Suzanne’s birth story: Physiological birth in public hospital

Suzanne says her experience birthing her three babies was ‘an unexpected ride of self discovery’. Fearful approaching her third labour after two distressing experiences, she read Birth With Confidence and was ‘blown away by how little I knew about the medical system and about birth’. 

During my first pregnancy, I decided to go through the public health system with a GP shared-care health plan. I fell pregnant fairly quickly after a miscarriage and I wanted to ensure that I ‘did everything by the book’. I read every pamphlet, government websites, baby books and attended all the prenatal classes offered at the hospital. I’m a PE and classical ballet teacher – discipline and looking after myself are my forte. I embraced the journey and felt excited to become a mum! Planning the birth was loosely based on information given by the midwives and my GP  –  I felt supported by what was there. Everyone said, ‘Don’t laminate your birth plan’, which sounded very logical and practical at the time. So I guess, my birth plan was to be ‘open to all possibilities’. 

I knew that I wanted to try a vaginal or a ‘normal’ physiological birth, however, I was not against a cesarean, a decision based on my own birth. I was born by an emergency caesarian in 1985. In a nutshell: after several hours of labour my mother only dilated 2 cm and as a result of the epidural, my heart rate plummeted in minutes – I was in distress. The scene described to me sounded like a movie: the alarm went off, my mother was wheeled into surgery with the obstetrician cutting her stomach on the move. As a result, my face was cut during the incision to get me out and till this day, a faint scar remains on my left cheek. As you can imagine, my father was horrified; ‘what if they cut her eye?’ He asked the doctor, retelling the story to me when I was young and then again when I was pregnant. My mother told me that she suffered from ‘baby blues’, which is no surprise given her experience. During my pregnancy, an enormous part of me worried, Will I have a labour like my mother? Will my baby and I be okay? 

Another experience which formed my opinion, was during one of the prenatal sessions I attended. The midwife provided information about the stages of labour and discussed the types of pain-relief medication available. Her presentation was non-judgemental and very factual, it was obvious she had a wealth of knowledge. However, at one point, the midwife asked for everyone to raise their hand, indicating if they were born vaginally versus those born via cesarean. I didn’t realise that the rate of C-section births had increased (nor do I think that anyone else in the room knew this information either considering we were all rookies in birth and babies), and did not understand that this was the point she was trying to make. I couldn’t see the reason for her question, except to make a point about women opting to choose surgery over a vaginal birth. I was the only person in the room who was born via C-section and she made her point using me as her example. Perhaps, I was extra sensitive at the time, however, that made me feel very insecure and humiliated. Furthermore, she had no context of my situation. Unfortunately, the midwife’s point didn’t resonate with me as I was missing integral information to support the key learning experience. Instead her presentation solidified my feelings that I’ll do what I must, even a cesarean birth, for the sake of my baby – as any mother would.

Birth day, baby number one

The day before the due date, the midwives and obstetrics department recommended we monitor the baby because I was concerned about reduced movement. The ultrasounds looked good, so my husband and I decided that we didn’t want to induce unnecessarily, despite this option being offered to us. We were satisfied with regular check ups, twice a week. The day arrived, it was 36 degrees in Sydney and since we lived fifteen minutes walking distance from the hospital, I decided to walk to my appointment. I know what you’re thinking, but alas no, I didn’t go into labour – not even a single centimeter. 

Instead, during the ultrasound we discovered ‘the waters looked murky’, meaning there may have been meconium present and we wouldn’t be able to tell until we could look at the amniotic fluid. Out of fear of the baby having potential respiratory issues, my husband and I decided to take up the offer to induce labour. 

In the birthing suite, my midwife asked me my rules and boundaries, she asked about medications, the do’s and don’ts and I was mostly prepared – or so I thought. I decided ‘no’ to morphine, ‘yes’ to gas, an epidural ‘if necessary’ but I wanted to try without. I wanted a water birth and to see my baby emerge slowly from the water. In my mind it was so romantic. After thirty minutes, that midwife was replaced with a midwife trained in water birth. Then entered midwife Bithia – birthing goddess, mother of four who knew her craft like Jackie Chan knows kung fu. 

