Tag: birth story

Welcoming baby Delphi- My Birth Story

Birth StoriesNew mumNewbornPregnancyThe Great British Birth Off

I don’t really know where to start with the labour. I could potentially say I was in early labour for a few days, contracting on and off throughout the days and evenings prior to the birth with it not amounting to anything. For the sake of time, I’m writing this whilst the baby is sleeping, and to save your boredom I’m going to fast forward to when it finally and thankfully stepped up a gear. This was Friday evening. The evening started like all the other evenings before, me bouncing on my ball in front of the TV. Rob had gone to football and I was contracting as I usually did in the evenings. It got to 11pm and the contractions were coming regularly. I said to Rob tonight is the night, he rolled is eyes and carried on watching 8 out of 10 cats does countdown, as I’d cried wolf every day already this week. From how ‘stop and start’ my contractions had been this week I had lost all faith in my ability in judging whether it was happening or not. I went upstairs to take a shower and to have a word with myself. I was probably not going into labour at all.

Half an hour in the shower I rang my friend to come over. The contractions were becoming stronger and staying regular, I was still not totally convinced though and prepped her that it may all stop. I rang the birth unit too and said the same to them, “I don’t think I’m in active labour, but I think I may be getting there.” Being a fourth baby, I knew that being in active labour (from 4cms and regular contractions) to having a baby wasn’t going to be long and I wanted to be in the hospital as I bled last time. They invited me in.

This is probably a good time to give you a bit of background. My 3rd baby was born prem at 34 weeks and I lost more blood than deemed normal. So the advice for me was to have my baby on a consultant led unit as I was “high-risk” of bleeding again. I looked at all my options though and chose to go against this advice after having a conversation with the lead midwife on the birth unit. My last birth, I had polyhydramnios, prematurity, a suspected infection and the cord snapped on the placenta all things that mean you’re more likely to lose more blood. This pregnancy, I had normal waters, a normal size baby and was full term so I didn’t have the same risk factors. With this in mind I chose to give birth on the midwifery led unit and I was supported in this choice.

So back to that Friday evening… I was in the shower. I had my birth ball in the shower too. It was on the bath so that I could lean onto it to have the water on the bottom of my back. I used my breathing here that I’d learnt from hypnobirthing. Counting my in breath and my out breath gave me something to concentrate on and kept me relaxed. Things were going great guns, I was calm, comfortable and getting into the swing of the contractions. My friend arrived and so I got out of the shower and myself and Rob made our way to the birth unit.

It was about 00.30 when we arrived to the birth unit. My midwife was Brenda, she showed us into our room Poppy. It was dimly lit and the pool was half full. I again said to a Brenda that I didn’t think I was quite in labour but knew my contractions were getting there. They were coming every few minutes at this point but they felt manageable. She brought me in some essential oils – Bergamot and Frankincense- on a taper and I got back into the shower leaning over onto the birthing ball. Chui my birth photographer arrived at this point. My only concern here I remember was what happens if this all stops, what happens if I’m just in early labour and I’ve got my friend at my house and Chui’s here. I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time! Silly really looking back as it was obvious I was in labour!

I spent a good hour at least like this in the shower. The next thing that happened was at 02.30 when I had my first vaginal examination. I know it was 02.30 because Rob text Emily at this time who was home with the kids. I still wasn’t sure at this point that it was it… I remember saying to Brenda, what happens if I’m just 2cms. If this was going to be the case I didn’t want to know! Brenda thought that would be unlikely and she was right. It’s funny how much you lose your ability to rationalise in labour! As a midwife, I should’ve been able to recognise the signs but I still had in the back of my mind that I may not be dilating at all! I was 8cms. Happy days! I got gas and air at this point which is when all of the fun started.

Brenda filled the pool and I got in. The water was instantly comforting. It was here that I remember really wanting to take it all in. As pregnant mothers, we are so desperate for this moment, desperate to feel the contractions and to know that after 9 months we are finally going to meet our baby. The labour and the birth we prep for, go to classes, pack 3 suitcases for which is more than what we’d take on holiday, we play it out how we want it to be in our minds but the reality is that it’s all done and dusted in a day. That moment in the pool was a nice one, I really appreciated what was going on, that what I’d been waiting for was actually happening that very night. These thoughts were helped from the fact that I was high as a kite too! I actually told Brenda all of this between contractions. She probs thought I was cuckoo!

It wasn’t long after I’d got into the pool that I’d started to transition. I remember saying “I can’t do this anymore!” Whilst thinking that’s a textbook ‘You’re just about to have a baby comment’ whilst uncontrollably pushing. I can’t remember “mooing” here but Rob assures me it happened! This feeling was overwhelming, I had this full feeling, which would have been her head coming through my pelvis. The only thing that helped this feeling go away was to push. All the signs were telling me I was just about to meet my baby and a few pushes later she was born under the water at 03.31. I got to bring her up out of the water myself. Holding her in front of my face, seeing her scrunched up face, feeling her skin, hearing her little cry and knowing that she was here safe in my arms was the most incredible feeling ever.

All went well after – no bleeding!🙌🏼 and we were back home by 7.30 am for when the other 3 children woke up.

There’s a couple of things that I’m so glad that I did.

1. Getting a birth photographer– I felt like a bit of a diva doing this but now I wish that I did it for all of my births. For me, remembering the birth is so much more important than say a wedding day, yet a wedding photographer is something we see at every wedding! The photos that i have are priceless and Delphi is lucky that she gets to see her first moments in the world. Thank you Chui 🙂

2.Hypnobirthing– Through teaching hypnobirthing I have inadvertently been practising the techniques for a lot longer than my 9 month pregnancy and boy did it pay off. Reinforcing that everything in your birth is a choice, learning the importance of keeping your mind calm and how to control pesky negative thoughts like fear and doubt that always seem to enter our minds meant that this birth was by far my most empowering, calm and magical experience. I could live it with such clarity and for me that was I really wanted, I wanted to be able to remember every minute of it and enjoy it! I’ll write another blog on what techniques I used that were most helpful.

