Showing posts with label births. Show all posts
Showing posts with label births. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Emily's Birth Story

Emergency Caesarean after spontaneous rupture of membranes (SROM) and 40 hour labour ordeal

by Clare Perriss – Weymouth & Dorchester NCT

My birth story begins with being diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 34 weeks. I was referred to an Obstetrician specialising in gestational diabetes, and she was really great. I voiced my concerns and my preference for a natural birth and she was able to tell me what she honestly thought the risks were in our personal situation, and from there we made a plan.

Instead of the stock standard, "We'll induce you at 38 weeks," she compromised and said that she would like me booked in for induction at 39 weeks. I spoke to her about wanting to do what was possible to get my body prepared prior to induction so that I was given every chance that my baby would come without needing induction. A series of stretch and sweeps were scheduled leading up to the induction date. I also made arrangements to have some reflexology and moxibustion done around these dates.

I had my first session of reflexology/moxibustion just before 38 weeks, and it was wonderful - very relaxing, and I was given a moxa stick that I used at home also. I had my first stretch and sweep a couple of days later, at 38 weeks 1 day. The midwife came out with a show, and said she thought the cervix was quite soft, I was 1cm dilated and the baby was starting to engage. I was so excited! I thought that this could mean that my body and my baby were really getting ready to go and we would be able to avoid induction. That night, I started having more painful tightenings when I went to bed, and a few woke me up at night. However, they had stopped by morning.

My next stretch and sweep was at 38 weeks 4 days. The midwife informed me that I was 1-2cm dilated, and that things were looking very good. She came away with a good show, which continued during the day but stopped by the evening. I was very excited, and I said to my husband Stephen that I thought something might happen overnight. The next morning, 16th December, I woke up at about 7.15am to a very strong tightening, and feeling warmth on the sheets. I immediately knew what had happened - my waters had broken! I jolted out of bed as fast as was possible at 38+ weeks pregnant to avoid staining the bed too badly, and waddled over to the loo with my legs closed tight, leaving a dripping trail behind me!

I called the midwives at the hospital who said to come in and be monitored. Stephen helped me get ready, and off we went, a 45 minute drive to the hospital. I was a little nervous, but there was a calm about me as I knew this was it. Our baby was finally going to be here with us before too long. Stephen was calm, but I could tell he was nervous also.

I brought a number of towels and sat on these in the car, although it seemed that sitting down was the one thing that stopped the flow! By the time we arrived at the hospital, I had completely soaked through my tracksuit pants, and walking to the maternity ward only made matters worse. I arrived in maternity very clearly showing that my waters had broken, with dark patches almost down to my ankles! I was put on the montitor, and baby was doing very well.

I changed my tracksuit pants, and as the morning went on I continued to have irregular tightenings, some quite painful, others barely at all. Each time I had a tightening, a heap more fluid would leak, so I ended up going through another 3 pairs of underwear, a packet of maternity pads, and another pair of tracksuit pants! Stephen went into town to buy me some more, as I think he felt like he needed to do something. He came back with pyjamas, tracksuit pants, and even a new pair of lovely slippers!!

I spent a lot of that day walking briskly around the maternity ward and leaning on all fours over a chair, trying to help things along. I was excited and frustrated by equal measure, as I really thought things would have kicked off by that point. By afternoon, nothing was happening aside from the irregular tightenings, so a consultant came to talk to me.

I made sure they were aware that I wanted to give my body and baby a chance to start things naturally, and the consultant was pleased and happy for me to continue as I was, up to 72 hours after my membranes ruptured to avoid the risk of infection. We made a decision to stay in hospital at that point, as it was a long drive home and back again - I felt quite calm and safe in the hospital, having spent a bit of time there for tests and scans associated with the diabetes.

I asked to have the monitor put on that evening just so I could hear baby's heartrate for some reassurance before bed, and at about 8.30pm I was hooked up, and I settled down to listen to our baby for a while. After about 10-15 minutes where I had a couple of moderate tightening, as I’d had on and off all day, I suddenly got the most painful, prolonged contraction that lasted almost two minutes from start to end. It had me really groaning, and the midwife heard me from the next bed and came to check on me.

