Eliza's Birth Story

It has been a while since we posted a birth story. Birth stories can be such powerful things to read, in particular when you are expecting yourself. Eliza's birth story is beautiful. A good reminder of how strong and powerful we are and a very realistic description of entering into a 'flow state' of labour. Eliza's birth reminds us that whilst we may have our own plans or preferences for birth, our babies may decide not to read those plans! A different route is not always a negative one though. Thank you Eliza for your beautiful and thoughtful words. Eliza writes;

As my little girl’s first birthday approaches, how she came into the world seems both inherent to her being and disconnected from who she is today. Birth is so seminal in many ways, but it is also one tiny piece of the journey. I had a blessedly straightforward pregnancy, and I was doing yoga and weightlifting until my 39th week, although I had had to give up running at five months. My plan for birth was pretty vague - I had packed speakers to play sound baths, decided no epidural, and instructed my husband to treat me as if I were on a rugby team and he was the coach. Soft, encouraging back rubs and gentle

encouragement aren’t for me. He’s a doctor, so I also said that I wanted nobody he knew or worked with to be involved in the birth. But other than that, I was ready to go with whatever came.

In the weeks leading up to birth, I had been waking up around 5am to what I now think were

prodromal contractions - not Braxton Hicks. They were actual contractions, but maybe one or two and then they would stop. Two days after my due date, these started again but didn’t stop. Around 9am, I had a bloody show, so I knew we were in business. We had the loveliest morning at home whilst things ramped up. We polished off a whole box of Ben’s Cookies, played games, did jigsaws and watched some tv. My parents were there, and aside from the contractions, it felt like we were just spending a normal family Sunday together. Around 12pm, the contractions were close enough together that my contraction app said to phone the hospital. We were advised to go to St Johns, not the Royal, so my husband, mum and I set off.

When we arrived, I was only 2cm dilated, despite the closeness of the contractions. The department was not busy, so the staff said we could stay for a couple more hours without being admitted. If I hadn't progressed enough in a few hours, they would send us home. I will say this was the only time in the whole process that I really felt panicked. The thought of driving home and then having to come back was daunting. Luckily, things progressed quite quickly, and I was beyond relieved when they examined me two hours later and I was 6cm along. My waters also broke in this examination. I was admitted, given some gas and air, and they started monitoring (not continuous). Looking back, it was around this time that they started asking me repeatedly where I felt the pain, and whether I was feeling it in my back (no, I’m feeling it absolutely everywhere!). I realised after that this was probably when they started to wonder if the baby was back to back, but nothing was mentioned to that effect at that point.

Labour progressed until around 2am when they said that I had been 10cm dilated for so long, I should just try pushing even though I didn’t feel the need. I pushed for 1.5 hours but although they could see the head, she wasn’t coming out. At this point I was also semi-delirious, talking to my husband about apple varieties and saying that I felt like a trap-door had closed and we didn’t have the key to let the baby out. During this time, the midwives were monitoring the baby’s heartbeat every 15 minutes. That progressed to them placing a continuous monitor on my belly. Around 3:30am, the midwives said it was time to get a doctor. It was clear that no matter how hard or how long I was pushing, baby wasn’t coming out. Contractions were also 30 seconds apart, and I was getting really, really tired. I felt like I couldn’t have a break before the next one came. The registrar came in and said they were concerned that the baby was stuck, and that we would need to try forceps, and if that was unsuccessful, a c-section. I asked whether we could just go straight to a c-section, but she advised that baby was already too far down for that to be the first option. My husband and I went through to theatre, and of course, my husband and the obstetrician knew each from university. I had to get over that pretty quickly, since it was 5am and we clearly could not

have anyone else. She was wonderful - I should not have worried about it being weird.

We had some issues finding veins and had a couple tries to get the spinal anaesthesia in, but I mostly just remember a wonderful nurse with a shaved head trying to put up my hair for me, and another nurse telling me all about his five cats. It was surreal being in a brightly lit, crowded theatre after hours of labour in a quiet, low-lit room with the midwives. But it was not unpleasant - it felt controlled and I felt safe.

I will say, I think my husband found this next part much more traumatic than me. They tried to turn her but she was too far down and really stuck. They also confirmed she was back to back and what they call “stargazing”. They advised us that we would need to do a section. My husband was overhearing various contingency plans for if she was stuck, and none of them sounded like something he wanted baby or I to go through. In the end, she came out just fine and she was whisked away to be checked whilst I was sewed up. I didn’t feel traumatised to not be holding her straight away. In fact, I remember feeling happy about her dad having those early moments together with her. He came back carrying her and I got to see her; we got a photo together and then I went through to the recovery room. I tried

to breastfeed there because I was so worried about establishing breastfeeding early. In retrospect, this can wait until you are back in your delivery room!

As soon as we were back in the delivery room, I had a hunger like I have never felt before. The midwives made us a huge, lovely pile of toast and butter and brought tea. It was wonderful. It felt like the last 24 hours had been a really intense dream, and now she was here. My husband, mum and I all got skin to skin time with her, and it all felt very calm and relaxed.

A couple of reflections:

● My personal experience of a non-epidural birth is that nothing is going to distract you from it. Speakers, constellation machines (hospital provided!), tens machines, music, massage, counter pressure, birth ball, aromatherapy, carefully selected sweets and drinks all fell by the wayside. By all means prepare and bring them, but you may enter this flow state where none of this helps or is wanted. Your partner, however, may enjoy some food.

● I remember really clearly looking down into my baby’s face when she was swaddled in the

ward and thinking, “I love you, but I don’t know you” and finding that quite odd - like being

emotionally bonded to a stranger. I never felt disassociated from her, and I felt bonded from

the beginning; but I distinctly remember the feeling that she was her own person to get to

know. Those first couple weeks, that feeling stayed. Like we were this team, figuring things

and each other out as we went.

● Breastfeeding was downright torture for me for the first three weeks. Two days post-partum, I said it was worse than labour, whilst I was expressing into a teaspoon and sobbing on my baby’s head. I got lactation consultants, I got nipple shields; I spoke to midwives and health visitors; and I pumped exclusively for two of the first three weeks. Nobody was ever able to pinpoint what was actually wrong. But with nipple shields and time, it improved vastly; and I am still breastfeeding now. If breastfeeding is awful for you, you 100% can give up. If you feel compelled to continue anyway, it may get better. Use the shields, even if people tell you there might be repercussions. Pump and bottle feed and go back to breastfeeding later if that works for you. But just because it is soul-destroying to begin with, doesn’t mean it will necessarily continue to be.

● I didn’t feel foggy or groggy from the spinal. I also didn’t and still don’t feel traumatised by

what had just happened. I didn’t feel a dissociation from my previous self - or that there has

been the birth of a new self. I feel the need to say this because I was extremely worried about this beforehand. I had spent a long time getting to the point where I liked who I was, and I wasn’t that keen on feeling like a new person overnight. I still feel the same, ten months down the line. I am me, but with a baby.

Thank you Eliza. If you would like to share your birth story then please do get in touch. We love to hear all stories. Equally, Hailey and I are always around if you feel you want to chat things through with us. We welcome everyone at our monthly No Sleep Club too, a monthly postnatal catch up with plenty of space and time to reflect on birth and parenting.