Apparently there is an old wives tale that says if you get a cold close to the end of your pregnancy, the birth of your baby is days away. Well… this is how my story goes:
During the months leading up to my due date, we had been doing a renovation and building project at our home. As with most projects of this nature we had fallen a bit behind schedule, but the end was near. If all went well, we would have a few days of rest before the estimated date of our boys arrival – which was 15 August. I was going to learn fast that with babies things rarely go as planned…..
02 August…..sniff, sniff, cough… I had developed a slight head cold and was battling with a sore throat and stuffiness. We had the last jobs finishing the next day or two and my husband said I was to rest and he would be overseeing it. That Saturday (04 August), just as the last contractor was leaving, some family come over to visit. Thereafter my husband and I ate Thai food for dinner and decided to make it an early night and head to bed at… wait for it… 8pm!!!! Little did we know…..
I will take a pause in my story to let you know that I am an expert planner, coordinator and project manager. I schedule everything! Considering my birth plan I realised that I would not know the exact time of my boys arrival. It gave me great joy to know that only our little boy and God would know the exact date and time of his birth.
5 August.….I sprung a leak! Early in the morning just before 4am I was woken by the sensation that I was wetting myself in bed. I pinched my thighs together and swung my body out of bed (as best as a 38 week pregnant lady weighing close to 100kg could do). I waddled over to the bathroom while trying to gently tell my half asleep husband that I think my water had broken!! It was rather amazing how calmly the next few moments played out:
- I went to the loo (obviously)
- I suggested my husband get into the shower while I make the necessary calls to our Doula and the Hospital
- I showered
- We grabbed our bags and the box with the car seat – yes we hadn’t gotten to installing this yet….and out the door went
The hospital was expecting me and our Doula would be on route soon.
Here is another good moment to interject in my story to say these two things: Doulas are amazing. Read up on them and consider having one be part of your birthing experience. It really takes the pressure off of you and your partner and enhances the experience for both of you. They carry your vision for your birth and in the moment where emotions and fears are high – they remind you of what the vision is.
Also, generally speaking, once your water has broken you do have time to clean up before heading to the hospital – especially if there are no contractions – so take a deep breath and remain calm. It is not like we see in the movies.
Hospital trip take one….. We headed off to the hospital and said prayers of thanks to God. We felt such peace – it was just perfect that we were off to the hospital so early. No traffic. No stress. Just peace. YAY!When we got to the hospital (we opted to birth our baby at a midwife run hospital), I was hooked up to some monitoring equipment and then told that they would monitor the baby and I for 30mins. If all was fine and the contractions had not started, I could head back home and come in once my contractions started; or latest within 12hrs as they would induce labour by 4pm. Huh!? Talk about an anti-climax. So my husband and I (and all our boxes and bags and exercise ball in tow), headed back home.
We got back home around 6am and decided to get into bed with some tea and toast; call our parents to let them know my waters had broken; watch a show and get some sleep. Nothing more we could do really….
It starts…. At exactly 11h01 I felt my first contraction. Our Doula was kept updated throughout and we agreed that I would let her know when she needed to come over to my home to assist me. The grannies came over with lunch and we all sat around the table, ate and chatted excitedly about meeting our little guy. I had two very intense contractions between 13h00 and 13h30, so I sent our Doula a text please come and went to lay down.
My dear husband was doing his best to remain calm. From time to time (it felt like every other minute) he would look at my with compassion and ask “is it time to go to the hospital yet?”. I kept reassuring him that I would let him know in good time. I cannot imagine how helpless he must have felt.
Our Doula arrived…. Our Doula arrived around 14h30 and I was still in bed. Apparently I was still very chipper between my contractions, but could not talk through them at all. The Doula wrote this in her report “All of a sudden, your surges became more intense. I asked if you wanted to get up out of bed and move around for a bit, giving me more access to your back. You tried, but couldn’t get up out of the bed. That’s when I asked if you wanted to go in to the hospital. You asked me what I thought and I mouthed to Anton that I think we should go. So we got you up and out of bed and off we went.”
Wheel me into the maternity ward…. The ride to the hospital was a blur. I just remember being in pain. I was wedged in the back seat between the (now installed) infant seat and our sweet Doula, who was somehow contorted into the space next to me so that she could get to my lower back. My darling husband was doing his best to calmly get us to the hospital QUICKLY! We arrived at the hospital around 15h30, and while hubby went to park the car our Doula asked for a wheelchair. No way this mamma was walking.
The midwives started monitoring my surges and baby’s heart rate. At around 16h00 I was examined and found to be 5cm dilated and 7cm on a contraction! WOWEE!!
It is here where I need to step in and comment on a birth plan. In my opinion – HAVE ONE! Research your options. Read birth stories. Envisage how you would like your birth experience to be. Write it down. Make copies for everyone who will be present at the birth. Get your head in the game as you prepare for the big event….. and then when you are in the moment JUST SURRENDER! Know what is important to you and fundamental to your birth experience, and then know that in the moment YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR MIND ABOUT ALL OF IT. I laugh now when I think how the only part of my plan that actually worked out was – deliver the baby. OK back to my labour…..
The midwife provided me with a warm beanbag for my abdomen, our Doula had one for my lower back. The warm, cosy feeling was HEAVENLY! I breathed slow and steady. Dad-to-be was there encouraging me so beautifully. I swayed on a ball with my upper body leaning over the bed and had a beautiful worship song playing in the background; and for about three minutes I was completely relaxed.
Time for the gas… The contractions were intensifying and I was offered some gas, which I gladly took. I moved onto the bed with my husband close beside me and I sucked that gas mask like a champ! There were moments between those intense surges when I would look at our Doula and tell her that I just couldn’t do this anymore, but she kept encouraging me. That gas was wonderful. It just took the edge off the pain and allowed me moments of feeling super relaxed…… so much so that when I was told that my mom was in reception, I advised the midwife that she could come inside.