As she did, the monitor started beeping, and our baby's heartrate couldn't be picked up. She tried to find it, and eventually did on the other side of my stomach and it was very low. Panic stations. She pressed the buzzer and about six people came running in. I was a bit shellshocked and wondered what was happening. My baby's heartrate recovered, and everything settled down, but I was moved very quickly to a labour room and set up on the monitor in the new room.

Stephen had gone home for the night at about 7.00pm as nothing seemed imminent, but he was called back in as there were thoughts about whether our baby would need to be born quickly. He arrived around 10.30pm. Our baby had done a complete twist during that full-on contraction and we realised by the next morning she had moved posterior, with her back completely on the opposite side of my body to where it had been.

I was kept on the monitor for quite a while. Everything with baby went back to normal with her heartrate and eventually I was taken off the monitor. From that first initial very strong contraction at 8.30pm, every contraction I experienced after that was strong and I would need to breathe heavily through many of them. They were not coming anymore regularly than 6-7 minutes apart, so Stephen was advised to go get some rest, as was I.

Stephen went to his parents’ house at about 12.30am for some sleep as it was much closer than going home again. I had a very restless night as I was having hard contractions every 5-6 minutes that I often needed to get on all fours for, or lean over the bed - sitting in the chair or lying down was very uncomfortable. I could not sleep for more than a few minutes between contractions here and there. It was also proving very difficult to monitor the baby on and off overnight as it had moved into this posterior position and it was hard to keep track of its heartbeat consistently.

At about 5.30am it was suggested that an internal examination be done to see how things were going and to place a scalp monitor on. The internal showed I was 3cm dilated and only 70% effaced, so there was a long way to go, and the scalp monitor was placed but unfortunately wasn't giving any reading.

Stephen arrived at about 9.30am and I was still in early labour, still only having about 2 contractions in every 10 minutes or so. They were painful, and I was tired, but felt encouraged by the internal I had early in the morning. As the day went on, my contractions did not get any more frequent, but remained very painful. In fact, at times they would stop all together, particularly when I was moving about and not resting. Another internal showed that I was still 3cm dilated and not fully effaced. I was trying to relax, but was finding it more and more difficult.

By late morning the midwife who was looking after me started mentioning augmentation via a drip, as a different consultant who had seen me that morning was concerned about infection becoming a possibility as time went on. It had been more than 24 hours since my waters broke and active labour showed no signs of starting. I had a lengthy discussion about the pros and cons of going on the drip with the midwife and decided that if I hadn't made any more progress in a couple of hours that I would think about it properly. I had been sitting on a birth ball for hours, and at about midday an anaesthetist came in to insert a drip into my arm to give me some antibiotics and have everything prepared in case of induction.

In the meantime I had requested a TENS machine earlier in the morning as my contractions were getting progressively more and more painful. I was groaning through all of them, often rocking on the birth ball. If I moved around or got up and walked the contractions would stop until I was sitting back down again, except when I went to toilet and as soon as I sat down on the loo, I would have an awfully strong one!

I had not been allowed to eat breakfast, so I had not had any food since dinner the night before, and I asked to have some food and a shower to try and perk me up a little. The drip was taken off, TENS was unhooked, as well as the monitor and I had a shower after having a bite to eat. I thought it would help with the pain, but as soon as I was moving again the contractions stopped. The shower was lovely though - I felt refreshed.

I was hooked up again and I had another internal at 2pm, and this time I felt really disillusioned. I was still at exactly the same place as I had been at 5.30am. A new midwife shift had started and a wonderful, professional but sensitive and soft-spoken midwife was assigned to me. I voiced my concerns about augmentation again, and my fears about how painful it was going to get as I was already finding the contractions in non-established labour so painful. I wanted to do everything I could to avoid pain relief.

The midwife explained that the syntocinon would not make things more painful than they would get naturally in a progressed labour, it would just ramp up the intensity of how quickly they would get more painful. This made sense to me, even though I was really frightened of how much pain I could bare. At this point though, with her guidance and knowing that this midwife would look after me I agreed to go on the drip and everything was set up.

