D.
D is my first doula baby and the story of his birth is such a
positive and inspiring tale. But let’s start form the beginning.
R is a friend of mine, a very good friend. We met during pregnancy
yoga classes in 2010 when I was pregnant with Tilda (my second daughter) and
she was pregnant with M (her first son). Since then we have built a great
relationship. When R found out she was pregnant for the second time I had been
journeying in the doula world for around a year (considering I had a doula for
Tilda’s birth too). We spoke of it and R told me that she liked the idea of
having a doula, or even more precisely to have me as a doula, but she didn’t
want to commit (and have someone else committing to it) so early in her
pregnancy, because she thought she might change her mind at the very last
minute and she didn’t want to let me down.
I told R that I was absolutely fine with it, but I also told her
that as we were (and are) good friends and already have a strong relationship,
she could feel free to ask me to be her doula later in her pregnancy. At that
point, though, I thought R would not ask me to be her doula.
And so, quite surprisingly for me, at almost 35 weeks pregnant R,
who had planned for a homebirth, told me that she would really love if I agreed
on being her doula. My answer was obviously a big YES!
We knew we didn’t have much time for all the usual meetings and
chats as baby might arrive early (M was early too), so we made the most of the
little time we had (and we still didn’t know it would have been so little!).
And thinking of this I have to say that the very first thing that R
taught me (or just proved to me) is that “mum knows better”, and what I mean
is: R was a bit concerned and practically sure that baby D would arrive really
early, before her mum could be here to help her and before she had finished
organizing a few things. I, on my side, was a bit worried thinking that baby D might
instead be late, because I know how stressing it can be when you expect your
baby to be born on a date and (s)he decides to arrive later (just when it is
the best time for her/him). I didn’t want R to feel that kind of stress. But
luckily I kept my mouth shut, because I was wrong: R knew better and baby D was
born at exactly 37 weeks!
Here is the proper birth story.
R and I had agreed that I would go on call from the 15th
of December until the 15th of January; but we also agreed that on
the grounds of our friendship I wouldn’t be so strict on dates and R could call
me even earlier than that and I would be with her and Rx (her husband), unless
some family matters prevented me.
So on December 11th I went to bed quite early and
switched off my mobile phone, as I wasn’t on call yet. At 00.20 (on 12th
December) my home telephone rang. Twice. Alessandro (my husband) picked up the
phone (and his words will be remembered for the rest of our life J). It was R! She told me that
she thought her waters had gone, and as they were pinkish she decided to go to
hospital to be checked (sure she would be back home in a couple of hours); she
asked me to go to hers and stay with M (her 19 month old son) while she was at
the hospital, then if she was asked to stay in hospital, Rx would arrange for
someone to come and stay with M so that I could join them at the hospital.
I got dressed still half asleep and unsure of what was going on,
and honestly DEAD scared! I started thinking, “What if I’m not good at all?
What If I think I can do this and I’ll just prove to be a waste of space? What
if everything is going well and jealousy kicks in because I never managed to
deliver naturally?”[1], no
matter what, I had to stop thinking and just concentrate on R, was it really
time for baby D to be born?
I got to R’s around 00.45am, and as soon as I entered R told me
that they had changed their minds and wanted me to go to hospital with them, so
that we could stay together if needed, or just come back home for her
homebirth. Rx called a friend to come and stay with M and as soon as he arrived
(and R gave him a few directions about what to do with M if he was still there
in the morning) we left. It was really cold outside, and Rx had to scrape the
ice off the car window before we could go. At this point R was just having some
irregular mild contractions, so she told me that she wasn’t sure she was in labour
yet, but here waters had definitely gone by the time we got to the hospital.
We arrived around 1.20 (and as it might happened in a film, police
stopped us as soon as we parked, but when I told them we had a lady in labour
they just wished us good luck and let us go, and it was only a matter of a
faulty light in any case!).
R and Rx were admitted to the Maternity Care Assessment Unit while
I was asked to wait outside. The next 40 minutes seemed hours to me! Why wasn’t
the MW (who promised me!) coming out to update me? Then Rx came out and told me
that as there was actually some bleeding they asked R to stay so that they
could monitor her and her baby. So she was being held for a while to be
checked. Then Rx went back in. And I stayed waiting again. But after 10 minutes
Rx came to call me. I was (at last!) allowed in and the doctor in service came
to explain us what the situation was. They couldn’t say if the bleeding was, in
this case, a normal part of her labour or if there was a separation of the placenta,
therefore they would advise R to stay in hospital to be constantly monitored.
She could still decide to go home, but they would feel safer if she stayed.
When admitted R had a VE and she was told she was 2cm dilated. But by now R had
definitely progressed in her labour, and her contractions were getting
stronger, longer and closer. R asked the doctor if we could have a few minutes
to talk. The doctor left. A lot of cuddling with Rx went on, we (the three of
us) start moving our hips on an 8 shape to help R sail through contractions.
And between contractions we discussed what to do.
R was disappointed and bewildered by the idea of having to stay in
hospital, she didn’t want to feel unable to move because of the monitor cables,
and she wanted her birth pool. Rx, on the other hand, said that at this point
he felt safer staying in hospital. It was time to decide. Going back home was R’s
first thought, but if Rx wasn’t feeling comfortable with it, this could have
been an issue with the normal progress of labour. R was dreading hospital
interventions and she wanted to go in the birth pool. I told her it was quite
unlikely they would allow her, as they wanted to constantly monitor her and her
baby. Still I went to double check with the doctor if she had the chance to get
into the pool. The answer was a clear “No, unless she wants to electrocute
herself!”. I told the doctor that what we mean was if she could be off the
monitor for a while, but the answer was again a no.
