Birth story - Ho-Yun and baby Felix

* Possible triggers* “contractions” and “surges” both used; 2016 birthing experience (third paragraph from the end)

I just read an article on parenting which talked about reflecting, sharing and connecting. It prompted me to post my story to our PBC group here, where I've read so many before and found them all fascinating, informative and confidence-boosting. I'm hoping to give back...

Felix’s arrival was pretty straightforward. After a beach walk to a backdrop of the sun beginning to descend on New Year’s Eve, my husband, son and I went to a gathering at a friend’s home. There were four families altogether and the kids played well with each other, so the adults were able to have pretty much whole conversations, relax and appreciate some drinks. We’d been for a walk almost every day that week and I’d felt myself getting slower and slower. I was tired and feeling happy. I’d enjoyed lasagne, desserts (plural!) and some champagne. Good times.

As we left the gathering just after 11.30pm, I was rubbing my back gently, absent-mindedly. A friend asked if I was ok, which drew my attention to it but I just felt happy and relaxed. On the drive home we saw fireworks and as we all cuddled in our son’s bed listening to fireworks, it felt like all was right in the world. During the night I woke once or twice feeling slight aches in my lower back. New Year’s day breakfast involved avocado and poached eggs on toast with an ache or two. By the time we were having lunch with my parents (a fairly epic Chinese hotpot), I needed to leave the table to get on my knees and lean over the seat of a sofa whilst breathing in for 4 and out for 8. The aches in my lower back intensified. I started thinking that I wanted my bed…

So we got home, I took one paracetamol and set about cleaning the spare room and bathroom, just in case my parents were to come over. But were these sensations just Braxton Hicks? I remember thinking it’d be a shame if all this was for nothing – of course, I mean I was thinking “every surge brings me closer to meeting my baby”! At this point I was breathing through these sensations whilst on all fours in the bathroom, making sure the Flash product was doing its job. Having eaten a generous breakfast then a lunch feast, I didn’t think I needed dinner so decided to have a snack of cereal. Three bowls of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes later (the trouble is, they taste too good!) I called my parents and asked if they’d mind packing their PJs and coming over in case we needed to go to hospital. They arrived at 7pm as we were putting our eldest son Nico to bed. I was in bed, pressing buttons on my Tens machine and the Freya app on my phone (android, so got the app just in time!) – both of which I found good for my focus and getting in a bit of a rhythmic trance. I had my eyes closed for this time and for most of the labour to come, aside from negotiating stairs. After a while, the Freya app read, “you’re in established labour” and I shouted to my husband to come and have a look at the phone too, allowing myself to think for the first time, this could be it… After calling the hospital and breathing through a surge on the line, we said goodnight to our son again at 8.15pm, explained what was happening (which we’d been talking about for 3 weeks or so) and reminded him that his grandparents were downstairs in case he needed anything.

Getting into the passenger seat of the car might just have been the hardest bit of labour! It felt like it could be impossible, but I managed to fold myself in. We had a smooth 20-minute car journey with brief chats in between Tens machine tingles, up-breathing and Freya app anecdotes. I don’t remember any of these now but by the time Felix was born, my husband said he’d had enough of the woman on the Freya app banging on and on about that time she ran a marathon!

It was around 8.45pm when we parked up. I breathed through a surge whilst my husband got a ticket and stopped to breathe about 6 or 7 times more from there until we reached the labour ward at around 9pm, where we requested the one room on the Central Delivery Suite with a birthing pool. It seemed to take a while for a midwife to come, but when lovely midwife Kate arrived she took time to read and respect our plan; I didn’t accept the offer of an examination; and if I decided I wanted gas and air or anything else, I would have to ask for it, it would not be offered, as per the birthing plan.

I laboured firstly with one leg up on the bed and the other foot on the floor. It felt a bit awkward but I guess on reflection it was kind of an inadvertent yoga-style hip-opener. Then I had an hour or so in the birthing pool which became too hot for me – husband was “sweating cobs” too and the baby’s heartbeat couldn’t be monitored reliably. Plus, there may be no “i” in “team” but there was definitely poo in the pool! And I didn’t find any handles inside the pool which made it tricky. I recall floating about a bit during one contraction and thinking, “maybe I should ask for pain relief”, then silently telling myself “you packed the hospital bag for a good time not a long time” and “each surge brings me closer” and “you didn’t do all this prep, all this work getting over the previous birth to just chuck it away”. I said to my husband at this point, “I think I’m holding back”, and he told me that I could do it, to let go. This must have been the transition. When the midwife suggested getting out of the pool, I felt like it made sense to do so, partly because of the reasons above and also because I’d been faintly wondering whether I actually preferred the Tens machine to the water. I think I gracefully grunted “Get the Tens machine ready!” as midwife and husband helped me out of the pool.

The Tens machine went back on, I got onto the bed, laid mainly on my left side with my right leg bent and up, foot down. I was still in a kind of a zone, moaning through surges whilst putting most of my weight through my husband’s arms in some kind of forearms crossed arm wrestle – how he managed to press the Tens machine boost button, hold me up and not trip over the little stool with wheels, I really don’t know. At one point I began shaking. Several Jelly Babies and some breaths later it was time to push. Up-breathing had been ok but now I needed some help and guidance. My midwife later told me that I’d “breathed him down beautifully”. Feel the power you have, and you have it, feel it build, go with it, and push, help him to bring his head out. Remember the head’s got to come round and out. Come on, little boy’s at home, it’ll be great to get back to him with baby bro in tow soon and tell him what we’ve been up to at the hospital!

With the midwife’s encouragement, I felt Felix’s head with a hand. So close! It took 3 maybe 4 more surges before I got the hang of what needed to happen and managed to gather enough energy (Jelly Babies must’ve kicked in). Head, shoulders… and the rest of his perfect little body. For a moment, all was quiet and I asked, “is there something wrong?” A pause before Kate replied warmly, “there is absolutely nothing wrong”.

I felt calm and in the moment. Hello baby. He was on my chest. I found the umbilical cord fascinating. Two minutes past midnight on the 2nd January 2020. I hadn’t even noticed the massive digital clock on the wall until this point. It seemed like the first time I’d been fully conscious since eating the Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. I had the injection to deliver the placenta then one little stitch. I was able to walk. I was home within 24 hours of giving birth.

Such a different experience to last time in February 2016 which had involved various induction processes resulting in a C-section under general anaesthetic, then abdominal surgery and blood transfusions for atony and a blood blister on the outside of the womb. When I woke up 5 hours later in a morphine haze with cannulas, catheter, compression boots, I had a baby to care for and major surgery to understand and recover from. I felt, amongst other things, that I had “missed” my first baby’s arrival into the world. Baby’s ok, but why am I not? An underactive thyroid diagnosis followed, although not until late October in 2016. Mentally and physically it was challenging for me. For well over a year I was unsure if we would have another child, because of this delivery experience.

To say my recent experience was healing is an understatement. It may sound dramatic but I feel vindicated. It was, to me, truly amazing. I’d had tentative thoughts of wanting to give birth at night, to travel to hospital under the cover of darkness when there’d be little traffic and plenty of spaces in the hospital car park. Thoughts of the labour being quick. I almost hadn’t dared to allow myself to think any of this, let alone say it out loud.

Both pregnancies were straightforward and a joy, at times. This time, I wanted to be more informed and positive about birth, not scared. I got the PBC’s digital pack after a friend’s suggestion and I am so thankful that I did. I’ve reflected, shared and would be happy to connect if it’ll be helpful to anyone. Lots of love and positivity to you! xx