It took about an hour or so, but the contractions started to come on more frequently as the dose was slowly increased. I could not sit on the bed anymore, and moved back to the birthing ball, swinging around or leaning up against the bed with my elbows and head on my arms, bouncing away. I requested gas and air as the intensity increased. It took a few goes, but I got the hang of the gas and air quite quickly.

Eventually, I could not sit any longer through contractions and I started standing through them, swaying my hips and getting quite vocal! The gas and air like made me feel extremely ‘drunk’ which took me away from the pain and gave me some hallucinations at first. My awareness of time was going as I started to lose myself in the pain, being detached from it when the affects of the gas wore off. Stephen and the midwife were helping me to breathe deeply. I don't have much recollection of this at all.

The next thing I was aware of, I was on the bed having an internal with the midwife was trying to get me to focus on her and telling me "Clare, you're still only 3cm dilated". I was absolutely devastated. Even though I have very little memory of the time leading up to the internal, I do remember how much I was focusing and continuing to think this whole time, "Each contraction is dilating me and helping my baby to come. I can go through this as I am getting closer each time". And to find out that all the time on the drip had been for nothing and that I was going nowhere was the worst thing possible. I felt completely beaten. I think I was pretty desperate at this point, as I know I was convinced it was going to end with a caesarean, and I was asking for an epidural. Stephen tells me I was yelling a fair bit!

After my epidural was administered the midwife turned the syntocinon down as I was having contraction after contraction without pause, and it was too full on. As the contractions dropped in frequency I started to regain my awareness as I was having breaks in between using the gas and air. A consultant came to talk to me and said that we would give it another two hours to see what was going to happen, and then we would need to talk about the next option.

I started to feel less pain as the epidural took effect, but realised that it was only working on one side quite quickly. Still, it was much better than it had been - the pain was much more tolerable as it was taken away by half! I was tilted over to try and see if the drug would balance on the other side, but it did nothing. I had gone back to having about four contractions in 10 minutes, which seemed much more manageable than before.

The time until the consultant came back went by quickly, with a new midwife seeing to me, and when the consultant did an internal at 9.30pm she said I was 3-4cm dilated and she tried to attach another scalp monitor for the fourth time. I was exhausted and not taking things on board so well now. I was extremely emotional, I was still no further. We talked about caesarean and the consultant was very kind – I remember her taking my hand and saying to me, "Clare, you have done everything you possibly could to bring your baby into the world, now we need to give you a hand to finish it off. You should be so proud of how much you have done to this point." It helped me regain my composure, and we prepared for a caesarean and it was like a load was lifted from my shoulders.

The epidural was switched off, as well as the syntocinon and I shakily signed a consent form and we were off. Stephen held my hand until he had to get dressed up, and I was wheeled into theatre. The anaesthetist was so very kind and gentle, he said that he was going to replace the epidural with a spinal block and he was sorry that it had not worked correctly to begin with. I was crouched over for the second time, trying to stay still during my contractions (my own natural contractions were now very full on even with the syntocinon and epidural gone). Once the spinal block was in, it was like the sweetest relief I have ever felt. I felt no more contractions, after 26 hours of pain amounting to nothing and 40 hours since my waters first broke.

Stephen was seated at my head, never letting my hand go and the fear of what it would feel like to be cut open was quickly abated when it was all happening and I realised I could feel nothing. Before long - such a short time! – our baby was hoisted above the curtain at 10.46pm on Wednesday 17th December and Stephen and I saw her for the first time, all squishy-faced and red! It was a miracle!

Our baby was taken by the midwives and cleaned a little and wrapped before quickly being placed in Stephen's arms. He found out her sex for himself as we asked no one to tell us, and she made her first sounds in his arms – the sweetest most incredible sounds ever. We named her Emily Acacia there and then. The world narrowed down to myself, Stephen and our baby, and it was the most special, intimate and amazing experience of my life, all in front of a dozen busy people. I turned to my anaesthetist and said, "Thank you for looking after me" and he smiled so kindly. Everything was perfect.