At 4 pm, she broke my waters and I insisted, no medication to get the labour going, I wanted to see if my body would do it on its own. My mother in law had also given me a homeopathic remedy to take to ‘help the labour along’, which I regrettably did out of obligation. Big mistake – before I knew it, the pain was fierce. What commenced as period pain, quickly progressed into back to back contractions. Bithia and my husband had me in many positions first in the shower, then using acupressure, on all fours, leaning, swaying, standing, rocking – through all of it, I was in fear. I couldn’t let go of my husband’s hand. ‘DON’T let me go!’ I pleaded. 

Bithia continued to reassure me that this was progress and then she began to run the bath. At first, the bath felt amazing, and then I lost control. I was hot, I was flailing, I had nothing to grab and all I could manage was to scream. I was so scared. She brought the gas which took the edge off the pain but I got to the stage, where I felt my body was being ripped in two. My husband later told me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head like the exorcist (I’m glad he waited to tell me this after the fact.) 

‘Get me out!’ I said abruptly, I had had enough of the heat. I was losing myself to the excruciating pain and Bithia looked with her torch to tell me, I was about four centimeters dilated. Despite her sharing this news with enthusiasm and a positive tone, it deflated me entirely.

I believe due to the homeopathic remedy, my body was catapulted into labour. I didn’t experience contractions like a wave, instead they came on and increased and increased without a moment to breathe. I was convinced my entire pelvic floor was breaking apart a centimeter at a time. Amidst the anxiety and pain, I was given a 10-second reprieve to scream for an epidural. 

I was terrified of the epidural too but at that point, I would have done anything to stop the pain. Once it took effect, I slept, until I was informed that they needed to give me ‘something to increase my contractions because the epidural caused them to slow down’. A decision that I felt my husband and I had not made for myself, but was more or less made for me by a doctor. 

I was woken by Bithia to tell me my new midwife was taking over – Nicole. Bithia praised me for all my hard work and I will never forget that inspiring, curly-haired woman who helped me in my journey. Nicole was lovely and she had a short time to build trust with me as it was only an hour or so later that my body was ready and I needed to push. 

I pushed for two hours and the baby was not out. We tried different positions, she even brought in the head midwife to give me guidance. She wore a red lanyard and shoved her gigantic hands in for an internal examination only to tell me the baby is ‘right there’ and ‘you’re not pushing hard enough’. I think she believed she was being motivating but I felt like a student being reprimanded. Nicole quickly realised this was not what I needed and she took over trying to build up my self-esteem again. 

All of a sudden, a young obstetrician walked in and suggested we get the baby out because I was exhausted. She talked me through the procedure of an episiotomy and vacuum delivery and she left me and husband to decide on our own with Nicole’s support. My first thought was, I failed. I pushed again for another 10 minutes and gave in to the doctor, who said ‘let’s work together to get your baby out’. And so my husband and I agreed to the procedures. I was beyond scared and I was emotionally and physically done. I just wanted to feel safe again. 

On the due date, at 7.25 am, my baby boy was born. They placed him on my tummy, we waited for his cord to stop pulsing before my husband had the honour of cutting it and then we admired his placenta. It wasn’t the romantic birth I had imagined. I remember that first look between my husband and I, seeing him for the first time as a father, he was white as a ghost and in complete shock. Then my gaze met my son’s eyes for the first time, a moment that bonded me to him for life. In that moment, the pain, the fear and my insecurities all washed away – I became a mum. 

Baby number two

It was only nine months later after the birth of my son, that I fell pregnant with my second baby. I opted for the same health care approach only this time, I knew what to expect and I was a little more confident. I had regular check-ups as per required, however there were concerns about the baby’s size and at 38 weeks’ gestation, I went for a check up with the hospital obstetrician. 

