It has been some time now, since I wrote last. A lot of things have been happening and I have been on a journey of self discovery since the birth of my last baby.
First thing is first, my immediate postpartum experience was traumatic and took me years to get into a better headspace. I didn't talk about it much when I shared his birth story. His actual birth was pretty good, no real complaints other than I chose to have the wrong people at my birth.
I love my family with all my heart, but they're from a different mindset than I am, and unfortunately that shone brightly when my baby was born. The first issue was I felt very much observed and like I had to be a hostess instead of focusing within and labouring away.
I remember sitting on my gym ball, bouncing away while chatting to my sister and mum, my partner and dad were outside. the contractions were coming fairly often, although irregular and barely painful. I knew I needed to focus within, but I was constantly made to focus on what was going on around me. Occasionally I was able to ignore everything and focus on the labour sensations, but as soon as it was over, bam, back to reality. I never went off into labour land, a place I am very familiar with and feel safe.
I remember wanting a drink so bad, and I was (looking back) obviously in transition. If I was in my 'right mind' I would have never considered sending my partner to go to the shops into town more than 15 minutes away for something ridiculous like a Gatorade, especially since I was in labour and usually cannot stand him being in another room, I needed his presence.
In hindsight, I prepared my family badly for the realities of homebirth. I never explained that I would be asking for things that are impossible, or inappropriate at the time and to think more into what I was asking. I'm asking for a drink, because I was thirsty, not because I needed Gatorade from the shops.
I remember the contractions intensified and my mum and sister watching, during a contraction mum took a photo, and then a short video. I laugh about my comment at the time, I know I asked for video, at the time I was like 'why are you recording' to have mum reply 'you wanted a memento right?'. True, I did, and I am glad I have that footage because it was taken less than 20 minutes before baby was here, she's used it as 'proof' you can't tell when someone is literally about to have a baby when they go all textbook saying usually they're quiet, screaming and unable to talk... I was chatting, laughing and pacing around. Never trust a precipitous birther basically, labour isn't textbook.
For some reason, which still bothers me, my dad and partner were out the front talking, obviously thinking I had hours to go. I remember sending mum out to make them (in my mind I'm thinking just dad, leave my partner here with me) go get me a drink from the shops, and in the short time she was out of the room my waters went. Pop, trickle, trickle. A strange sensation since I was always either pushing when this happened or my midwife had broken them (first birth).
I assumed I was still in early labour but on my waddle down the hallway to the bathroom I felt pressure. My sister rushed outside to tell them my waters broke, my partner knowing immediately it's go time, rushed in and started filling the bathtub while I'm kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet.
While the bath was filling, I checked myself in front of my sister and mum, they didn't understand what I was doing at the time, but that's the moment I realised baby was coming much sooner, and less painfully than my other births.
The pressure was insane, it's all I felt during and in between contractions and when I had a contraction it took all my focus. I remember leaning against the bath and listening to the quiet chatter only breathlessly say to them to be quiet. I needed absolute silence, and I needed to hold my partner's hand. He kept me grounded.
When the bath was full, my partner tried to help me up, I didn't really want to move but the idea of the water was too enticing.
When I got in the bath, I felt an immediate release of tension.
I took of my crop top, joking about pooping in the bath, and when everyone except my partner left, my body just went for it. The Foetal Ejection Reflex is no joke.
I remembered thinking I had to take it slow, but I also remembered thinking, quick get this baby out before someone comes in. I pushed his head out, feeling myself tear, and waited for the rest of him to follow with the next contraction. All I could think was, keep him under the water I don't want him to drown.
Whoosh, out came baby. At that time my family came into the room, but I didn't notice. I was wondering why I couldn't pull him to my chest and saw a nuchal cord, my partner and I working seamlessly together (because this was not our first nuchal cord birth) and flipped him in a way that the cord fell away, and I brought him to my chest.
The rush of oxytocin flooded my body and I cried joyfully.
Then things went downhill....
Due to the speed of the birth, bub was a slow starter, and that is entirely normal. I knew as long as that cord was intact, he was getting oxygen. So I didn't try rubbing him to get him to cry like they do in the movies, he was making faces, wriggling upon my now empty womb and colour was slowly coming to his little body. I said hello to him and soaked in his littleness.