The time for me to be stitched up went so fast. Before long I had my baby on my chest as I was being wheeled back to my room, and I made the biggest effort with a midwife pushing on my feet upwards to try and lever myself upright whilst still under the effect of the spinal block so I could let Emily attach to my breast. I was so determined, and we did it. The three of us were then left in private and our daughter and I had skin to skin contact for about 4 or 5 hours as I would not let her go. Stephen took lots of photos before he left to sleep at his parents’ again, at about 2.30am.

It turns out that Emily's neck was flexed - probably when she maneuvered in distress at the initial prolonged contraction I had the evening before her birth. This was why I did not progress - as her head was not in a position to help dilate my cervix properly, despite being on the drip. She was not an overly big baby as predicted (there was also talk of shoulder distocia during my labour ordeal – where babies shoulders are too big to fit through the pelvis) but she was our perfect girl who had a bit of a bumpy ride into this world.


As much of the evening of my augmented labour I have no memory of, I will never forget what holding my daughter was like for that first night. I did not sleep for the second night running as the adrenaline and joy of having her in our arms kept me going and I couldn't have been lighter or more on top of the world. Our daughter was here with us, after a big journey full of ups and downs to be here. All was well.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Why I Became A Doula



by Katie Rachanow


I believe that with anything in life, things have a way of working out.  So when I was posed the question; “Why did you become a doula?”  I was a little stumped. To be honest, I have no idea. But this is how the journey unfolded.

I'm a yoga teacher from America. We moved to Ely when I was 5 months pregnant and had to learn everything about the British healthcare system in a matter of 4 months. I was scared and alone and boy do I wish I had a doula.  Luckily, I had some amazing midwives that pointed me in the right direction. And eventually I just let my yoga practice take over my mind and body and experienced the most profound and enlightening birth of my daughter.

I had been studying yoga and pregnancy for sometime before becoming pregnant.  I have a deep routed interest in people and their health and the health of their babies.  So when I was looking at trainings for the year I was pleasantly surprised that England has some of the most educated and well trained teachers of pregnancy and birth in the world. I decided that I couldn’t leave this country without meeting Michel Odent. Odent is the first doctor to write about Waterbirth and about the impact that birth has on our civilization.  I had no idea what a doula was or what the work would entail but I did know that I needed to meet this man! And the way to do that was to take the Paramana Doula training Odent and Liliana Lammers offered in London.  So I sign up!!!

I had heard of doulas (they are fairly popular in America) but I had never known exactly what they do.  A doula is a person that supports the family unconditionally with emotional, physical and informational support throughout pregnancy, birth and beyond.  I learned so much at that training. And although I left with a new understanding of birthing, I still wasn’t sure that I would become a doula afterwards. I just thought that it would be a good addition to my pregnancy yoga classes, and it was.  However, a couple of my yoga students heard that I had become a doula and all of a sudden before I knew what was happening I was sitting in a hospital room helping a mom have her baby. Four short months and 4 births later, I became a certified/recognized doula with Doula UK.

So far, I’ve had the extreme pleasure of working with the RAF Lakenheath hospital system and the Addenbrookes NHS hospital system. All four births have been in a hospital. Some natural, some not so natural, some with midwives and some with doctors, some with gas and air, some with induction, some with medication and some with nothing at all.  I’ve been so blessed to have seen both the American and British health care systems at work.  And what I’ve learned is that every woman and baby are different. Each birth is unique, even if it’s multiples. Every partner and family structure is distinctive.  Sometimes the mom doesn’t need support at all but sometimes it’s the dad that needs reassurance. Some women need massage and music and others just need me to sit and listen to them. Some women need reassurance and some don’t need anything at all. But one of the main things that I think I provide as a doula is the knowledge that women are capable and strong and sometimes they just need to know that they can trust their instincts.

I continue to learn from each experience and every story I hear (I will forever be a student). And I still can’t believe that I have had the unexpected good fortune to slip into a role where I get to help a new baby meet the world. 

Have you used a doula? Let us know about your experience by commenting below...

