The birth story series. Part 1.

I’ve come through it. It’s over, never to be repeated again. Thank God!
Birth number 2 is over with, and now I have a lifetime of enjoying our second daughter, Willow Alannah Hamilton.

I start out the birth story this way just to try to warn you. This is not a pretty piece of writing. 10 days into her little life and I’m already forgetting the sheer overwhelming ‘sensations’ of birth. Stupid hormones! No wonder we do this multiple times. We can thank God for his creation of oxytocin and other such blissful hormones created for us women in abundance during and following labour. Because I know that if I ever remembered the pain fully, then I’d definitely be reconsidering my “4 children, no less” policy that Craig is warming to. But I write this as a reminder to myself for next time to NEVER attempt this again without the most potent form of permissible drug administered by hospital staff and known to man.

See, my other two friends who birthed their second children just recently had some pretty decent birth experiences, as far as births go, anyway. So I was allowing myself to be hopeful, which is really all you can resign yourself to anyway, given that your body is again going to be thrown into the unrelenting and ever increasing pains of birth.

Unfortunately, even though this second child came faster than Avalon (8 instead of 16 hours of full-on labour) it was just as hard, and I think just as painful.

So- here’s the story from the start.

The days leading up to the birth were really difficult to live with. I felt as though my body was slowly shutting itself down, and with an active toddler now in my life, I felt that if Willow didn’t arrive soon, Craig would be off from work anyway, and I’d need bedrest until her arrival. My pelvis was in constant pain and my hip joints the same. I would get up from sitting down for no more than 5 minutes, and just breathe through the pain in my joints. Even though it was painful to stand, it was almost not worth having a rest to sit down, because of the agony that followed.

So I made a bold move. At my 39 week, 6 day appointment, I asked to be given a ‘cervical sweep’. This procedure was known to trigger labour by releasing natural hormones into your body to start it off. I won't go into details...

The midwife looked at me like I was crazy, but I begged her really and said that it worked for a friend of mine, and that I was in so much pain now, with constant prelabour and now this pelvis thing, that I wanted this precious gift out NOW (please). This was crazy painful for me, and I had to ask Craig to take the rest of the day off work, because I was useless to look after Avalon. I just wanted to collapse in a heap and moan softly to myself in self pity. Which I totally would have done, if I wasn't such a proud person.

The birth story series. Part 2.

It was 7am the following morning that my waters broke. No huge gush, but definitely unmistakenably, my waters broke. Every time I changed sitting position, I would gush again. It was more comfortable now to remain as upright as possible. I couldn’t have had a little “sleep” without flooding our bed, so, this was the most sleep I was now going to have until the baby arrived. And I got 2 ½ hours of it in between painful contractions that night, so I was already running on vapours.

We called my parents, and they came to look after Avalon. The morning was filled with me doing last minute cleaning and hospital bag packing, and Avalon squealing with delight at my parent’s play. I wish I could have stayed there until the birth itself. Unfortunately, I had a strep b infection, which 20% of women have, and it causes no harm to us, but to an unborn child can kill them if antibiotics are not administered throughout the labour. I’m just one of these unlucky women whose waters break at the start of labour instead of in the heat of the action.

So upon calling the hospital, I still had to be admitted even though labour hadn’t properly started. My contractions were 10-15 apart, some intense, some unnoticeable. This was prelabour. Again. Avy’s prelabour lasted 31 hours. I prayed for a faster one this time, and God was merciful. Only 16 hours with Willow!

I was cannulated, injected a couple of times with antibiotics, and left to my own devices to get this labour happening. We spent our time equally reading books, walking stairs and staying active to try to get the show on the road. Nothing exhausting, but enough just to jiggle this bub into the right position if something wasn’t aligned properly.

Craig was sent home once visiting hours were over for an early night, and I had a sleepless night ahead of me. Craig was woken at 11pm that night by a phonecall.

“Craig, it’s started”

“Oh ok, should I come now?”

The midwives didn’t believe me that labour had started. They’d told me to have a shower. I was all emotional. I wanted Craig with me, and I didn’t want to birth this baby alone in the shower. I’ve heard storied of how fast it can all happen, and having only 16 months between births, you just never know what your body’s going to do second time round.

“They won’t send me to labour ward. I don’t think they believe me. But I need you here, they’re really painful to get through without massage.”

Craig reassured me it’d be ok, to have the shower and then tell them again.

So I did. Instead of the shower helping them, they were now 8 minutes apart and QUITE painful. I had to breathe through the wave and use all my techniques I’d learnt to cope without collapsing in a heap.

The midwives finally listened to me, and one of them came to time them. By this time, they were now 5 minutes apart and growing in intensity with every one.

They told me to pack up, they were moving me down to the birthing suites.

Finally! How do you convince someone that you’re really labouring, when you’re not screaming in agony but breathing through the contractions? To an outsider, I must have looked too calm, so she dismissed me. I forgive her, even though at the time, this midwife was my mortal enemy, a barrier between myself and craig being together at this birth.

They transferred me to a lovely big room at about 12.30am Easter Saturday, so I called Craig again and told him to tally ho over, that we were now ready. He called my doula (birth assistant) on the way, and Willow was to be born that morning.