I was in awe of this tiny little body who's home was my womb.
Mum rushed over and grabbed a towel, one I don't think was even clean, definitely not one I had aside for the birth (I had a pile in the lounge on my bookshelf, along with other things for the birth like a receiving blanket) and began to rub his head, to make him cry. She did it for only a couple of seconds, I can't even remember if he cried because I was wondering what on earth is she doing, I said he's ok a couple of times and she backed away. I know the speed of the birth shocked her, and her medical training kicked in, so I wish in hindsight I had prepared her.
I do remember hearing a cry, and dad relieved saying that's what we wanted to hear. I snuggled my little boy, but the initial euphoria was gone and replaced with a sense of extreme vulnerability. I looked up to my family for the first time and announced his name, tears in my dads eyes. It was a happy moment, just not the euphoric birth I had with my other children. It's not anyone's fault, because this birth was a shock for us all. I had barely 10 minutes to comprehend I was actually about to give birth and suddenly I was doing it.
Because I felt vulnerable, I wanted out of the bath. I had help getting up, and they helped me sit on a chair. I felt a little weak, as you do after a precipitous birth.
I showed my little ones their new brother, I gave him his first breastfeed and soaked in his little adorable face and swollen little ears.
Mum covered my back with a towel, I must have been shivering except I wasn't cold. You almost always get the shakes after birth, no matter how the baby came out, as it's a rush of hormones flooding your body (I say almost, in case there are people who haven't experienced it, yet I have seen it in 100% of my clients, friends and birth videos I have seen as well as experiencing it first hand).
I started feeling pretty weak, I needed to lie down and asked to be helped to the lounge. I had it in my mind that there would be an adequate amount of towels and I would be helped to lie down, but instead there was one towel, and I was placed to sit on it. I kept trying to lean back, wanting to put my feet up. I wasn't in the headspace to say anything, but I will remember it forever for future births, whether it's mine or a birth I attend as a doula.
I started feeling super thirsty, so mum gave me an orange juice, and then I started feeling really dizzy, and was seeing stars. I knew this could mean I was having an issue with bleeding, and since the placenta wasn't out yet it was possible there was bleeding behind it and we wouldn't get any symptoms besides the symptoms I was experiencing.
I asked mum to check my BP, and it was significantly low (80 over something) and in that moment, I decided to transfer to hospital. I knew nobody in that room was going to be able to help me if I was haemorrhaging behind the placenta, and I had to act fast. I was getting very strong contractions but the placenta wasn't coming like it had in the past.
I asked mum to help me cut the cord, and they covered me with my favourite dressing gown. dad and my partner were getting the car ready and we were on the way to the hospital within minutes of me making the decision to go...
We arrived at the hospital, and unfortunately dad drove us to the emergency side not the birthing side, and they rushed me in.. this is where my trauma took place. I knew I made the right decision to go, but I wasn't prepared for what was to come.
They dragged me to a bed, one that was high and narrow, and mum held my baby. The small cubicle was full of at least 5 people. The midwife rushed in and took over, making demands and I heard my partner say I didn't want the needle for the placenta because they were discussing how to get it.
She started pushing on my belly and pulling the cord, it hurt a lot. I said please stop, and she did, momentarily, only to grab the cord and push my belly once again. I don't remember how many times she did this, but I kept asking her to stop and kept looking around the room for someone to tell her to leave me alone. Someone was with my family looking over my baby, nobody was focusing on me... I was merely a placenta that needed to come out, no consideration to how much pain they were inflicting on me or the fact that I had asked them to stop. I was so scared I was going to start bleeding because she was attempting to rip out a placenta that wasn't ready to come out, especially because I hadn't had syntocin to speed up the process, I would have consented had I know how desperate they were to rip it out.
MY blood pressure was normal, so I knew I wasn't actually bleeding out, my BP at home would have been a result of standing, and sitting instead of lying down.
The only angel in the room said the one thing I had hoped for, 'why don't we put baby to the breast and see of that helps the placenta release'.. whoever she was, she got my baby back to me, I needed him so much.