Monday, November 12, 2012

A Positive Second Birth

by Michelle Maurice (Vale of Evesham NCT)

As the birth of my first child had not gone anything like according to my birth plan, I was pretty nervous about having my second. My wonderful plan of a homebirth for my first baby with soothing music, candles and a birthing pool was cruelly shattered at 38 weeks and 4 days when I was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia and had to go into hospital for an induction. After a 28 hour labour, much pain relief (including an epidural) and a forceps delivery, my beautiful baby boy was born. I was delighted, but I was exhausted and I felt a failure for not having delivered him drug-free and ‘naturally’. This was all compounded by my developing blood clots a few days later which led to 6 months of medication and further feelings of having failed and wondering how anybody could ever have a second – even third! – baby. Perhaps worse, I never met anyone else at Mum and baby groups later who’d suffered a similar fate, so I felt isolated as well as suffering depression and panic attacks.

Yet this second baby was exactly what I knew my husband Martin and I both wanted, and wanted also for our son. When Seth was less than a year old, this knowledge was something which used to make me feel depressed and panicky ... it was something I ‘couldn’t’ do (despite doctors saying actually, I could – although I’d be given heparin as a safeguard against the possibility of any clots forming again).

When Seth was about 3, my body and mind had recovered as much as they were going to, and I genuinely felt fine to see if I might fall pregnant again. This wasn’t a 24 hour a day feeling – I don’t know if the decision to have a baby ever can be – but I knew it was the best time for me.

I was determined to make everything different about this pregnancy, and so hopefully birth. The pregnancy hormones that make one calm in so many ways kicked in almost straight away, and in themselves shielded me from anxiety. I prepared for this second baby in a more indulgent way. Silly, small details now made a difference, and were a bizarre way of ‘ensuring’ a better time this time around. For example, whereas items for my son had been practical and plain, sourced often from Tesco’s, now I determinedly went out and indulged my passion for gorgeous accessories – a Cath Kidston nappy bag was a must! Friends laughed along with me, knowing my passion for handbags. But for me, psychologically, this sort of behaviour was different from the first time around and so in some way might help to lead to a different birth. (Illogical? Yes. Comforting? Definitely.)

The run up to the birth was very different to my previous experience. This time, my blood pressure remained resolutely normal. Amazing! Especially in view of the fact I could never have my blood pressure read without feeling some anxiety as the familiar band was wrapped around my arm. Already, I was feeling a small sense of achievement ... 

My reflexologist had confidently predicted that my baby would be born around week 39, with a certainty that I found charming if unconvincing. I continued to enjoy my monthly pampering at her hands and was happily attending a visit to my midwife for a check-up in the middle of my 39th week when she said, ‘I think you’re going to go into labour very soon, Michelle’. Panicking at the thought of my waters breaking suddenly and publicly on my planned visit to the local swimming pool, I questioned the wisdom of proceeding with my schedule for that day. Her confidence and calmness in stating that it would be fine for me to carry on was in fact typical of my treatment from pretty well all the medical staff I encountered the second time around: eminently reassuring and confidence-inspiring.

So on that fateful Friday, despite some odd sensations that started in my back around midday (nothing you could exactly call an ache, however) I swam my 30 lengths before rolling my rotund frame into the oh-so-small shower cubicles at the local pool. I came home, remembered I’d promised to buy my son some Christmas cards to send his friends at school, rolled round to the shops (which were also starting to feel oh-so-small these days). I came home and plopped myself onto my birthing ball to see if some pelvic rotations might help my back which was still feeling...odd. I thought that perhaps some distraction might help ... watch a good film, brilliant idea! I lowered myself towards the DVD (whose idea had it been to put it practically on the floor? Why had I agreed? Madness!) and put ‘Atonement’ on.  James McAvoy therapy, that should do it.

By the time my husband returned from work about an hour later, it hadn’t done it – my back still felt odd and I felt a sense of excitement that I found hard to restrain. We decided to summon his parents, and snap a photo of my truly impressive profile before it might be too late. My in-laws arrived a few hours later, having travelled up from the coastline of South Wales, to find me decidedly restless and my husband quite calm. I decided to have an early night (‘just in case’) and retired to bed feeling guilty in case I’d caused them an unnecessary journey.