My husband and I sat in the waiting room for my 3 pm appointment. He was very much looking forward to going home and having the warm, hearty fish soup sitting on the stove top. He asked me, ‘What’s the plan this time?’ referring to my birth plan. Before I could answer, we were whisked inside for the check-up. 

During the appointment, the doctor mentioned that given the size of the baby’s tummy, they would not let me go past the due date for there were ‘concerns that the baby would get stuck’. He looked at the notes from my first birth and informed us that my son was actually in distress – information that was never disclosed to us at the time. We were furious and it was no surprise that the doctor was not aware that we were not privy to this information. 

After much discussion, the doctor booked me in to be induced on the due date. The phone call was made and the date was scheduled in two weeks’ time. I felt nervous and worried about the day as I didn’t want a repeat of my last birth; I didn’t want to be induced but I also didn’t want anything to happen to my baby. It seemed like there was no other option. 

Prior to taking our leave, the doctor wanted to do an internal check up. I insisted I use the loo (need I say more). Funnily enough, my waters broke and all the staff on level 5 were excited by the commotion. ‘Does this mean we’re not having fish soup?’ my husband asked, clearly starving. 

My labour progressed quickly. This time the beginning felt as it should. I felt the contractions coming on like a wave. I could talk and breathe through my contractions, my midwife, Susan, was relaxed since I had done this before and at this point, I was giddy with excitement. But I had not discussed the plan, as there was no plan. Out of fear I avoided the idea and now it was beginning to be too late. Susan didn’t really push for more information, she treated me like I was an expert at this which was flattering, but looking back, I probably needed more support because of the trauma I held from my first birth. She didn’t know my history and it wasn’t her fault. During my appointments there was no debrief about my previous birth, it was all about the baby and ticking the boxes – it is hard to build a relationship when you see a different midwife all the time. In my opinion, it is a failure of the system. 

After an hour or so, the contractions began to bite. Ironically, I didn’t want my husband to touch me at all, I didn’t want the shower which I enjoyed in the first birth. My preference was to lean over a low bed, squatting and grunting into the pillow. I was scared from the moment I felt that first intense contraction in my back and then I begged for the gas. Once I hit that point of fear again, it became unbearable, I couldn’t push into my body and I screamed for the epidural. 

As the anaesthetist was about to administer the needle, Susan asked me, ‘Do you need to push?’, I responded with a very loud, deep ‘No!’ – I lied. I was terrified and I was determined to have the pain relief.

Once the epidural took effect, Susan bid me farewell and she was replaced with another midwife – her shift ended. 

Shortly after this, I was fully dilated, the new midwife set up and I began to push. The room was quiet, peaceful and calm and more importantly my husband looked slightly less shell-shocked. Ironically, the midwife from the prenatal class walked in as the supporting midwife in the delivery. She was amazing at supporting me, both midwives made me feel I could do it and so this time I pushed for a significantly shorter time. 

This time, there was no vacuum but I did require /a small cut’, they said. At 9.25 pm, only five hours after my waters ruptured, my second son was born. He crawled his way to the breast to feed, we were smitten with our gorgeous big-eyed boy. The same medical procedures followed thereafter and all I could think at the time was, gosh that was quick! 

Baby number three

When I fell pregnant with my third baby, I was absolutely terrified and riddled with anxiety about giving birth. My entire focus was on how quickly my second son arrived – what if this labour is quicker than before? I didn’t want to fear the pain and I needed to prepare myself for the idea that an epidural may not be an option. 

I began to explore what was out there in terms of information. I found lots of courses and considered doing a debrief with a midwife but unfortunately, my financial circumstances prevented me from accessing these. I listened to a podcast which led to me finding Rhea Dempsey’s book Birth with Confidence. As I progressed through the book, I was blown away by how little I knew about the medical system and about birth.