Uh-hum… this was NOT part of my birth plan. My mom knew that I preferred she not be in the room when I was in active labour. However, this was the birth of her first grandson and there was no way this fiery woman I call mommy was staying at home. She arrived at the hospital with the intention of waiting in reception until our little baby was here. I love how there is always a plan that is greater than our own. I was so out of it (exhausted and “smooshy” from the gas) that I not only invited her in to the room while I was in active labour, but I ordered her to sit in a very specific chair. Without realising it – I had given her a birds eye view to the birth of her very first grandchild. She sat there not saying a word (which she will tell you took all of her focus and self-control), and she got to see her grandson enter the world. OK, so where were we?! Oh yes, the gas.
Even though the gas was helping, I was still experiencing ever-increasing pain. I am no super woman. I do not like pain or discomfort – so if I was going to see this plan through and get this baby out without medication for the pain – I was going to need God’s help. I was praying. Deep in my spirit I was crying out to God for help and strength. In a beautiful moment of clarity I heard God speak to me. I turned to look at the Doula, who was standing by my side holding my hand. I said to her “I swear I just heard the voice of God. I just heard God saying ‘I will sustain you’ ”. And just like that I was ready to push.
PUSH!!!!! It was about 18h00 when I first felt the strong urge to start pushing. The midwife examined me and advised that if I was ready I could start pushing, but that the baby’s head was still quite high. I was ready!! I tried to push sitting upright for about 30 minutes, and then I got tired so we decided that perhaps changing my position would help. I got up on all fours leaning on my husband for support. He kept on encouraging me, telling me over and over again that I could do it this. I tried pushing while being upright on my knees, but I was running out of steam fast. I was audibly saying “Help me, Jesus.” And in response the Doula would say “He will sustain you.”
At this point I was beyond exhausted. I recall turning to the midwife and grabbing her arm saying that I needed the OBGYN to come and take the baby out. She agreed to call the doctor and suggested that I rest a bit. I was given the gas mask again and my husband assist me to turn onto my side. I kept asking the midwife when the doctor was going to arrive and at one point I had such a strong contraction, I swear I thought I was going to split in two. I shouted at the midwife that the baby was coming, but after she examined me she gently told me that he wasn’t here just yet. My husband kept on telling me that I could do this, that he was proud of me and that I was doing great, but all I kept thinking was I couldn’t do this anymore!
Enter the OBGYN…and our little baby boy. The moment the doctor walked into the room, I firmly declared again that I wanted her to cut the baby out. She was so cool, calm and collected. She told me that she wanted to examine me. I lay on my back with my head on my husband’s chest. She took her position. To me she looked like that dude that stands outside of the scrum in a rugby match, waiting the catch the ball as it gets released. After a few moment she advised that the baby’s chin kept moving forward and it was causing him to get a little stuck, so she needed to assist in adjusting his head a little. I kept telling her that I wanted a C-section. She gently advised that we would try using the “suction thingy” (my words not hers) that attaches to the baby’s head so that she could help get the baby out. I was not keen on another push, but my doctor assured me that she had the theatre on standby and I just needed to try one more time so that we could attempt to get this baby out the way I hoped. In hindsight I think she was bluffing about the theatre.
To all the mommies-to-be reading this – you have no idea the value in having a doctor that is with you in reaching your birthing goals. Those words will forever stay in my heart…. “let’s get the baby out the way you hoped”
The contractions were becoming more spaced, but a lot more intense. I was advised that I should rest while I could, because with the next contraction I was going to have to push with all my might. As I felt that surge rising around my lower belly and back, I actually started to whimper. I was so tired and it was so painful. It was here that I believe I got supernatural strength because as the pain grew and with it the urge to push, I bit down and I pushed and I pushed for what felt like minutes. I have no idea how long the contraction lasted or if I pushed through two of them, but I gave it my all. I felt what can only be explained as a “pop” and then a “squish”; and just like that the doctor looked at me and smiled. My baby was born.
At 19h27 on 05 August 2018 I roared our beautiful little baby boy out into the world. He was perfect weighing a healthy 3.45kgs!
I was exhausted. I didn’t feel that overwhelming emotional state that you see on TV shows. However, I was overjoyed at the sound of my little guy’s loud cry. The new daddy was moved to tears. He leaned over to the baby lying on my chest and cut the umbilical cord.
The aftermath….and the Doula. Now we still had to get that placenta out. Fortunately the OBGYN took care of that. I could just stay in position and wait. My legs were like jelly, I was completely worn out and the bed was a mess. Our little boy was relaxing on my chest holding his daddy’s thumb. It was a precious moment. My mom came over to meet the newest love of her life. We were all smiles and twinkly eyes. I got a few stitches, nothing too serious. Then my husband and the midwife took our boy to be weighed, measured and given his Vitamin K shot; I just wanted to shower.
Now here is where the Doula was worth her weight in gold.
I was offered a new room. Our Doula assisted me to get up from the bed that I had given birth on; she walked me across the hall to my new room; she helped me undress and get into the shower; she stood there and watched over me as I got cleaned up; she draped a clean towel over me and since I could not bend over she assisted in drying my legs and feet. Such a beautiful picture of a servant. She helped me get dressed and then guided me to my new bed with the fresh, clean sheets. Waiting for me there was my husband and my new baby boy. Our Doula stayed with us till well after 21h00 – assisting with the breastfeeding and ensuring that our meals were delivered so that we too could eat.
Eventually it was just the three of us…. Getting to know each other… Discovering what it means to be together…. Happy and content…. Just the three of us.