I managed to drop off to sleep quite late – I was still trying not to be excited and nervous about what the midwife (and my reflexologist!) had said. I awoke at 1.30am, experiencing period type pains, which were followed at about 2am by a distinctive ‘pop’ from within my stomach that told me my waters had broken. Things then happened quite quickly.

Pacing around the living room and sitting on my birthing ball helped me through the next half an hour or so. My husband calmly rang the hospital at about 2.30am to see if it was time to go in: they thought not. An hour or so later of trying all my breathing exercises and walking/waddling round the living room forced me to conclude that nothing was now really relieving the pretty strong contractions, and I definitely wanted to go to the hospital. My now slightly-less-calm husband rang the hospital again at 4am, and spoke to a midwife who happened to know me from my first baby. She said I could go in. Hurrah!

Having jammed my birthing ball and overnight bag into the boot of the car, Martin jammed me into the front and set off for the hospital with some haste ... thank goodness the night roads were so clear. I remember saying in between contractions that the first thing I would have when arriving at the hospital was pain relief, thank you, and thinking that we couldn’t get there soon enough. Our arrival at 4.30am was suitably dramatic, with me being unable initially to get out of the car because of an almighty contraction, and really just wanting to press myself down onto the cold, wet tarmac of the car park, which looked strangely inviting ... My panicky husband kept asking what he should do – bless him, with my birthing ball wedged under one arm and bulging overnight bag locked in the other hand he didn’t really look able to do much. Somehow we made it to the foyer, where he got a wheelchair and somehow manoeuvred me into it.

The birthing ball and overnight bag were abandoned temporarily as we made our way to maternity triage, en route losing one of my shoes (although this was only discovered later). Two lovely calm WONDERFUL midwives inspected me and said ’Oh, we can see the head’, which explained my difficulties in getting out of the car and into the hospital. I remember at this stage being very conscious of everything that was being said around me, but of not being able to talk myself in response. I felt happiest remaining on my knees gripping the headboard of the bed (not a practised position, or even a planned one, but it just felt right at the time). With a few sets of pushes, and LOTS of breathing, our beautiful daughter Scarlett May was born at 5am.


I felt such an incredible rush of love when I looked at her (and even at my husband and the midwife) – it just goes to show what oxytocin does to you. Marvellous stuff.

So there it was. A beautiful baby girl, and finally ‘closure’ from my scary first birth. This time, no pain relief and not a forcep in sight. The words of my fab NCT teacher rang clear in my mind: ‘Every labour is different, every birth is different.’

Ladies, go get yourselves that designer nappy bag!

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

1,120 new babies in East Cambridgeshire in 2011

In October, the Office for National Statistics (ONS) released its annual statistics on births in England and Wales.

1,120 live births to East Cambridgeshire mums

Last year, there were 1,120 live births to women living in East Cambridgeshire. Congratulations if you were one of these mums! 

Across the whole of Cambridgeshire and Peterborough, there were over 10,600 live births. Almost half of these babies were born to women living in the north east of the county (Huntingdonshire and Peterborough).


Rapid increase in number of babies in Cambridgeshire

Over the past five years, the number of babies born to mums living in Cambridgeshire and Peterborough has risen by 14.8 per cent - higher than the national average increase of 8.1 per cent.

Across Cambridgeshire, the biggest increase has been in East Cambridgeshire - a large increase of 22.3 per cent.


Across England and Wales, there have been a number of continuing trends

  • The average age of women giving birth continued to rise. In 2011, the average age was 29.7 - the highest since records began in 1938;
  • The percentage of births occurring outside of marriage reached a new record high (47.2 per cent). This has increased rapidly since the 1980s;
  • At 25.5 per cent, the percentage of babies born to non-UK born women also broke a new record, with a strong increase since the late-1990s.
Defying trends, the fertility rate (the average number of children per women) fell in 2011 to 1.93, from 2.00 in 2010. This was the lowest rate since 2007 but remained higher than most of the 70s, 80s, 90s and early 2000s.


More information can be found on the ONS website
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