3. Writing it down- this little story completes it for me, it’s something else that means I’ll remember what happened that night.

For me sharing birth stories is important. I want pregnant mothers to know that birth isn’t always the fear-filled, ear- piercing shrieks and painful experiences that you see on TV. It can be empowering, calm and beautiful. My births are by far my biggest accomplishments in life. I look back on this birth especially, and it was everything I wanted it to be and I would happily do it all again in a heartbeat.

“My body knew exactly what it was doing and I remember thinking, ‘my body can do this. I was built to do this’.” Danni’s Birth Story.

Birth StoriesThe Great British Birth Off

In 1982 my mother gave birth to me with the assistance of hypnobirthing. She told me the birth experience was beautiful and she was in control throughout. 30 years later, I was in labour with my first child and I thought my experience would be similar to my mums. That I would be in control. That I would enjoy the experience of bringing a new life into the world. Well, the birth was awful. I felt I was not in control of my body. I was terrified. I kept my eyes shut throughout. I demanded all drugs going and completely lost all faith in myself. It took me a long time to recover physically and mentally. Hence, the long gap of five years before we decided, it was time to try for another.
 
Determined to be stronger this time and take control again, I was recommended a taster session in Hypnobirthing. I only did NCT previously and didn’t look into Hypnobirthing properly. The course was incredible. I talked through my first experience with other mums and the wonderful Beth from Bump to Baby Chapter. I came away from the meeting feeling empowered and ready to go.
 
Between the hypnobirthing course and yoga classes, I learnt how to breath, relax and focus. I also met some absolutely fabulous women. I felt that I was stripping back everything medical thrown at me and remembering, as a woman, my body is built to grow a human. An actual human AND its built to give birth. That I should not be scared of the birth, my body will know what to do and I just need to breath, focus and work with it and my baby to get through labour.
 
9 months and 3 days later, I woke up, got my daughter ready for school and felt a ‘twinge’. The period cramp kind of twinge. The ‘oh yes its finally happening…oh sh*t its finally happening’ kind of twinge. I was meeting a friend for coffee that morning, but as I got to her house, the cramps stopped.
 
I cracked on with my day as usual, but let the husband know that things might be on the move soon…at some point.
 
I demanded a curry for tea. But I couldn’t eat it. Not like me at all to refuse food. 9pm came and the cramps returned. We called ahead to my parents who live an hour away, to get over quickly to help look after my daughter. They arrived just after 10pm. I sat bouncing on my ball, visualising, breathing, eating (to keep the energy levels up). Had a few cat naps and by 3am, I was ready to head into hospital.
 
We arrived at the birthing centre in Gloucester and I explained to the midwife, I wanted a hypnobirth. At this point, everything was manageable. VERY uncomfortable, but manageable. I walked about the room, had a bath and ate some more. But not much was happening with the contractions. They were remaining at the same constant, manageable level of pain. At shift change over we had another midwife. She asked if it was OK to examine me. I agreed. Unfortunately, I hadn’t progressed any further. She gave me another stretch and sweep and said I had two options…. Go home or go out for a few hours. I felt a complete failure and just wanted to go home. So we packed everything up. Walked out of the birth centre door and WHACK a MASSIVE surge. I stopped, cried, breathed and walked further….WHACK….another surge. This happened all the way to the car park. My husband asked what I wanted to do, but I said I had been told to go home, so we were going home.
 
The journey back to Cheltenham was interesting. I cursed every road bump and pot hole.
 
As we pulled onto the drive, I thought the baby was about to pop out. I made it to our downstairs toilet, goodness knows how, but I made it. I had a quick wee and then said, HOSPITAL. Well, I screamed HOSPITAL at my husband. I didn’t want to go back to Glos and to be honest, I felt like we wouldn’t make it.
 
We headed straight to Cheltenham where we were greeted by a midwife at the front entrance. Lisa was incredible. She was the calming, soothing, chilled out midwife I needed. My husband set up the music, so I could listen to the tracks from my yoga classes. I plonked my massive (I was massive) tired body in the birthing pool and I cried. The water was so relaxing and relieved my body straight away. I don’t think I have ever felt such a sensation of relief. I felt, safe.
 
The contractions remained intense, however, things progressed slowly. I was in the water, on my side out of the water, leaning against the wall, leaning against the husband, on the loo…everything. It was now the afternoon and I was exhausted. My breathing techniques were being helped by gas and air, but I had reached my limit. I asked for my mum…which I never do. I needed some time to recoup ready for the final leg. So they gave me diamorphine. It took the spikey edge off every surge. I was able to have a snooze in between the waves and my hubby even managed to eat a chicken sandwich. Which, I wasn’t aware of.
 
When the final moment came, I was led on my side, legs, arms, bum entwined with midwife and hubby. I felt like I needed a massive poop. I didn’t experience this sensation in the birth of my daughter, as I had an epidural and by this point had my legs in stirrups in the operating theatre. She was stuck and needed a little helping hand to get out. But, this time round I could feel everything. My body knew exactly what it was doing and I remember thinking, ‘my body can do this. I was built to do this’. Lots of banshee screaming erupted (I had been vocalising my surges most of the birth, but this was on another level of loudness) I could feel the head coming. It didn’t sting. It didn’t hurt. It felt like a HUGE relief, finally I was at the end of this. I was finally going to meet my baby. One last push and out my gorgeous baby came. All 9lb 9 of him! No wonder he had taken so long to get down the birth canal.
 
My midwife, lisa was such a special lady. She helped calm me down and remind me I can do it in moments when I lost my positive thoughts. She understood hypnobirthing techniques and even had the music we were listening to on her phone. It felt like we were meant to give birth in Cheltenham in the midwifey unit. This was the birth I wanted first time round.
 
The birth was amazing. Long, painful but amazing. I had given birth to an absolutely beautiful baby boy. I did it naturally (apart from the diamorphine pain relief, which I think helped to save my husbands blood circulation to his hands. They were squeezed a lot during labour) The hypnobirthing along with meeting incredible women, reminded me of what I had achieved with my daughter and what I CAN achieve. Our bodies are incredible, we have got this. 
  