The midwife kept pulling and pushing, until I felt a massive RIP within me and intense pain as she pulled my placenta out.. I was relieved it was out, because it meant she would stop touching me, the exact words I said were "Thank f*ck for that" to hear panicked shushing... like I didn't deserve to be relieved, like they didn't want to admit I was a person... I was wrong in thinking she would leave me along, she tried to examine my vagina, I kept trying to close my legs. She said I had a tear that needs stitches, and they'll get the doctor to stitch me up. I thought yeah, fine, it will be like my second birth where they gave me some local and it was a painless experience.
They tried to take away my placenta once they had examined it and established it was intact. I said no, I want to keep it, so they wrapped it in the absorbent cloth and handed it to me once I was sitting in a wheelchair. It was warm and quite heavy, definitely thicker than my last placenta. They wheeled me to the maternity ward, I don't know who carried my baby with us, but I am pretty sure it was my partner.
Everything was a blur, I was glad to be away from that midwife. Although to this day, I'm not even sure whether there were one or two and if the midwife who ignored my requests to not be touched was the one who followed.
I was in a bed, wearing a gown, while the midwife fussed over my baby. I remember he pooped and mum started gathering things to wash him, like a flannel and some gentle soap, and the midwife so rudely said 'no, it's my job' taking the things out of her hands. She began using toxic Johnsons & Johnsons baby wipes, very roughly cleaning my baby. I was so stunned, I wanted someone who loved my baby to care for him, and seeing how rough she was with him, was horrifying. Mum was visibly upset, I was too stunned to say anything. I started to get angry. I haven't been able to let that anger go.
She did the usual checks and made me feel like I couldn't say no to the vitamin k injection, something I was not wanting. She stabbed him, he cried and I had to detach myself from that moment. She bundled him up and handed him around the room to my family, I'm not even sure if my partner got a cuddle until I was being examined again.... I have photos from this time, I faked a smile while I lie feeling dead inside with my baby being handed around... I was happy my parents got to have a hold, but I wanted him first.
My parents realised I would need clothes so they left the three of us to buy me something special, and because my gown was thrown away covered in blood. My partner, I think, was finally having a cuddle and the midwife came in and said the doctor was coming to check on me. she started breaking down the bed and got the stirrups up and put my legs in them. I said how on earth could anyone give birth like this, it was demeaning!! I don't think she liked my comment.....She covered my vagina with a sheet, turning on the spotlight and walked out to get the doctor, not without saying first "you're on display now" I still feel disgusting at this comment.
The doctor came in and they gave me gas and air, I started to panic when he started to touch me because I realised he was going to examine me and then stitch me with no pain relief, gas is in no way adequate for stitching such a sensitive area. He wasn't gentle, and the midwife held me down 'comforting' me, while I was squirming away due to the pain. Her attempt at comforting me was the worst thing she could have done to someone with a history of being held down in hospital.. it triggered my PTSD from when I had a severe bowel obstruction and they were shoving a NG tube down my nose saying I had to let it happen or I'd die leaving my newborn baby girl without a mum.
I begged them to stop, and it took way too long for him to leave me alone. they kept telling me in needed stitched and to stay still, but I was already triggered. I wasn't having any of it and refused treatment. The doctor spoke to me like I was a child, and sais to be don't come in crying with a damaged pelvic floor because I refused to let him stitch me. I thought who cares, you weren't going to numb ne up and I cant even see how bad the tear is to know whether to agree with his opinion that I even needed stitches. I'm of the opinion he would have stitched a graze if it was there, I've heard nasty things about him from other people who have had him at their births.
The midwife had released me, he took a step back, and asked if I was sure I didn't want to be stitched, when I said yes he rudely sighed, turned around and ripped his gloves off, waving his hands in the air as a sign of rude defeat before leaving the room. The midwife may have said something but I didn't care. I was getting some of my confidence back.
I was so angry.
The midwife tried to make excuses but I ignored her. I had enough and wanted to go home.
She left the room to do paperwork.
They hadn't even offered me a drink, yet I was to be there for 7 hours before I was discharged. After the midwife left the room I asked my poor stunned and horrified partner to go get a drink from the vending machine, while I held my baby. We had been separated way too long, I'm not even sure if I tried to breastfeed him again.
