Birth story - Emma and baby Zachary

My surges woke me at around 4am on the Friday, and I knew straight away that this was the real thing. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I started timing them using Freya and got out of bed. By 7am they went from coming every 8 minutes to every 4-5 minutes. We got to the magic ‘3 surges in 10’ minutes by about 8am.

I freshened up and had some porridge, then attached the TENS machine as the sensations were getting more intense and I knew it would be more effective the longer I wore it for. I timed the surges, bounced on my ball, assumed lots of different birthing positions and did my ‘up’ breathing techniques through the day, and by evening I had been having regular surges for so long I thought things must have progressed.

We took an Uber in rush hour (not much fun - especially the speed bumps!) to hospital and I went in to be assessed alone because of COVID. I was only 2cm dilated so couldn’t be admitted, which was absolutely gutting. Given the option of a morphine injection and a few hours on the ward by myself to see if things progressed, I used my BRAIN and turned it down, as I thought I’d manage the surges better and feel more relaxed at home.

Another Uber ride later and we were back home. I stopped timing the surges as my phone was a distraction, and they continued through the night at the same frequency. I didn’t sleep, and my husband only managed a short nap on the sofa as I wanted him to help count my breathing - until he was so tired he kept forgetting the number 4!

By the next morning, I felt things must have progressed some more. This time we drove ourselves in, and around 8am I was told I was 5cm dilated - hooray! I texted my husband to bring our things up and we were admitted to a room on the labour ward. I’d hoped for a birth in the midwife led unit (MLU) in the hospital, but already knew that COVID meant all staff were consolidated in the labour ward and a water birth wouldn’t be possible either.

Our midwife Kayla read our birth preferences and took on board that we’d wanted to create a cosy environment, so she brought equipment from the MLU (floormats and a ball), closed the blinds, dimmed the lights and put some of the machines behind a curtain. She was outstanding, letting us get on with the breathing and positions that had served us well so far and knowing when to check in and keep us informed.

As the hours went by, she suggested we take steps to try to move things along, and at each stage I was able to take decisions with the full knowledge of what was happening. My waters were broken around lunchtime but I still didn’t move beyond 5cm. My baby was in no hurry to come out, but the risk to him was increasing once my waters were broken and I was getting exhausted after no sleep and persistent surges.

Kayla explained in the afternoon that induction would be necessary in order to get the baby out soon. I’d hoped to avoid this, but agreed to it as I was so excited to meet my baby and wanted him to be safe. She also raised the question of pain relief. By this stage I’d managed 37 hours using breathing and the TENS machine and though I was so proud of how I’d handled it and had the support of an amazing birth partner, I knew things would ramp up. I was so exhausted that I knew my body and mind needed a break of some kind, and it was getting harder to breathe through the surges instead of crying out.

I used BRAIN again to choose between an epidural and gas and air. It was really important to me to be ‘with it’ when my son arrived, so I chose the epidural over gas and air. Getting it fitted was the most uncomfortable I felt during labour as I had to sit on the bed completely still through the surges. I knew the epidural would restrict my movement but it was the best decision I could have made in that moment - my sense of humour returned and I relaxed completely. I could stop for a moment and appreciate that my baby was coming one way or another and I felt so excited!

By this point an anaesthetist and doctor had joined the team. The doctor did another examination and I’ll never forget the look that went between her and the midwife when they realised I was suddenly fully dilated - we couldn’t believe it either! The mental relief brought by the epidural and the positive feelings of empowerment from making my own decisions must have told my body I was ready. There was no need for the induction and I was so buzzing to have the chance to push my baby out with my natural surges.

I turned down a hospital gown and stayed in my own clothes (just a sports bra by that point!) as I wanted to feel like an active birthing woman and not a patient having a procedure done - yet another hypnobirthing tool!

Then I started to push - on my back because of the epidural, but not feeling passive by any means. My son had some way to go still and was a large baby (9lb 14oz!), so it took two hours of pushing. I agreed to the use of the ventouse to get him down the final stretch, and two more doctors arrived to fit the suction cup and help him out. The room full of medics wasn’t what I’d pictured, but I felt like an endurance athlete surrounded by a support team. I could still feel the wave of each surge approaching so I told everyone when they were coming and to get ready to pull! I was in the driving seat and feeling so powerful. Then he was crowning and my husband told me he had loads of hair! Another push and his head came out, then with another push his shoulder, and then the rest of him. He was placed on my chest straight away (at which point he did a huge poo!) and he screamed the most glorious screams as the two of us were covered in towels for warmth. All I could say was “He’s here!” over and over again.

I was so overcome and ecstatic that I needed gas and air to chill me out and keep me still while the doctor stitched me up after the episiotomy. The surgical cut was another thing I’d hoped to avoid but in the moment I was just so grateful that he had arrived. Blissed out on gas and air, I stared out the window at the lights of a city at the peak of the pandemic, and felt waves of gratitude that I held new life in my arms. We had about an hour of skin to skin and he latched on straight away. I told my husband to take a photo of me at this point because I felt “like Superwoman” - it was the gas and air talking, but still true!

Zachary’s journey wasn’t over yet. My temperature spiked in the final pushing stage of labour, a sign of infection, and tests straight after the birth showed Zachary had the same unidentified infection too. He also had a slight heart murmur and laboured breathing. So there then followed a five-day stay in hospital for both of us for a course of antibiotics under observation. By the end of day three Zachary was back to normal, and he fed like a champ throughout. The regular observations were pretty anxiety-inducing though and woke us through the night. I used the same breathing exercises - and a lot of prayer - to manage the stress of these checks.

The hospital stay was also not in the ‘plan’ and I had a wobble a couple of days in, but I told myself to treat it like Mum School and make the most of all the help and advice - as well as eating hot pudding and cooked breakfasts every day! The care was amazing and my love for the NHS grew even more. As I got to know the other women who shared my room over the five days I became even more in awe of what our bodies can endure and how strong women can be. Birth is a powerful and beautiful thing, and thanks to hypnobirthing techniques, the support of my birth partner and the strength I drew from my faith, my marathon birth was still an empowering one.