Contractions were getting stronger and closer (and more painful
too), and I knew all R wanted was water and no other pain relief. So I told R
and Rx that if she wanted to stay I’d do everything I could to help her to have
a natural birth, therefore if she wanted to stay I’d asked the doctor to let
her have at least a shower. We agreed. The doctor came in to find out what R’s
decision was, we told her she would stay, but I asked if she could have a
shower. The doctor agreed, she said she would organize for her to have a shower
as soon as we went up to the labour ward so that she could then go back to be
monitored ASAP. The monitor was really bothering R at this point. It would slip
down, and if Rx was holding it, it was helping at some points, but it was
painful at others.
Rx was great. An amazing support for R, a calming voice, a most
loving partner. R would lean on/hug him during every contraction. All I was
doing at this point was just remembering R of some movements she could do and
encouraging her telling her how well she was doing (as we agreed per her birth
plan).
Before we moved to the labour ward a MW came asking R for a blood
sample to check her iron levels, but R refused (she didn’t want to see a needle
unless extremely necessary); MW looked a bit annoyed and pushy and she kept
talking to R while she was having a contraction (any chance of R answering
properly???). But she gave up, and just had to take on R’s decision.
It was past 2.45am when we moved upstairs, and I was so glad about
it, firstly because R couldn’t stand the room we were in anymore, secondly
because I couldn’t stand it any more: it was the room where I had been when I
ended up with my first C-Section! But I obviously didn’t tell R at that point.
As soon as we arrived to the labour ward a new MW, Sandra, greeted
us and showed R and Rx to the bathroom, we exchanged a few words (and I was so
glad she was so nice and happy to have me there), then she left the room (and I
stayed in the labour room). Just a few minutes after Rx opened the door to tell
me “Go, Go and call the MW!” while R was shouting “The baby is coming!!!”. The
MW rushed into the room quickly looking for her gloves, a second MW arrived
too. Baby wasn’t actually coming. The two MWs helped R out of the bath and
dried her. R was definitely in the deep throws of labour, saying she couldn’t
do it any more, I told her she was just doing great and this was a good sign!
The MWs helped R to lie on her bed so that they could put the
monitor back. She asked to stay on her side because it was too painful to lie
on her back. She was allowed. The second MW then left.
R was amazing, she was doing so well. She was then offered gas and
air but refused it and kept breathing through contractions and vocalizing. I
stayed at her side telling her how great she was. Things were progressing
really well. R was letting her body lead her (and she confirmed this to me in a
post partum chat). I could see that contractions had slightly slowed down: baby
was ready to be born.
R did it all on her own, she almost breathed her baby out contraction
after contraction, she needed a single push after the head was out (he had his
cord around his neck, and the MW skillfully moved it, there were no concerns),
so at 3.37am baby D was naturally and safely born. It took a few seconds before
he started crying, but he was absolutely fine; R had him for skin-to-skin
straightaway and, you could see he was loving it. The air was definitely filled
with oxytocin and I could see the sudden change of expression on R’s face, from
pain to utter and unconditional relief, love and happiness.
Mum and dad were ecstatic, and I just let my tears run down
freely; at first I thought I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it anyway! The cord
has been left until it stopped pulsating and since dad didn’t fancy cutting it,
the MW asked R and me if I wanted to do it. R was happy for me to do it, and I
couldn’t be happier: I was on cloud nine! Oxytocin was everywhere.
R had a managed third stage (she planned a natural one, but
because of the previous bleeding she decided it was safer to go for a managed
one), she decided not to see her placenta (even if she actually did for a split
second), so the MW showed it to me and she showed me that there was actually a
separation, hence the bleeding. But Nature works wonders, and a short labour prevented
R from having a serious and heavy bleeding.
I stayed with R, Rx and baby D for an hour after he was born; a
few pictures were taken, mum and D had a lot of skin-to-skin and I waited until
D’s first feed. After that I just said R once more how great she was and what
and amazing job she had done. I then picked my things and kissed them all
goodnight.
I called a cab and went home to my husband and my two daughters.
It was past 5 o’clock, I was exhausted but could not sleep, how could I? I had
so many thoughts in my head, I was so happy, excited, full of joy, and couldn’t
help waking up Alessandro to tell him about my amazing first doula birth. My
youngest daughter woke up and I took her in bed with us; only after cuddling
her for a while I managed to fall asleep.
Just over an hour after we all got up and I told my eldest
daughter what happened during the night: she was enchanted. I don’t really know
if she could understand what I was telling her, all I know is that I felt I had
to involve my family to make this experience more complete, to teach my
daughters what an important event childbirth is.
To make this birth story complete there are just two other things
that I think are worth mentioning.
As I had two (emergency) C-Sections I was scared that I might
bring some negativity with me or that I might even feel jealous at some point.
Well, I can in all honesty say now that this never occurred, not even for a
split second. I felt supportive and so happy for R and Rx during every single
moment (and R told me in one of our meetings post birth that I’ve been a
perfect companion, so I guess I did well ;)).
The second thing is something more “spiritual” for me. The day I
found out I was pregnant with Betta (after a previous miscarriage), it was snowing
(so I called her while inside my womb, snowflake); the day Tilda was born it
was snowing. The night we were heading to the hospital with R a few flakes came
down. Snow gives me a feeling of peace and calm, and it seems to be the link
between these very important births.
[1] I’m glad I can say now that this never happened and I felt and still
feel so happy and blessed for having been able to attend such a natural birth.
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