started pushing.
The OB held her up to me and said here she is. She? She? I
thought I was having a boy, I was so sure I was having a
boy. How can this be a she, check again. Yup it was a she, a
beautiful, chubby, perfect she baby. After a kiss and a
cudle Peter got to hold her while I was stitched back up.
Unfortunately for me there was a complication during the
surgery. The lower segment of my uterus had become very thin
from the prolonged strong second stage contractions, and as
the baby was born it tore extensively along the left side
and I lost more blood than I should have due to this. The
repair seemed to go on forever, I could feel all this
pressure and tugging in my
chest. I started to heave, a side effect of the morphine I
was told. Oh joy.
I was given the first of my transfusions in recovery when my
post-operative hb was found to be only 60.
The next 4 day's in hospital were an emotional and physical
roller coaster. I battled with all the questions of why it
had gone the way it did, why did she get stuck, why her, why
me, what went wrong. I don't think I'll ever
have an answer, sometimes what is just is and you have to
accept it. I am sure I made the right decision though. I
listened to my body and my baby and I made the decisions I
felt were right for us, they weren't decisions I
liked or wanted, but they were the right ones based on my
intuition. I can't be 100% sure what would of happened if
I'd chosen not to transfer and kept
on contracting with an obstructed labour, but knowing how
thin my uterus had become due to an obstructed labour I am
pretty sure it would of ruptured before I birthed Lydia, if
I ever managed to all.
I'm sad for the birth I lost, but I'm not regretful for the
birth I had. I have learnt and grown so much from my
experience. At first I was angry with my body for failing
me, but I realise now it didn't fail me it saved me. I
listened to it's signals, it's change in pain, it's response
and I acted on it. My body isn't a failure, it's an amazing
succuss  :o)

--
Andrea
Mum to...
Rhys (15) Jayden (13) Tessa (12)
Tyler (10) Paige (9) Grace (7)
Zachary (5) Rose (3) Amelia (3)
Seth (21 mths) and Lydia (5 weeks!)