My Birth Story

Nothing went according to plan, but it all happened exactly as it had to.

Dearest readers,

Today I wanted to share a personal anecdote as opposed to a well-researched article. Birth is often be a beautiful, positive experience. But it can also be stressful, terrifying, and for some even traumatising. We each go through our own journey, and it can feel lonely. That’s why it’s so important for us to share our stories,

(1) to lighten and brighten the memory of it for ourselves; and

(2) to remind us that each birth is unique, and we are bonded by our collective experiences.

So this week I would like to share my birth story. If you are currently pregnant and limit what you read to only positive, calming birth stories, do not read on.

If you’ve read my article about getting ready for birth, you might remember I had wanted to have a vaginal birth. My original preference was a water birth, but no doctor nor birth center nor doula would do that here. Instead we prepared for a vaginal birth at the hospital. My doctor reassured me that we would only resort to surgery in the case that the baby’s and / or my life would be at stake.

So, here it is.. My birth story.

Stage 1 of Labour: Dilation

Labour Pains

My husband, mom, and I were at the beach on Saturday the 22nd of October, and decided to spend the night at the resort. It was a day of swimming, sipping coconut water fresh from the fruit as we lounged by the ocean, and feasting. The breakfast and lunch buffets that day were fantastic, but our room service dinner had the rancid taste of old french fries. So, when I woke up at about 3AM with pain, and again an hour later with pain and a loose bowel movement, I chalked it up to the food. I whispered to my sleeping husband, “I think you were right about the oil being rancid. I don’t feel so good.” I didn't know what contractions felt like, so I didn't think I was in labour.

The next 1 or 2 waves of pain came an hour apart, then 30 minutes apart, then about 5-10 minutes apart. I started to suspect they were contractions, but they were inconsistent in duration, pain level, and time between each other. I was still convinced they could’ve been gas or diarrhea pains until the pain came consistently every 3 minutes. I know this because I recorded them in a contraction timer app and texted my doctor at 07:15AM:

I refused to believe I was in labour..

Since we were at the beach, it would take 30-60 minutes to get to either our house or the hospital. My husband suggested we make our way towards city to be on the safe side. But my mom, also convinced the pains were digestive, insisted that we have coffee and breakfast first. Still in slight denial, I agreed to go downstairs with her, but as we got into the elevator I had a surge of pain that forced me to bend over against the elevator wall and scream, “THIS IS NOT DIARRHEA!!”.

And with that, my husband and I went straight to the parking lot and drove to the hospital. On the way, I called my doctor saying I’ve been feeling pain for the last few hours. Probably hearing the held-back tears in my voice she said right away, “That’s it! Go! Go! Go to the hospital! 3rd floor. I’ll meet you there.”

At the Hospital

We arrived at the hospital, where my husband and I were immediately separated. I told them we would like to use the private room, so he could be with me during labour, but they insisted we stay separated first and each take antigen tests. Although our results were negative, we had to wait for the “official papers” to be released. This took at least 45 minutes, by the way. In the meantime, I told the doctor on call that I wasn’t 100% sure if I was in labour yet, so she did an internal examination and said I was already 6 cm dilated. So, that was that, I guess.

I was eventually wheeled into the the birthing suite and reunited with my husband, who was helping me fight through the contractions without any painkillers. When my doctor had arrived, my cervix was around 7 cm dilated, so she asked if I wanted to get an epidural because I was wailing in pain and she guaranteed that it was only going to get worse and I wouldn’t be able to request it later on. Although I originally wanted to do without an epidural, I took her advice and asked for one. Unfortunately, there were no anaesthesiologists available in the hospital (insert squeal of panic here).

The anaesthesiologist on call was at a birthday party and no one else was available. My husband and mom tried to find one from another hospital, but apparently most of them were at a conference somewhere or just not available at the time. Ridiculous, right? My doctor was livid. Epidural aside, what was worrying us was that my doctor had previously told me there could be a high chance she would have to perform a C-section because my pelvis is platypelloidal (not round, but flat) and the baby’s head might not be able to properly squeeze through.

Source: Healthline

After what felt like hours but was probably around 45 minutes, the head of the anaesthesiology department arrived, but I was already 9 cm dilated and just about ready to push. In all the panic, she ended up rushing and giving me too much epidural to the point where I couldn’t feel my uterus or vagina anymore.

Pushing

I was 10 cm dilated and ready to push, but I couldn’t feel the contractions nor whether I was pushing properly or not (I was not). My doctor was trying to guide me to push while the anaesthesiologist repeated “Mea culpa! Mea culpa!” and I pushed and pushed for two hours with no progress. The baby’s head kept moving back up the uterus and was getting congested with each push, dropping her heart rate. At some point it dropped very low but was not able to come back up quickly enough, so the doctor called for me to be moved into theatre for surgery.

This triggered a wave of tears in me, firstly because I felt I had failed to birth my baby and secondly because it meant I would be separated from my husband during surgery and from my baby after the surgery. This scared and saddened me more than any thoughts I might have had about a slow and painful recovery. I was just feeling that here and now I wanted my husband’s hand to hold and my baby to be roomed in with me right away, and I’d get neither.

Caesarean

In the operating room, I was paralysed from the waist down. The anaesthesiologist was holding my hand and making a lot of small talk about my aunt and grandpa. To be honest, it was annoying as hell, but she was just trying to keep me relaxed and distracted so I appreciated her very much for that. I was wide awake as 3 people were digging through my organs to find and deliver my baby and placenta. At some point I remember my doctor saying, “the bladder, the bladder!” and “I said pull up not out!” which was totally freaky to listen to.

Although most of this time was a blur, I vividly remember the moment my doctor announced that my baby was out, and I started to cry — totally overwhelmed by so many emotions, mostly joy and relief. They brought my daughter towards my head so I could see her. I wasn’t thinking about my birth plan or about how badly I wanted to do skin to skin contact right after she was born. All I could think was, “My baby. My beautiful baby.” It was the most beautiful few minutes.

I don’t have the right words to describe this moment

Post-Labour

I won’t go into detail about our days in the hospital, but will just say I’m glad we were discharged after only 2 nights. I was lucky to have recovered fairly quickly and was cleared to start yoga and light workouts after two weeks. What was most important for me, though, was that I was strong and active enough to carry and care for my baby. I’ve thought a lot about how crazy it is to go through major surgery and then have to take care of a whole other human a couple of hours later. A tip for first-time mommas-to-be: accept help and fall back on your support group!

Looking Back

Overall, it may not have been the birth I envisioned and prepared for, but what matters is that we are all healthy and together as a family now. Almost nothing from my birth plan actually went according to plan, but it turns out that everything that happen needed to happen. When my baby was pulled out of my stomach, the doctors found that the umbilical cord was wrapped (coiled) around my baby’s hip and feet, which wasn’t the case when we did an ultrasound before the push phase.

The umbilical cord was wrapped around my baby’s hip and feet

This may have explained why she kept moving back up the uterus after each push. She was in distress and probably would not have been able to come out vaginally. We needed the C-section, and I’m grateful for my doctor for having made the right call at the right time. My daughter was born safe and healthy.

It may not have been the birth I wanted, but it was the birth she needed..

… and I guess that was the perfect way for me to jump right in and learn first-hand about the sacrifices that come with the joys of parenthood. I would do it all again for my little one.