Photo credits Chui King Li Photography

My husband delivered our baby, alone, with no medical help, on our kitchen floor….

Birth Stories
The stuff of nightmares, right?  Yet this is exactly how our beautiful baby boy came into the world, & let me first say it was one of the most amazing, surreal yet beautiful experiences of my life.  Hypnobirthing played a key role in this, albeit in a rather unexpected way.  But first, let me take you back a year or so. . .I should explain that my first labour with my daughter Vienna – although not traumatic (at least not at the time) – certainly wasn’t without complication.  In short, I was induced due to suspected (and later confirmed) broken waters.  When I was examined 7 hours later after contracting through the night to be told I was only 3cm dilated, I screamed out for an epidural, which was duly carried out.  A pain free afternoon of passed before it was time to push. . .but an episiotomy following a third degree tear followed & not far behind, two blood transfusions, one fainting episode and a number of unsuccessful attempts to insert a cannula.  At the time, it was lovely – painless due to the epidural, exciting, and of course, all but (temporarily) forgotten when I met my beautiful baby girl.  But. . .recovery after was tough.  Really tough.  I was a first time mum, my tear wound became infected, I couldn’t sit down.  I was bruised & blue from the spinal, I felt blue inside for a little while, and sleep deprived to the hilt. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and the more time passed, the more I wished so much I could remember the whole labour, birth and post birth experience with more clarity and positivity.
So, with my second pregnancy, I thought a little harder and a little longer about my birthing plan, and what kind of experience I hoped for.
I knew that I wanted to do as much as I could, go as far as I could, without intervention and within my four walls of home.  I knew I wanted to be calm, focused and present.  I knew I wanted to birth with confidence and without the fear that is so often associated with labouring.  Fear that I had felt first time around.  Of course, I wasn’t adverse to any type of pain relief or intervention if that was required for the safe delivery of my baby, but given the choice, I wanted a less invasive experience.  I did a little reading, then a little more, watched vlogs, read blogs. . .& the more I read, the more I became enthralled with the concept of hypnobirthing.  The mere idea that birthing a baby didn’t have to be painful, and that mindset could help to achieve this drew me in.  I downloaded the Maggie Howell & Natal Hypnotherapy series (there are numerous tracks depending on what type of birth you have planned or are hoping for), & I would highly recommend them.  I started practising some of the techniques from around the 30 week mark – late to the party I realise, but I was keen to give it a go.  Work was hectic, life was hectic. . .practising the techniques was almost therapy, a form of meditation.  I looked forward to slipping into the bath with my hypnobirthing track for company.  At around 35 weeks, I took it up a notch, sticking my Laura Ashley post it notes all around our home, with my affirmations of choice slowly seeping into my subconscious mind, day after day.  I’d chant them in my head on my way to work, walking the dogs, in the shower. . .hell, everywhere!  I still remember the feeling of pure luxury padding up to bed at 9.30pm on a Saturday night in December with a hot chocolate, my hypnobirthing download & ‘I welcome each surge’ on repeat in my head.
Friday 24th February, started like any other.  I was 5 days overdue, & after a week of pretty much no action despite a painful sweep (which I openly swore I would never endure again) and my kind midwife declaring ‘I think the next time I see you will be for your 4-day home check’, I had resigned myself to ‘going the distance’ and having to be induced at the 12 day overdue mark.  So, on I plodded, dropping V at childcare, walking the dogs then heading into our local town going about my business as usual.  Like the days that preceded it, I had no real pains or signs anything was about to go down.  Until. . .I tripped over my own feet and took a tumble on the street, luckily managing to land on my left elbow and protecting my precious cargo.  Ego bruised, I dusted myself on & abated the concerned passers by.  The action started soon after this – I recall sitting in a rather relaxed state having my lashes & brows tinted and suddenly feeling very period crampy!  Could it be?  Wandering around the markets a little later, it slowly dawned on me that yep, this could be it!  I felt. . . .excited!  Really, really excited!
By the time I had driven to the local supermarket, the surges were coming reasonably regularly, around every 5 minutes lasting 30 seconds each.  That said, they still felt very gentle and manageable.  I called my sister as I wandered up the bread aisle, followed swiftly by a call to the maternity unit to give them the heads up that I ‘may’ be in later.  I had a surge whilst talking to the midwife on the other end of the line, but was able to talk and breathe through it pretty well.  I then drove to yet more shops for an all important iced drink (hell, nothing and nobody was going to get in the way of satisfying my craving for ice) and the surges continued.  I continued to breathe, breathe & breathe some more, up and out through each one.  I focused intently on the break between each surge, and the respite and pleasure that bought me.  It worked!  By the time I had reached home at 6.30pm, the surges were uncomfortable but manageable.  I popped myself into the bath (which I’d called ahead to pre-order the running of) and settled in for the night.  The warmth of the water was manna from heaven; I started to relax into my body and continued to breath through each surge as calmly as I could, sometimes counting in my head for effect.  I genuinely felt at peace with my body; it knew what to do, it was capable of doing this thing.  We could do this.  We were doing this.  Upon request, my husband Kev stuck a random selection of my faithful, dog-eared post it notes in my eye line & I stared at them intently, eyes burning, breathing getting more focused and intending.
Some of my favourites included:
’Every surge brings my baby closer.’
‘My body knows how to give birth.’
‘I am present.  I am doing this.  We are doing this’
‘Breathe in love, breathe out pain’

I was deeply relaxed and in my zone.  Kev affectionally recalls me telling HIM to relax when he dared to ask what time I might be ready to go to hospital!  Continuing to fuss around me, I sent him out for an all-important carb fest.

