Sarah's baby girl Imogen arrived towards the end of 2012. Despite lots of unexpected twists and turns, it turned out to be a very good birth story…..
I was always fairly confident in my body - and about birth, so when I passed the 41 week mark in pregnancy, it was a bit unsettling. I felt normal, but the hospital started to make me feel like I was not.
At first I kept a handle on it, but at the end of week 41, the midwives told me that I was putting my baby in danger and that my risk of stillbirth would double after 42 weeks. One midwife just shook her head at me and said: 'You do realise you placenta could pack up in labour?
I'm not one to cry - but when I phoned my husband and my doula, I was properly sobbing, completely shaken up. I was so confused. At this point, I could feel some faint cramping, and deep inside felt I needed to trust my body. But now I also felt frightened - and started questioning whether I should.
I pushed for more information, and later that day, a consultant doctor quantified the risk - it turned out it went from 1 in 3000 to 2 in 3000. I was amazed. Why hadn't they just explained that instead of employing such terror tactics? I'm sure like me, many women would happily tolerate such a risk, set against the much higher risks involved with induction. Why hadn't they balanced the information, so that I could make a decision as an adult, rather than scare me, and make me feel helpless?
I went home anyway, and that weekend was hard. Every evening, contractions would start - but go nowhere. My doula visited, and we tried to be positive but by Monday evening, we both felt sure the problem was the position of the baby - that it was in my back as I was having quite a bit of back-ache.
By Monday evening, I felt ready and happy to go into hospital, as it was my decision. I'd given my body a proper chance and now it did feel like time to draw a line in the sand.
It made all the difference making that decision myself, rather than being bossed and frightened into it by the midwife two days before. I now felt ready, in control - and though I was about to agree to some intervention, I also felt completely linked to my unborn child. When I'd been told off, like a child, it was like my connection to my baby was cut - like I was nothing to do with it all anymore. Now I was linked again. And it gave me confidence.
They broke my waters, and the contractions started at once, around 10pm. I progressed quickly and I could feel changes, so we got settled into our room and I started moving around, rocking on all fours, breathing well. Best of all, we were given lots of privacy - completely left alone. I don't know whether it was intentional, but it worked.
At midnight, a consultant came in and ominously drew up a chair . 'The situation wasn't good,' she said, there being a meconium stain in the waters, me being so late, and that I was only 2cm, and they wanted to augment the labour with a syntocinon drip.
I knew she was just doing their job, but I also was surprised at the way she didn't consider the bigger picture. For example, I was feeling really different, like everything was much more intense and that labour was ramping up. But it was like what my body was doing was irrelevant. On paper I wasn't progressing, and that was that. If I hadn't known I had a choice, it would have felt non-negotiable. And yet wasn't there good argument for waiting and seeing - given my baby's trace was perfect and I felt so well?
'What do YOU want to do?' my doula asked, bringing me back into the picture and it took me less than a second to know the answer - if I continued in the direction I was going in, all well and good - if things stalled then I'd reconsider. It felt good to have made that choice, to feel firmly in the driving seat and I remember feeling this incredible calmness.
So we were left alone again, but shortly after, the cracking backache I'd been feeling returned - and now it was unbearable. I couldn't respond to the contractions at all, and could only hold my breath and resist. It was like I was fighting it. We tried every position, words of encouragement, but it wouldn't go. The midwife just thought I wasn't coping, but my doula could see how I had been, and that this was different - the baby in my back.
I decided I wanted an epidural. It felt like the only way - but I intended to use it wisely. Once administered, I made sure I was on my side, had all the lights switched off, and closed my eyes. There were no artificial hormones in me, so this way, I knew I was giving my body, and the oxytocin, the best chance to do their thing. Two hours later, the midwife came in to rouse me, and said I might start feeling some pressure soon. But I already was. By the time I sat up, I could feel an incredibly strong sensation and when she returned, I already had my leg on my doula's shoulder and the head was coming. It was all so quick - another midwife ran in, just in time to catch my baby on the bed.
There were many moments in my labour, where the outcome could have been different if I hadn't been able to feel confident in my own instincts. My birth experience really enforced for me the importance of having good support. I am American, and live in the UK - but loads of contact with my sister who'd had a wonderful normal birth and always encouraged me to do the same, was very powerful. If ever I was in need of a boost, or worried about something (like being overdue), we'd speak and I'd always regain my perspective and end up laughing. I also had the support of a great doula.
My birth story ended up being very different from the one in my mind, I didn't have the surprise baby born at home in the bathtub; I had to wait a long time for her;I felt a lot of pressure to be induced; I had to have my waters broken; there was meconium; I had to be monitored; I had an epidural. But then there was the best twist - despite the interventions, it was just one night. An experience I was completely in control of.
Sarah's experience is a great example of how important it is to remain open and flexible about labour and birth. At every twist and turn, she re-positioned her thinking, kept her humour, stayed in tune with her baby...and the result was a good birth story. She is proof that having to accept interventions, does not mean giving up control.