While my partner was getting a drink the midwife popped her head in the room and asked about my crohns and medication, I told her I was on Humira as my Crohn's is severe, she snaps back 'you got all your bowels?" I said yes, not bothering to mention I had a resection due to a perforation when I was a child, unrelated to my crohns, she says rudely "you don't have it bad then" and walks out... I started to cry at that point... She in just 2 seconds managed to invalidate the enormous amount of suffering I had gone through prior to and during my pregnancy. I was only on biologics to avoid surgery, she had no idea how close I was to losing a good 15cm of my terminal ilium, had no idea how many times my disease tried to kill me nor the amount of pain I was tortured with for 8 months. I wasn't just angry anymore, I was pissed!!
My partner came back and gave me a drink, he had to search the hospital for a machine and was utterly horrified at the comment the midwife made and how she had left me. We insisted on discharge as soon as she came back, I'm not even sure why she came back. I wish I had a second midwife I could have asked to not allow her back into my room.
My mum and I think my brother came to see us, as she gave me a cute little set of pyjamas to put on after I had a shower, I was uncomfortable having my brother in the room but it was not an issue at all after what I had been through. I took a 5 second shower because the water pressure was awful, a complete waste of time, considering I had the kind nurse from ER wash my legs for me. I got dressed and was anxiously waiting to leave. SEVEN FREAKING HOURS I was locked up in that torture hole.
The midwife helped us get to our car, acting like she had done the best thing in the world for us, and I just wanted to run away from her. I was so relieved to be sitting on my sore and swollen behind, on my way to my safe space...
I was numb for a while, I remembered I should announce my son's birth, not realising my sister had already mentioned it on Facebook, taking away yet one more thing from me that day... something I find unforgiveable. I couldn't go into the birth details, I wanted to forget so I merely said it was a fast birth but we were ok now. When my family got me settled they left, telling me how proud they were of me. Not knowing that inside I was a broken person. I ripped off the armband the hospital put on me as fast as I could, I threw it away even though I have a weird thing with collecting them.
My brother in law was notified and he came for a quick visit, I just wanted to be alone and I could tell he realised that. When I was on my own I started to break down, but I kept a smile on my face when anyone saw me. The kids didn't need to see how broken I was.
I didn't sleep that night, I kept reliving every moment. the pain, the rude comments, being held down... I cried and cried while I held my newborn son skin to skin, I knew I was going to find it difficult getting over that experience. I was grateful I birthed my baby at home on my terms, instead of being induced with a midwife I didn't truly trust, I was grateful he was healthy and was breastfeeding well. I tried to tell myself I should be happy, but I was anything but.
I spent the next few days in a sleepless daze, my only saving grace was my sweet baby boy. I shared a selfie the morning after the birth and mum commented on how exhausted I looked and begged me to get some rest. She didn't know yet, that I spent that night awake and crying.
It was maybe two days before I called the hospital and made a formal complaint and the midwife was incredibly compassionate, I am forever grateful she listened to me and validated my feelings.
A few days later I got a letter from the hospital with the birth details on it to give to my GP when I went in for a check-up (although I never do them) and the details were all wrong. It said it had been 2 hours before the placenta had come, the birth time was wrong and it stated I had a second degree tear... the very thing I had asked about when they insisted I needed stitching, although they refused to give me information. I know exactly what 1st, second, third and fourth degree tears are, I assumed at the time they used a different grading system... they didn't, they just withheld information from me.
I panicked, tried checking my tear and seeing if it really should have been stitched and couldn't tell so I panicked even more and called the hospital, imagining a gaping hole in my vagina where it was now too late to heal properly (as the best time to receive stitches is within 48h).
I requested the head midwife, the one I had spoken to days before when making my complaint and she said to come in and she will see me herself. So I did, I felt safe, I knew she actually cared.
When I arrived I found I was curling myself up, almost shielding myself from the hospital itself. my voice barely worked as I asked to see the midwife and when she came to get me I overheard the other midwife comment very quietly on how upset and scared I had looked, the midwife I was there to see said I'd had a very difficult time and that was why I was there.... validation once again.