The strange thing about labour is, although brief and fleeting, you feel very little in between surges. This kept me going for a long while, but the tightenings started to get more and more regular, and longer – up to 50-60 seconds with very little break in between.  Whilst Kev was out doing the chip run and with our first born sound asleep unawares upstairs, I felt an overwhelming wave of nausea sweep over me.  Changing my position sorted in nicely, but with the surges now coming thick and fast, I managed to snaffle a few chips in-between, and on we ploughed.  Eyes closed, humming, breathing, counting.  Warm bubbles on my back, my senses were engaged & I recall feeling. . .liberated.  Present.  Relaxed.  I was labouring, I was calm and everything was going to be ok.  We were going to meet our baby, and soon by the measure of things!  After timing a few more surges, thoughts turned to making the transition to hospital.  Kev made a phone call to the maternity unit and we were good to go.  Or so I thought!   Jumping out of the bath, I hopped upstairs, threw on a dress, grabbed my hospital bag, dashed back downstairs, leant on the dining room table through another surge – the most uncomfortable yet – before our lovely neighbour arrived to take care of our daughter.  I was still able to breathe through each surge but my vocal pitch was cranking up a notch by this stage.  What she must have thought at that time!
Then it came, the needing to pee sensation.  Which wasn’t needing to pee at all.  Was it needing to poop?  Nope.  I sat down on the loo and immediately jumped up again – cue waters breaking.  Not a drip, or a splash; a gush.  I immediately started to feel immense pressure as my body drew our baby down.  In that very moment, it dawned on me that hospital wasn’t going to happen.  It was happening and happening now.   ‘Oh my goodness, we aren’t going to make it’ (or words to that effect, think slightly stronger) left my lips in a less than hushed tone.  The hospital is only a 15-minute drive away from our home but alas, my body and baby were ready.  Yikes.  I knew what I had to do.  Hold on to a surface, breathe through and push.  Stop screaming, stop shouting, focus the energy to where it is needed.  For the first time in my life, I actually listened to the voice in my head.  I zoned in and breathed it through.  The immense pressure was like nothing I had ever felt before, but it was manageable, my body was doing it’s job.  I had such clarity of thought at that time, completely unthinkable pre-epidural with labour number one.
Kev called 999, who promptly transferred his call through to the fantastic midwifery team at our local hospital, one of whom was lucky enough to talk him through how to deliver a baby!  Seriously, a crash course.  There was talk of a cord around his neck, and how to de-tangle.  There was desperate pleas to ‘get her onto the floor, she needs to be on the floor’.  There were warnings of ‘he’ll be a slippy little fella, get ready to catch’.  There were demands of ‘fetch towels, make it soft, get her as comfy as you possible can’.  My neighbour was hushed into the sitting room to babysit the dogs.  All the while, I was sweating, panting, silently screaming but maintaining my breathing & letting my body birth our baby.  With the midwife on speaker phone and Kev doing what had to be done right there right now, Bodhi Ray Stallion was born at 20:24, on our kitchen floor, surrounding by various and random cushions, throws, blankets and towels.  There was blood, mess, water everywhere.  It didn’t matter.  Nothing else mattered.  Our boy was with us.  Against all odds, he was delivered safely by an alpha male with not a day of medical training in him.  All credit to the utterly amazing midwives coaching him through, they were absolute stars.  So to, the love I had for my husband grew ten fold in that very moment.  Kev is and always has been my hero – he has overcome so much in his life and is the strongest, kindest, most selfless person I know – but this really had pushed him to the limit.  He was utterly amazing.  inspiring, even.  Our real life super hero.  The sense of calm he emitted, his confidence and focus was just. . .wonderful.
An ambulance eventually arrived, & with a little help from my now nervous wreck of a husband and a kind but rather nervous looking paramedic, I was helped onto the stretcher where my placenta was delivered.  My knees were knocking together so hard I could almost hear my bones.  There was talk of shock.  I just felt. . .happy.  Tearful and emotional, but in a ‘look what we’ve just done’ kind of way.  It was then time for a little trip to the hospital to get us all checked over.  At that point, I could have just crawled upstairs to bed with my precious little bundle but, needs must.  Being wheeled out of our house was an experience I’m not in a rush to repeat, but in that very moment, all i remember was laughing nervously, cooing over our just born & silently praying they wouldn’t remove him from my grip for the ride.  Thankfully, he was allowed to travel with me, so we cuddled in tight for the trip.  With the ambulance driving at 15mph, one of the three kind paramedics that tended to us held my hand and chatted away.  I was flitting between shaking like a leaf and acting utterly delirious, but quite frankly she could have told me she was travelling to space the very next day & I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.  My delicious babe in arms was with me, skin to skin, and he smelt so good, it felt so good.  My precious cargo, bumped from the inside earlier on in the day, now clinging onto me on the outside as we bumped along in an ambulance.  I will probably never again experience a feeling like it.  I couldn’t stop shaking, through tears of elation and joy.  I was on a cloud, and really my surroundings were just noise.

I arrived and following the customary checks, needed a couple of stitches so was given a quick local anaesthetic and a little bit of gas and air.  Kev left the hospital at around half past midnight, and I was given a chicken and leek pie with a ham cheese and pickle sandwich.  I’m not a big meat eater, but hell it tasted so good! It’s funny the things you remember.  At this point, baby Blue – as we affectionately named him in lieu of an actual name (we didn’t actually name him until he was almost three weeks old) – was still sleeping contently next to me, and I spent the next hour or so gazing dreamily at him,