I came to the realisation that I was one of the statistics. I also learnt about myself as a mother, and about my body during labour. More importantly, how I would feel at different stages of labour, which really resonated with me. Rhea’s book encouraged me to consider what kind of birthing woman I want to be. Her wisdom and guidance changed my perspective about birth. Once I had her words in my head, I was determined to give birth without the interventions. 

This time I chose the birthing suite because I wanted the continuity of care with one midwife, Megan. Megan heard my stories about my previous births, she filled me with confidence and she inspired me so much that over the course of pregnancy, I began to believe in myself and my body. During my pregnancy, my knowledge acquisition gained from Rhea’s book guided me to make decisions that empowered me. My husband and I made a plan – no internal examinations, no pain relief, no epidural and he was my number-one advocate.

One week before my due date, I sensed the baby was coming. At 3 pm, I picked up the kids from daycare, called my husband and went home to prepare dinner. As my family ran around like headless chooks, I paced myself through my contractions that were about four minutes apart. I had a TENS machine, and my second son in tow for about an hour, until my contractions intensified to one minute apart. We rushed to the hospital. 

I was scared but I told myself, your body is supposed to do this. I had Rhea in my head through each contraction. Unfortunately, Megan, my midwife, was getting her wisdom teeth taken out but the beautiful Taylor was there with a student midwife to deliver my baby. There was little time to build trust, but even the small change of turning right and walking into the birthing suite instead of turning left to the delivery ward made me feel less stressed. The space was softer, personal and more relaxed – I felt safe because they knew me. 

At 6 pm, Taylor said, ‘After the next contraction, we will do an internal, is that okay?’ I didn’t respond as I couldn’t speak and at that moment, I would not have said no. My wonderful husband politely informed Taylor that I will not be having any internal examinations unless it was absolutely necessary. 

One significant point in Rhea’s book which made me laugh, was that at some point during labour the birth mother ‘will seek out the weakest person in the room’. As expected, I turned to my husband and asked for an epidural – I knew the midwives wouldn’t cave. His eyes widened and perspiration formed on his brow – he was cornered, until Taylor put a stop to it and I accepted that it was not an option. 

Not long after this, I was screaming and bearing down on all fours and I remembered other parts of the book, like the moment I would feel drowsy and drunk like – my body weighed a tonne. I was succumbing to the journey and then my waters burst like champagne from a bottle. In spite of the pain, I felt liberated. Through my screams I let go of my heartache and the trauma of my previous births – every essence of my being let go. All I could hear was my husband’s voice encouraging me and Taylor’s guidance to breathe and wait or push. Exactly 10 minutes later, at 8.01 pm our precious daughter was born. 

Like all the births of my children, I couldn’t breathe until I heard her take her first breath. Taylor passed me my daughter and I sobbed. It wasn’t until I slowly peeled myself off the floor and moved to the bed, that I saw my husband with teary eyes. I had the birth I wanted. 

I’m forever thankful for reading Rhea Dempsey’s book, my midwives and my husband who were my constant guide and their support over several months was what I needed to build my self-esteem and confidence.

Conclusion 

I cannot convey enough the importance of birth education to empower women and mothers. The birth sets the foundation for a mother, the newborn and their family. The birth that the mother experiences is crucial to the life lived beyond that day. Through my last birth I was lucky to experience spiritual growth and healing which happened as a result of the decision to take control of my body and get the support I wanted. If I had that education and knowledge prior to my first birth, perhaps my first two births would have been different. 

Each time I gave birth, it changed me as a person, as I experienced a deep sense of rebirth within myself. I am not the same mother who sat in that prenatal class. As a result of my last birth, I approach many aspects of life with little fear and I believe this is due to the trauma I overcame. I believe that birth without interventions has made me into a more resilient, confident and empowered woman. I hold that experience with reverence and adoration, for the decisions that I made that day, not only shaped me into the woman I am now, but I believe they have shaped the path for my daughter too.