She took me to the birth centre, a completely different part of the birth ward, where there was a double bed and a birth pool. We chatted about why I was there and more in depth about the disgraceful treatment I received and she was horrified. She said to me I was absolutely right about cord traction and pulling the placenta could definitely cause the bleeding I was so afraid of. She said I was obviously well informed and know what I was talking about. I was promised the midwife would be reprimanded and she would call a staff meeting to remind them about consent and non-consent. I didn't even have the energy to go into the Doctor's attitude... I got a letter a few weeks later explaining the action that was taken.. she kept her job only because she wasn't a regular member of the staff.
She checked my tear and said she wouldn't have bothered stitching me up and was surprised they wanted to, I was reassured that it was healing and I won't have issues with it at all. Having the opportunity to debrief with someone who had access to my notes took some weight off my shoulders, when I went home, I finally got some sleep.
It was still a looong road of recovery. I had bouts of rage and had nothing but flashbacks on his birthday. Every time I looked at the clock I was remembering what had been happening at that time and I was relieved when his birthday was over. I'm glad it was only his first birthday, he will never remember not having a cake. When he was 18 months old I had enough and started antidepressants, the first lot I was given I had a severe reaction to, I tried to kill myself even though I wasn't suicidal. Then I went on another class of antidepressants and slowly, the pain within was fading and I was able to see things from a different perspective. I was able to celebrate his second birthday with no flashbacks. I started a course in Aged Care, wanting to take a break from birth for a while, and I was in a pretty good place for a while.
I finished my course and did my work placement, which went alright, I was gaining confidence thinking about getting a job there until I was told to feed someone who should never have been fed by a student. She choked, her face went blue and although I was able to resolve the issue and was praised with my professionalism, but with that experience, all my confidence was gone. I knew I would not be able to work in aged care, I struggled enough as it was to go in every day and see people near to death.. birth is where I am meant to be.
I took a couple of weeks to process what happened and with my partner's full support we decided although I spent over a thousand to do the course, I was not going to work in aged care, and I would pursue my certification as a birth doula.
So, as of the end of January, I have been a student of Childbirth International, slowly making my way through the course. Not long after I was getting requests to be their birth doula and I was ecstatic! Throughout the year I went to a few births and some beautiful relationships were formed. I witnessed so much joy and I decided to start weaning myself off of the antidepressants late August. It was hard, oh so hard, whenever I was almost weaned I would get intense itching all over and many times I took another tablet just to stop it. It took a few weeks but I got myself off, and I didn't slip back into depression. In September I had the opportunity to start the Stillbirthday course, to become a bereavement doula, I want to be able to support my future clients if the unfortunate was to happen, I would not want to abandon them in a way and not be able to give the support I know they deserve, I am not certified yet, I've got a little ways to go before that happens.
Fast forward to now, I'm doing really well and eagerly anticipating the 3rd birthday of my littlest, the 5th birthday of my first planned freebirth bub, the 9th birthday of my daughter and the little boy whose birth changed me forever by being impatient and coming after just 90 minutes of labour at home in my bathroom, will be turning 7.... I cannot believe how much my life has changed and how awesome it is right now.
That isn't all though, as of today (Saturday the 3rd of Feb), I am 19 weeks with our fifth child!!!! We are beyond excited, I have been quite sick this time around. I actually got bad enough to need a few admissions into hospital for rehydration, as recently as last week I was given 3 litres of fluids!! I am feeling better though this week, yesterday was the first time I didn't throw up, although today I haven't been as lucky today.
I have delayed seeing a care provider, so at this point in time I am unassisted. I am honestly afraid of having to go back into a hospital for pregnancy, even though this is a different hospital which I know and like.
I am nervous and excited, I am once again hoping for a little girl but right now I only care that the baby is healthy, and developing as they should be. I'm fully intending to have another freebirth, unless something comes up that means it would be unsafe.
I will update occasionally, as currently there has been little change week by week except for my belly getting bigger :)
This ended up far longer than I had planned, if you managed to read all the way through, thank you. I may have to go back and review this, but at this moment I am just clicking publish with my thoughts as they are.
Namaste x
Friday, 2 February 2018
Thursday, 24 September 2015
Birth of baby E
Once again, it has been a long time between posts. I apologise for that.
It has been a long journey since I last wrote. I had my baby boy, a perfect healthy little boy who has stolen my heart.
In all honesty, I don't know where to start. His birth was amazing but postpartum as very difficult...