delirious.
 Amidst all of this ‘action’, Blue had his first breastfeed with much help from the fantastic midwives to get him latched on and feeding.  It was just magical.  What of me at this stage?  Well, my chest and shoulders were aching because of my rather tenuous position on our kitchen floor.  A bit sore of course but just. . .exhilarated, pumped, fantastic.  We had done it!  With no pain relief!  At home!  Even at that early stage, I concluded it to be one of the most amazing, surreal experiences of my life.  I felt so proud of what we achieved together.  A little while later, around midnight, I remember taking a shower, washing my hair with the free Persil fabric softener sachet given in a random Bounty pack lying around (in the crazy rush, I forgot to pop my everyday bits into my hospital bag) & brushing my teeth with toothpaste on my finger but I felt AMAZING!  Seriously, amazing. 
Things then moved quickly & formulaically. . .we were moved to delivery suite, two more breast feeds followed, we dozed on and off through the night, in a sleepy daze of happiness.  We stayed in hospital for two further nights at my request to get much needed support with breastfeeding.  Monday came, we were discharged, and on our way home, popped to the supermarket for supplies.  I was walking, I was talking, I felt almost human!  No scrap that, I felt blooming invincible, if a little vulnerable – is it just me, or does that feeling naturally follow on from carrying such precious cargo within your person for the 40 weeks prior?
The days that followed were simply blissful, spent at home, just the four of us – sometimes just the two of us – getting to know our beautiful new addition.  It is no exaggeration to say my second experience of labour, birth and post birth couldn’t have been more different to my first. I was euphoric, on cloud nine.  My body was sore, but recovered quickly.  I felt strong.  Bodhi was, and still is, the most content, relaxed baby.  From day one, he has fed well, slept well, and has been happy to be dragged along to whatever we happen to be doing (which is just as well, as having two under two is pretty full on).  I don’t know whether we can attribute his relaxed personality to his birth, but my husband certainly likes to weave it into his story!

I wanted to share our positive experience simply because positivity and mindset are the pillars of hypnobirthing.  The principals that I learned & adopted throughout my labour and before it made my birth experience relaxed, enjoyable even. I never intended to give birth at home, but nature has a funny way.  I wanted to do ‘as much as I could’ on my own, and by golly I did!  It was a slight unintended consequence of my rather relaxed state, and I would not in any way recommend a planned home birth without the presence and supervision of medical professionals (sorry Kev, as much as you like to think it – you’re still not a qualified midwife nor are you ever likely to be!), yet I reflect on the birth with a sense of achievement and empowerment, and with a big old lump in my throat.  It was everything I could have hoped for and more.  Practising hypnobirthing, even for the short time that I did, focused my mind on how positive and beautiful labour and childbirth can be, and it certainly delivered this for me.
There are many quotes & sound bites given on the topic of hypnobirthing, but I thought it apt to sign off with one of my favourite, most empowering pieces of advice:
“The point of hypnobirthing is not birthing without pain. The point is to birth with love and confidence, without fear, without unnecessary intervention, and with a supportive team who shares your birth vision. That is the definition of a successful hypnobirth. The wonderful side-effect of this type of gentle, mother-centered, empowered birth is more pleasure and less pain.” – Lauralyn Curtis HBCE
Thank you to Emma for sharing her beautiful story and for her vision-That birth doesn’t have to be a painful experience- at all. Women should hear birth stories that empower them and tap in to their strength within to achieve a birth filled with positivity and where they felt in control. We hope that you have been inspired by this story. You can check out Emmas instagram of her and her 2 beautiful children here

Lottie Keble-Wyatt Birth Story

Birth StoriesEventsThe Great British Birth Off

I was so over pregnancy. So over being a waddling, water hog unable to lie on my tummy and restricted by my own body. Ungrateful mummy to be, just desperate to meet my little girl and hold her in my arms. The longing to see her was a constant gnawing ache and when that wait went over the finish line, well frankly I was like an ants nest on the attack. For my personal sanity I taught my final spin class at 40 weeks and hoped to ride her out… but no cigar… no little baby.

The greatest achievement of my ridiculous life so far came into the world three days late, doing even better than her mother when it comes to poor time keeping, and that, you gorgeous people, is my focus in this blog… my daughter’s helter skelter journey head first into life.

Before I go into full gory details I want you to hold this thought in your mind, especially if you are a preggo and bossing it but worried about labour… I would genuinely a squillion, million times go through my labour again over being pregnant, genuinely.

It started off as a hope, I hoped my waters had broken but it turns out they hadn’t. However, the midwives were concerned about the lack of fluid surrounding baby girl so it was agreed induction by pessary would be tried. My body was so desperate to meet my girl though that it got too excited, hit overdrive, and intense contractions started after about ten minutes. Buglet wasn’t happy and had a “braddy”, queue panic and me being prepped for an emergency c-section with hubby and I staring at each other super worried about this little life that we had created. Initially I had thought the midwife had said she was having a “paddy”, assuming she was just kicking off, and having a tantrum, thinking like mother like daughter, but, turns out her heart rate had dropped and things needed to pick up quickly. The little tease did pick up and the pessary was whipped out and c-section aborted.

Personally, I wanted to do everything to avoid a c-section so I sobbed with relief. Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with a c-section, just a lot wrong with me and an incapability to stay still and not be an idiot when it comes to any healing process. I just knew if I had one I would be a nightmare and would put my family through constant worry that I would get an infected wound, whereas for some unknown reason, natural labour I felt would put m more in tune with my body and its capabilities. I really can’t explain the logic, as there is none, but that’s just how my thought processing works.

I was then induced very slowly by a drip and it was really at this point that I fell in love with every midwife and member of team there, especially the incredible Nina Kellow, who held my hand while my husband stroked my head during my terror at having my waters manually broken. It’s amazing how fear is simply a manifestation of the unknown, the mind always imagines a monster when given the chance to brood and worry, and that is where education from antenatal classes combined with lovely, caring midwives are essential, with their ability to swoop down and knock those demons away.

For four hours I laboured, breathing my way through contractions and using gas and air… even hubby had a cheeky sneak of it! Then after about two, I asked for an epidural and it was dreamy! I couldn’t feel the pain and the sickness of the gas and air was a distant memory. I was checked after four hours and had barely dilated any more… there was a history of a stubborn cervix, too scarred to budge so the lovely midwife and registrar gave it a helping hand as they knew how much I wanted to push her out myself and I was allowed another four hours. I’ve got to say all through his my man was a super hero… he did not leave my side, we lost all concept of night and day, we were just a team, I felt so supported, so safe and so loved. He cocooned our little family and together we watched our chrysalis reveal a butterfly. My parents, the amazing, Houdinis that they are, also dropped by, and seeing their faces, especially my mother’s, as my father was so close to the furthest wall from the bed that you’d be forgiven for mistaking him for the latest wallpaper design, made my tenacity harden and my mind strengthen. Still, Dad asking if I had watched “warship” mid contraction was answered with an eye rolling “bit busy now dad”.

