At just under 39 weeks pregnant my mother came to stay with us as first child Noah was born at 39 weeks and 4 days and I had had a gut feeling for most of this pregnancy that this baby would also come before 40 weeks.
The morning after my mum arrived I had a pinky show, which continued throughout the rest of the day. I went to bed fairly early in an attempt to get some extra sleep in case anything happened in the night.
Ian came to bed at around quarter to midnight (I had suggested that he might also get an early night) and accidentally woke me up. As I was trying to get back to sleep I realised that I was beginning to get mild contraction-like feelings in my tummy. I lay in bed for around 20 minutes wondering whether this was it and if it was OK to get people out of bed.
I woke a particularly grumpy Ian up, he had only just gone to sleep, woke my mother to let her know she was now babysitting 2-year old Noah and turned the central heating on as it was early January. Then we came downstairs to phone Laura.
Ian started setting up the birth pool in the corner of the living room, while I sat rocking on the birth ball. I dug out my bottle of petitgrain-o-flos essential oil, a calming oil, which was also what I used as my perfume on my wedding day so I associate it with very happy memories. I put one or two neat drops onto my nightclothes so I could smell it as I rocked.
Ian kept asking me whether he was supposed to be timing my contractions and how long they lasted. I remembered from last time that that had been a big distraction from focusing on the contractions with Noah's birth and was very glad at that point that we didn't have to worry about going anywhere this time.
After 30-40 minutes or so Ian had finished inflating the pool and had started filling it with water, by which time I was having some lower back pain and was kneeling on the floor leaning over the ball while Ian rubbed my back with a labour massage oil. It was at this point that Laura arrived.
The back ache eased a lot and I went back to sitting on the birth ball again. Laura suggested I use my TENS machine, which I had completely forgotten about and I was perfectly comfortable with it at it's lowest setting.
Ian was tired, so at about 3 o'clock when the hot water had run out (and the pool was still not very deep at all at this point) we went back to bed, leaving Laura to sleep on the sofa.
At about 6ish I woke up, the contractions having got stronger and I didn't want to lie any longer. I racked the TENS machine up to about midway and came downstairs to rock on the birth ball again.
At about 7ish everyone came downstairs and we all had breakfast – mine was brought to me to save me having to get off the ball. Noah wanted to come and give me hug so I said OK, even though I was having a contraction, the contraction just stopped mid-way through and I didn't have another until he'd happily toddled off back to his Nan .
Not long after I turned the TENS machine right up to maximum and Laura knew I was in established labour (from my breathing presumably, as I had told her right at the beginning of the pregnancy that I would only consent to an VE in exceptional circumstances) and said I could try the pool.
The pool was wonderfully warm and with plenty of room for me to stretch out between contractions. While in the pool I quickly discovered that I worked best with the contractions by coming away from the side of the pool and fixing my gaze on a point in the floor of the pool. In between contractions Ian, Laura and I were chatting and laughing and I felt really relaxed. Sometimes a contraction would come on midway through a conversation and I would just withdraw into myself until it was all over and then just carry on talking. It was a (nice) change from Noah's birth when all the talking by the hospital midwives during the labour, but especially during a contraction, had been intensely irritating to me.
All through the labour I was being plied with tea, yoghurts and ice cubes made with herbal tea. I seemed much hungrier than I had with Noah's birth and perhaps that was partly due to not having the entonox to distract me from recognising hunger pangs.
At one point Laura asked me if I was in any pain and I said in all honesty that period pains hurt more. The contractions were strong sensations but it was more like the sensation when you lift something heavy rather than the sharp twinge when you pull a muscle. Ian asked Laura how far along she thought I was and she said at about 7-8 cms dilated (still without the aid of an internal). I felt very dreamy and very relaxed and Laura said that that was the oxytocin.
Lunchtime came and went and the contractions started to feel more intense and painful and I felt that couldn't do this much longer. I was asking for gas and air or an epidural and I knew that this was a good sign, that I was probably in, or approaching, transition, but it all seemed so overwhelming and if I could have done I would have stopped everything and had another go a different day.
The doorbell rang twice – the postman and then a courier bringing our new double buggy – I was in the middle of contractions and in other circumstances I might have been embarrassed about how much noise I was making but I was too busy having a baby to care.
Laura kept telling me to do what my body was telling me, but at that point it wasn't telling me anything, or at least nothing that seeming sensible. She suggested I get out and try sitting on a birthing stool. I did and the contractions vanished, I was relieved to have a break to be honest, but I think Ian was worried at that point, as the same had happened to Noah and we ended up "needing" a ventouse delivery. I wanted to get back in the pool so we did, put the pains came back fast and furious and I could not get comfortable at all. Laura suggested I stand up and rock from leg to leg in a kind of dance. That was much better and I finally felt that pushy sensation that I hadn't felt with Noah at all. Laura again told me to do what my body was telling me and I said I needed to lie down, NOW.
Ian and Laura made a kind of nest of towels and I immediately lay down on my left side. I pushed when I wanted and for as long as I wanted, a fantastic change from the cheerleading "You're not trying hard enough" experience I'd had in hospital. Finally the baby's head started to crown and the burning sensation seemed to go on and on. Martha was born with both her hands on her head.
Laura handed Martha to me and she lay on my tummy, very shortly after the placenta flopped out all of its own accord. As Martha licked and nuzzled and considered having a feed, Laura showed Ian and I the placenta and explained how she checked that it was all OK and there were no bits left inside. When the cord had stopped pulsating and had turned almost translucent Laura cut the cord.
My mum and Noah joined us to say hello to Martha for the first time very quickly after the birth and we cracked open the bottle of Champagne that I had put into the fridge when the contractions started. Then while Ian drained the birth pool I had a bath and chatted to Noah, who was insistent that he help drain my bath. After Laura had fed me plenty of chocolate Martha and I were tucked up in bed for a well-earned rest.
The post-partum bleeding seemed ridiculously light compared to how it had been after Noah's birth, it seemed no heavier than a normal period and I certainly wasn't flooding pads within an hour or two. My mental state was so much better, with Noah I was on constant alert after the birth: breastfeeding was difficult, I struggled to get the help I needed, we were discharged after 2 days only to be readmitted on day 3 for jaundice, top-ups of breastmilk were replaced by top-ups of formula, the "only 24 hour stay" turned out to be nearly a week.
This birth story will be finally complete when the weather improves and we can bury the placenta in the garden under a tree, right now it's packed in a plastic tub at the bottom of our freezer.
