The birth story series. Part 6.

The hallucinations changed at points, sometimes the white was only around the gas mask covering my mouth, and sometimes I visualised the white radiating around my back like I was having an outer body experience. All I knew was, that if I chased the light, the pain didn’t overtake me and I could keep surviving. I wanted to survive. I wanted to see my baby and not leave Craig alone with two children (yes- I had these thoughts during the labour somehow while still hallucinating on the gas. My mind just doesn’t ever want to shut down completely!)

But several times, I’m ashamed to say, I did stop chasing the light, and I let the darkness black out my dreams, because I wanted to be dead. I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore and I would stop fighting to survive. What happened at these points must have been that I sucked so hard on the gas that I passed out briefly, only to be jolted back to reality in the peak of the contraction, fully aware that this "sensation" was in fact, the pain of birth.

Then there was a lull. Contractions changed instantly to be less painful. They were there, but something different was happening. It was birthing time.

My body had a brief rest. I remember wishing it was all over because I was totally ready to go to sleep by then. I'd had enough. And I think my body knew that. It gave me about an hour of 'rest' where I just recovered and lay over my birth ball with only small urges to push her out. I put in a minimal amount of effort here. They may have even checked me somewhere and given me the green light to push. But I wasn't ready. I needed a break.

When my bodily urges kicked in hard enough to give her the heave-ho outta me, I welcomed them. But I didn’t want anyone screaming “push” at me like last time. So, I wrote in my birth plan for the midwives to leave me to my own devices. Let my body get her out on it’s own.

What I learnt from this is that my body takes A LOT OF TIME! What should have been only 15 minutes of pushing was actually just under 2 hours. (I checked the midwives notes later). I just waited until I was entirely at the mercy of my body to force her out. The 2 hours noted must have included that recovery time part, I think.

But psychologically, it felt good. At least if I was destroying myself, it was through no decision of my own...

The pain felt better too. It was a tangible pain. Contractions are all internal pain. This new pain was like a pin prick- external pain. It was truer, more real pain. And, who knows why, but I preferred this pain to contraction pain. And I didn’t need or want the gas during this time. Many, many, many efforts later, but mainly from the force of my own body's will, my second girl was born.

And so, Willow Alannah welcomed Craig and I at 7.38am Easter Saturday. She arrived with her hand curled up beside her head and as she was awkwardly passed through my legs to me by my midwife, Wills let out a hearty cry. I looked at her and said "hi", and informed her that she was a hell of a lot of work, but that it’s all over now. I think I was consoling myself more than her. She just looked like she was grumpy from being been woken up from a nice dream. Craig and I looked at eachother for the first time since the birth began and beamed relieved smiles at one another. Praise God that we only birth them once!