What labouring in water looks like when not in a contraction...
In prep for labour, with all the problems with my hips, I had always felt that just as long as I could get into that birthing pool I'd be ok. I was so mistaken. Getting into the pool did help marginally, but it didn't magically make the contractions not sore. It did seem to make the contractions more regular though, which was both a blessing and a curse. It took less than a half hour in the pool before I was begging my Midwife for the gas. The gas was not my friend. It was really loud to inhale and just made me feel shaky and distracted from the task at hand.
Sadly, my Midwife Justine had to leave around 5pm and pass me on to her birthing partner Vanessa. I was supposed to have my first appointment with Vanessa on Monday, so I was very glad that despite having not met her, I felt totally fine with her during an embarrassing, personal and intense time. I felt so bad for Murray. I didn't feel like being touched, and all his helpful talk, the 'just focus on this contraction and your breathing' just earned him a grumpier wife. I found Vanessa a good distraction as we could talk deadlines, statistics, facts and other things that calmed me down. We did find a job for Murray though, which was 'get Hannah a cool flannel and feed her water'. Once that job was established, he seemed a lot less at a loose end.
Things very quickly got to the point where I was begging for an epidural. My labour team were saying 'be logical' and I said that I was - there was no way I could cope with the pain of natural birth any more therefore an epidural was a logical solution. I was exhausted by the contractions and lack of sleep over the previous few days, and was losing the plot. Vanessa said we could do an internal to see how far along I was to determine if an epidural was a good option. I said yes please. Getting out of the birthing pool was absolute agony, but if I had some sort of time-frame then I knew I'd be able to cope better. I was 9cm dilated - only 1cm away from being able to push. I had managed to dilate from 4cm to 9cm in just an hour and a half. Bloody awesome work. I knew that pool would work!
Murray and I were both expecting Vanessa to tell us that I was only 5cm dilated and I would cry and ask for an epidural again, so we were both so relieved. She said I could probably start pushing in about 20 minutes. She said there was no point in an epidural at this stage, and I agreed - I knew it would just extend the labour. Less than 15 minutes later I felt this huge pressure on my tailbone area, and the urge to push - like when you have a really bad stomach bug and have no control over your bowels cramping. This meant I could start pushing.
Even though I'd imagined that pushing would be the worst, most painful part, like everyone had told me, it's not. The part I'd experienced just before (transition), was. Pushing hurts, but you have a focal point throughout - trying to get the baby out. Pushing is also the most embarrassing part of labour - it's usually the part where you shit yourself. Even though I'm not a prude, I couldn't even labour nude (I mostly laboured as pictured above) - the idea of shitting myself was terrifying. And what's worse, is that for me, I could feel it happening. I apologised when the two very small pieces of faecal matter came out. It was scooped out with a small net so I never saw it, but I knew it had happened, and that two people had just witnessed me defecating at close range. Why people want a big labour 'team' I'll never understand.
After almost an hour of pushing I could (this is gross) put my finger one knuckle into my vagina and feel the baby's head. At this stage, I was sure there wasn't much further to go. Vanessa said it can be tough getting the baby's head 'around the corner' (the pubic bone), so we might have a way to go yet. After a while of pushing, they could see the top of the head, and that head then getting 'sucked' back in. She had lots of dark hair! What an inspiration to push! But every time I got close our hopes were dashed as her head went back to where it was. During this, I was squatting with my head leaned against the edge of the bath. Murray was cooling my forehead and feeding me water. It was like the grossest team sport ever. I was so glad we had really low lighting in that room. At this stage I named our baby. I had wanted to wait until she was born to name her, but given how stubborn she was proving, I knew exactly which of our favourite names suited her best.
Soon Vanessa said we should move from the pool to another position/place as the water might actually be slowing the progress of the labour down. It took a while to convince me of this. Moving when in labour is a terrifying idea, but eventually I caved after it became apparent nothing was progressing in the water. I laboured standing up leaned against a bench until it was determined that wasn't helping. Then I was told I should try the 'optimal' position for this part of labour - lying on the bed on my back with my feet in stirrups. I had horrible back and hip pain and hadn't lain on my back for any period of time in months so this seemed like the worst position imaginable. But I wanted to get the job done, so I got up on that bed and gave it a shot.
Soon, my contractions started getting less strong, so someone else was called in to see what to do next. I was in agony at this point, and begging for an epidural or anything to help me get through it. The biggest problem was that I was exhausted. Every contraction I put in a token effort of pushing, but I was just losing the stamina (and motivation) to do the larger pushes of earlier. The head Midwifey lady thing put me on a drip - the theory being that hydrating me might help strengthen the contractions. It didn't strengthen them enough. I was still pushing as much as I could with the contractions, and they were still seeing her head, and then it would disappear again.
Things were escalated again and the Dr was to be called in. When Vanessa found out who the Dr on call was she was not very happy - apparently he's a very conservative Dr. More direct foetal monitoring would need to be done before he'd even see me as my heart rate was interfering with the standard fetal monitoring. So a monitor was attached to baby's head via my vagina. Monitoring proved baby to be perfectly fine: 'The baby isn't in distress, so our options will be to give you a drug to help strengthen your contractions, or give you an epidural'. I told her I was very glad the baby wasn't distressed, but that I was, and I just didn't have the strength to go on pushing so to please please let me have the epidural.
It wasn't too long until the Dr turned up. Given they had told me he was a 'conservative' Dr, I expected the worst (which to me was 'just keep on pushing honey!') After an extremely painful internal exam he told me he had some bad news. Even though the baby wasn't in distress it was clear her head was becoming misshapen from being stuck in the birth canal. To ensure the baby stayed safe in labour I needed to have a C Section. At this point I was just filled with joy. There was a solution. It wouldn't take long. My baby would be ok and I'd get to meet her soon. I told him that was fine, and I just hoped we could get it done soon.
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There will be a Part 3 and then no more on labour I promise (except maybe a 'tips' list). Sorry! Lots happened, so writing in parts helps now I have a new little baby to look after and little time and brain. I will try and get it up in the next few days so stay tuned...