So another four hours had passed and blessedly my cervix was fully dilated and I was given two hours to rest before the final push. Hubby took a towel and laid in the bathroom and I chatted to the latest amazing fairy godmother of a midwife in a surreal limbo knowing my daughter was just a couple of hours away from meeting her mummy and daddy.

When the big push came I had the cheerleading squad on hand. All the team were encouraging me to push, my husband was telling me how proud he was of me, I felt such a lioness as I pushed with all my might till I felt my eyes might pop out of my head. Little one teased again with a ‘Braddy’ so it ended up being forceps and an episiotomy, but I will never forget that final push. The overwhelming urge to get it done, to see my girl, to hold my husband’s hand, to end the labour, it’s like a cacophony of emotions coupled with a raw, primal instinct. That last push, oh that last push, I roared like a tiger and the registrar pulled with the forceps like an alligators death roll and my girl, my girl, my baby girl, was there, she was there; the IVF, the arguments, the heartaches, the failures, the issues of pregnancy, the months of going into the nursery fingering tiny baby grows wondering if I would ever get to meet her, the nights of tears, the nights of anger, the fears and the nerves, everything collided together and exploded in the moment I got to hold her in my arms, this perfect little creation, I looked into my husband’s eyes as if to say “look what I’ve done, we did it, we made it.”

That night at 00:50 on the 13th April 2017, Scarlett Evelyn Keble-Wyatt came into our lives, and she totally and utterly completes me, I have a love for her that overwhelms me. She has made my husband a Father and I am so unbelievably proud to say she has made my dreams come true for I’m a Mother now, and from now on it’s me and my girl.

Lottie Keble- Wyatt a.k.a Just The Girl Fitness is bringing a new exercise class called BABIES AT THE BARRE to Cheltenham. She will be hosting a Barre exercise class for all mamas who have young babies. Cheltenham and Gloucester Sling library will also be there to provide you and support you with choosing a sling that suits you and your baby. The launch of these new classes is on 25th June at the Wholefood Market Cheltenham. For more info or to get your tickets visit here.

Do It Like a Mother – Welcoming Rory

Birth StoriesThe Great British Birth Off

I often tell my clients that no two pregnancies or labours are the same. So I shouldn’t have been surprised by my recent experience, but somehow I was caught off guard. I imagined when the birth came round there would be an element of predictability in how it would unfold. Not so. You can read about the arrival of my first born here.

This little tinker had plans of his own, looking to start as he means to go on I imagine, make his mark, step out of his brother’s shadow.

On the surface, it seems like it started at 1.30 am on Wednesday. This is when my waters went. (An unexpected start). But no. NO. This labour began at least 2 weeks before, in my mind at least, and let’s face it I’m the only one with a reliable view on this. Prodromal labour. I knew about it, of course. When it began, I wrote about the importance of framing it positively as warming up, rather than a slowing down of our expected experience. That was all well and good, but as the days ticked by, it became harder and harder to stay positive and grateful.

A week into this, the Thursday that was our EDD, I was quite convinced that the gentle surges I had been experiencing had stepped up a notch, and that baby was on his way. Begged hubs to stay home as I was “sure”. And then at some point, everything died off. AGAIN. And so it went on over the following 5 days.

There was a gradual building in intensity to what I was feeling- surging, period type back aches, nausea, the other thing, emotional outbursts, etc. I could actually feel my cervix softening.

Tuesday evening, the saga continued and off we went to bed. Around 1.30, Louis woke up to come in our bed (semi- regular occurrence). As I settled myself back into bed after the obligatory bladder empty, I experienced a couple of these now familiar surges, and thought about what could be holding me and baby back. I reflected on a wonderful EFT session I had a couple of months before with my fantastic friend Gemma Bennett, where we worked through some of my negative emotions and musings surrounding the pregnancy. So I started to speak to myself- the positive, affirming statements I could hear her making in my memory, filling my mind. I smiled to myself, relieved by the release, and in moments, felt that first trickle of waters. Hurrah! The mind really is a fricking powerful thing.

I alerted Nick, as I felt that with such a long build up, things might happen quite quickly. When I got to the bathroom I was relieved to see the waters totally clear, and headed downstairs to get set up.

For my part, this meant getting the snack zone ready, and gathering my comforts. My essential oils, hot water bottle and candles. I also emptied the dishwasher so that there were clean bits for us and midwives and anyone else who might turn up. Through this time the surges continued to appear sporadically, but I could move comfortably through them.

Around 2.30 we settled down to watch some comedy (Peter Kay’s tour that didn’t tour, if you’re interested). I sat on my ball through this time, a blanket wrapped around me and hot water bottle on hand as we waited for the house to warm up a little.

There was no pattern whatsoever emerging. 2 surges might come along within 30 seconds of each other, often very  intense and shortish (20-40 seconds). Then I might go 15 minutes with none. Then maybe a few long but gentler ones (60-90 seconds) with 5 minutes in between. Totally random.

After a good laugh and oxytocin hike with the comedy, we put my Calm Birth School mp3s on as I knelt on the floor leaning forward onto my ball, rocking and rolling with the surges. I picked this up at our HAPPy Bumps workshops, it’s one of Jade’s faves and I know why. It was nice to take some weight off of my back, and I felt my pelvis widening  and loosening.

I think this was when Nick started filling the pool. I had no intention of getting in any time soon, but our boiler can be wimpy  and we hadn’t done a wet run so didn’t want to chance it. He covered it over to keep the heat in and we carried on.

I was drinking lots, (and munching fruit and oat cookies) and frequently needed to empty my bladder. Each trip up to the toilet brought a good few intensive surges.

I felt tired, wanted to lay down and rest, but as soon as I attempted to lay, even sideways on the sofa, I was very uncomfortable and sprung back up. Needed a new plan for rest, so sat on the ball and got my light touch massage from Nick. The surges continued irregularly, and I embraced some clary sage action (inhaling) in an attempt to gain some momentum. I also found it really helpful to breathe in lavender oil from a tissue during the most intense ones. I’ve used lavender a lot through the pregnancy to aid relaxation, and have conditioned myself to calm with it.

I had called my mum as she had a 3 hour drive to get to us and be on hand for Louis, (who had thankfully remained asleep) and around 5.45am, she and my dad arrived.

I wonder if this allowed me to relax a little more, knowing that if he woke up we had help, as although still very erratic, the stronger surges got stronger still after they arrived. I realised that walking around seemed to be the best way to gain regular progress, so wandered around the living room in tiny laps and my body responded.

Each surge was now fairly significant, requiring me to stand and sway, swivelling my hips, bending my knees instinctively, listening to my body and seeking the most comfortable posture, and for the first time begin to vocalise through them alongside the breathing. During these, Nick would stand by me so I could lean into him while he stroked my back and neck and offered me encouragement.

Around 6.15, I told Nick I thought it was time to call for a midwife. I honestly had no idea how long things might go on for, but was reaching a level of intensity that spelt progress. Each surge now had more and more power, although they continued to vary in length and frequency.

Within about half an hour, 2 midwives, Maria (who had already welcomed a baby earlier in her shift) and Denise arrived, but explained there would be shift changeovers soon, so we would likely see 2 more faces.

Maria suggested she do some checks, and we did my bp sitting on the ball, choosing a moment immediately after a surge to lay back on the sofa for baby to be checked. I had to jump up pretty quickly as another came along, but all was well.

I was clear that I didn’t want any vaginal examinations all being well, and this was no issue.

I think around 7, Denise left and Jill arrived, although I didn’t see her at first. I’d gone back to leaning over my ball on the floor, as Nick reminded me I had seemed to make good progress in this position. I was keen to get things going as I could feel myself tiring- let’s face it, even if we just got up at 1.30am to sit round chilling we would be sleepy again by 7.

I could hear Louis up and about with my mum and dad upstairs, playing happily, it was great to know he was settled.

Leaning over that ball, being stroked through the surges, breathing and ahhhh-ing along, I remember saying, when asked, that I couldn’t tell if it would be another 6 hours or if I would birth within 10 minutes. But I suspected I was in transition. I could feel the adrenaline seeping in, a slight sense of vulnerability.

Around 7.30 I think, another surge came, the very beginnings of the urge to bear down appeared, and the remainder of my waters gushed out. I instinctively called out for the midwives who were catching up on the playroom to come in. I had been really happy to have privacy and space up until this point, but now wanted them close.

They came and checked the colour of the waters, everything still looked good. I looked to them for guidance- part of me wanted to get in the pool, something was holding me back. Looking back I think it was hearing my mum and dad getting Louis ready to go out for an 8 o’clock brekkie. I think I knew once I got in it would be all go, and would have liked him out the house. But my body was taking over, and around 7.45 I stripped off, (pausing with a surge that soaked Nick’s feet…) before being helped in.

I was pleasantly surprised  by the warmth of the water, it felt so good. As I looked to settle myself into a comfortable posture, Nick suggested he would get in to raise the water level and support me. I was really happy with this, and as he dripped the water up and down my back through the next surge, I settled onto my knees spread far apart, leaning forwards with my hands on the base of the pool and my face resting on the side.

This was definitely it- not too soon to be in the pool…

These were now some serious surges. Louis popped his head round the door, and Nick told him I was having a wash… He was just about to leave the house, when the next one came. I breathed through the rising of it, then the primal urge to roar kicked in as I felt the baby’s head descend. Mouth wide open, sphincter law in mind, it felt great to let go of that energy.

I spent the next half hr or so breathing, ahhhhing, roaring, horse-lips-ing, swaying through the surges. Maria was excellent at gently reminding me to check if the sounds were helping me, sometimes they were, sometimes it was better to return to the calm breathing. “Ride the wave, listen to your body”, she told me quietly and gently.

Her kind encouragement by my face, Nick behind me stroking my back and trickling water on me, telling me how well it was going and reminding me to relax. I was reassured knowing Jill was keeping an eye on what was happening, and gave me guidance when I asked for it. I felt encircled in support, calmness and confidence.

Maria intermittently checked baby’s heartbeat and reassured me he was consistently calm.

As my body worked hard to bring baby down, there were moments of fear, for sure. Pain, definitely. A sense that I wanted it to be over. Adrenaline was doing its work to bring that vital surge of energy. These moments of extreme intensity, came and went throughout this period, in between I was calmed by visualising my calming colour, by Nick’s reminder of my favourite affirmation- “My surges cannot be stronger then me, because they are me”, by various calming breathing techniques, whatever felt right in the moment.

I never felt I was pushing, only ever that I was allowing my body’s natural reflex to kick in.

When Nick said afterwards that I’d not even asked about gas and air that I considered this- it had genuinely never crossed my mind. Although the pain was significant in those final 20 minutes, I never had a sense that I needed anything extra to manage it. I knew I had the strength to absorb the sensations, I can even say I enjoyed the pain of those moments- I know it sounds odd. It was a productive sensation, it told me I was soon to meet my baby.

It told me I had achieved so much, that the calmness and confidence of the past 6+ hours were a real experience of a complete labour. Up until this period, I must admit to wondering whether I could really be coping so well, whether the trickery of the weeks of prodromal labour was drawing on, and I might only be establishing.

I felt his head emerging, then retreating as I waited for the next surge, my body gradually accommodating him. I had doubts and called out “I don’t feel like there’s enough room!” And was reassured by Jill, “there always is, your body will find a way”.

As the next surge came, I felt the head crown, and cleared my mind to let my body entirely take control. The water really eased the sensation, and I was reminded to pause if I needed to. I just waited, let go, and let my body do its thing.

Eventually, I heard Jill say that the head was out, but this was confusing- I’d been waiting for the relief of closing a little around the neck, but it never came. I later learnt this was because he had emerged compound- superman style with his hand on his head. This also explains why I also shouted out “someone is pushing him back in!” As I felt fingers on my perineum his of course, and my body just holding off the final surges to allow him to rotate a little.

I’m glad no one told me this in that moment- no good could’ve come of knowing this! I felt it was another mark of excellent midwifery care.

In a few moments, the surging returned, the baby’s body started to slip down, and I felt Jill and Nick support him on his way out.

I didn’t turn round immediately, I felt I needed a moment to absorb what had happened. When I then looked over my shoulder, it was so strange and wonderful to see Nick holding our baby. Watching him falling in love with this perfect vernixy bundle. Realising his own part in this experience- it would be wrong to say he supported me, it felt more like an absolute team effort- totally in it together.

“Give me the baby!!”. As I climbed over the cord and Nick handed him to me, the rush was incredible. We sat huddled together, in awe and in love. These moments are a bit of a blur, the thinking mind obscured by the haze of the hormones. I just remember sitting there cuddling, with the midwives watching on quietly, feeling so grateful.

After some time, Jill showed us that the cord had stopped pulsating, and suggested we clamp and cut. Nick went to grab some dry clothes so that he could cut the cord then take the baby whilst I got out. I ordered in the paracetamol- people weren’t kidding when they warned me that the after pains with number 2 could be strong.

I was happy to get out of the pool to deliver the placenta, I wanted to move towards warm cuddles with my baby, and a more normal situation for Louis to come home to. I was helped out of the pool into the sofa, laid back ready to drop the placenta off the edge (seriously, this is the detail we are doing). Nick sat next to me cradling Rory so that we were all close. But the reclining was uncomfortable- once again, I just knew I needed to get up.

So I stood, leant forwards slightly with my hands on my thighs. Jill checked the tautness of the cord, and suggested I might try a little push. I did and it was more than enough…

Placenta and surrounding products launched to the floor like a rocket (into awaiting bag to be checked and put aside for encapsulation). Spattered Nick’s legs- they really went through it…

I was delighted to achieve a natural 3rd stage, and desperate to get back to holding my baby.

But I had a feeling I had torn during the birth, which Jill confirmed. Not surprising given that superman presentation entrance by baby. I prayed for second degree that would keep me at home to get sorted.

Wahhhhhh- 3a tear was diagnosed, and an ambulance was called to transfer us in. Obviously it was a huge disappointment to leave the comfort of our home and abandon those early family moments I had dreamt about. I will write another time about the difficulties I experienced given how overstretched the postnatal unit seemed to be, and how this has affected our journey, as I think it’s important to recognise. This early postnatal period is often overlooked, and my experience has given me food for thought about how I can support my mamas more comprehensively going forward. But I’ll save this for later.

Because this is about the most empowering experience of my life. The contrast between this, and the arrival of my first little love, was incredible. This time, I had much more good luck- no bleeding, wonderful midwives and timings that worked out just perfectly. Both were hypnobirths. In some ways, I leant on the techniques more in Louis’s birth because things were more difficult. Everything that was good about his birth was because of hypnobirthing.

This time felt like how birth should be when all is well with mother and baby. Felt like I was so deep in the philosophy of what I teach that I didn’t think of it as hypnobirthing, just birthing, naturally dipping into the supportive tools when I needed them. No examinations, no timescales, no rules, no suggestion of drugs, or intervention. It felt like how our ancestors might have done it.

So this post is loooooooonnnnnnnggggg. And when I review it again I’m sure I’ll find more I want to say and add a little in.

As I finish this, I’m on the sofa (right at the site of the placenta deluge) with Rory sleeping on my chest. Breathing in his head, it’s magical and a bit surreal to be just a couple of feet from the spot where he was born.

I am already giddy to bring these refreshed feelings of empowerment to a new set of super parents…

www.doitlikeamother.co.uk

Keri Jarvis is a Mother (of a 3 year old tyrant, and a big fat baby), Wife, Birth Addict (not that she wants to keep doing it forever- thinking 2 littles will be quite enough. But addicted to, obsessed by, totally dedicated to enabling parents to give their babies births that they all feel great about). She has been SO LUCKY to have supported around 150 families in welcoming their babies so far, and she continues to be amazed at the power of a couple who are well prepared and in it together- always in awe of her amazing gang.

Find out more about Keri on Instagram  or Facebook.

 

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Winner of 🌟The Best Pregnancy Support Service in Gloucestershire 2017🌟, The Bump to Baby Chapter has something for everyone. 🌟For expectant couple wanting to know all you need to know about labour, baby and those early days we have midwife led antenatal courses. 🌟For a second or third time mother wanting to birth without fear after a negative birth experience. There’s hypnobirthing one day classes for the busy Mum. 🌟Free blogs with tips on birth and baby for all 🌟Buggy walks in Cheltenham for new mothers to bring the sisterhood in motherhood. So whatever stage of pregnancy and whatever number baby have a look at the page, website and get involved 🌟
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The Bump to Baby Chapter
Hospital Bag Items.

Here is a few of my faves ....

💡Lip balm- Gas and air can make your lips really dry. So can hospitals with their dry air.
💡 Earplugs/Eye mask- This one is useful if you need to spend any time on the antenatal maternity ward eg. induction of labour. Ear plugs are definitely not for after you’ve had the baby!!
💡Flannel/water spray/mini fan - You can get HOT in labour. Also hospitals 🥵
💡Socks- if you have an epidural or spinal. When it wears off your feet can feel cold!

💡 Always pack an extra bag to keep at home for a relative to bring in if you unexpectedly need to stay in for longer

💡 Dads/Partners- Pack yourself a bag too. Think change of clothes, food, toothbrush, food, drinks, food. Paracetamol is also a good one for you to have, hospitals can’t dish out the drugs to Dads and lack of sleep and hospital air can mean headaches.

What were your most used items in labour/birth? Midwife buddy’s - what’s your tips?? Or any pregnant mothers have any hospital bag Qs...

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