I had an uneventful end of my pregnancy. The drug induced lupus went away once I discontinued the culprit drug and I started on Humira. I did fine with that, no side effects. I was surprised I was able to inject myself because I have always hated needles.
I knew baby would come sooner than my last one, I just had a feeling. I knew I would birth somewhere after 38.5 weeks but before my due date.
37 weeks came and I became incredibly emotional, it was very much like severe depression, which I have gone through before. I could barely get myself out of bed and I cried a lot. I just knew I was at the end. I cried to my mum and she came over with plaster to do a belly cast since I had always wanted to do one.
I spent a lot of time trying to work out what music I wanted playing while I laboured. I fell in love with Merlin's Magic, I would dance to it and meditate in the bath while listening to it on my headphones.
For about a week before E was born, I had nightly contractions that fizzled after 2h, I never once thought I was going into labour but I hoped of course. To distract us from the prodromal labour we would watch a movie right before bed and just chill. Just 2 days before E was born I had a lot of discomfort, the prodromal labour felt like early labour with a badly positioned bub so I spent much of that in the bath trying to move him. I was never able to accurately pinpoint his position, I just knew he was head down and not anterior.
The day before, 6th March, it was my dad's birthday and a full moon. I knew there was something significant about that date. I was 38 weeks and 5 days on that day. I had what would be my last antenatal appointment after I picked my daughter up from school. The midwife said to come straight in once labour started and I said straight out I had no plans to do that. She didn't say anything. I was getting lots of tightenings and bub was 3/5ths engaged, no surprise to me because I was doing my own prenatal care at home (measuring belly and palpating position) I was really wasting my time going but I still went to prove we were both fine.
That night I sat on the bench outside and watched the full moon, talking to my baby and then walked around to my partner who was doing something with the car and mentioned the full moon and how my dad had sent me a message saying there was still time for him to share his birthday. I thought it was cute, my dad was very excited about his new grandson. My partner was off work because he had been sick but was going back the next morning, he was joking around how it would be cool if bub came so he didn't have to go to work the next morning.
I had yet another round of prodromal labour start around 8pm, I was almost convinced it was 'it' until 11pm and it suddenly stopped. I had a bath, went to bed rather grumpy and convinced I was going to be the first person to be pregnant forever. Hilarious considering I was only 38 weeks.
I slept soundly, even R slept well only waking once or twice in the night to nurse. When my partner left for work at 5am I woke as he kissed be goodbye, I fell back asleep and didn't wake until 8am.
Almost on the dot, 8am, I woke up needing to pee and I was having a tightening. Of course I ignored it and got brekky for the kids and made myself a coffee. A slow start, it was Saturday morning and we had no plans.
As I was making breakfast I felt more tightenings with a lot of pressure, I started to wonder because they were different. After about half an hour I was almost sure but it definitely wasn't active labour, I sent a message to my partner saying I thought it was the day but I would let him know when I wanted him to come home. He would normally finish around 10 and be home half an hour later. I sent a message to my mum, even though I wasn't certain I wanted her and my sister there for the birth.
A little while later the tightenings were getting more pushy, not as in baby coming out but baby pushing down and cervix opening. I checked myself but nothing was different and I started thinking I was getting ahead of myself but also saying to myself that dilation meant absolutely nothing. Very early labour I thought to myself.
I put a movie on for the kids and started some housework. I did the dishes and in the middle of that I was certain baby was coming that day and things were moving slower than last time. I called S and the first thing out of my mouth was 'I hope you're thinking of leaving soon' he was packing up and about to leave, he knew that for me to say something was up meant baby was on his way. He knew me better than myself in early labour.
I called my mum and said it was definitely the day, I ended the call saying I would get back to her when I wanted her to come. She was supposed to be there to watch the kids, and my sister was to come so she could see the awesomeness of birth.
I kept cleaning, this was me nesting. I started vacuuming just after 10. I had to hum and sway through some contractions because it was hard to ignore them but they were so irregular and lasted under 30 seconds. I'd be holding onto the vacuum as I swayed, once it stopped I kept going. I was peaceful but in disbelief I was actually in early labour.
Just as I put a sheet over the couch (they were old and stained, I hated them uncovered) S pulled up the driveway. I greeted him at the door and he gave me a kiss all excited. he touched my belly and then we just chatted while I had contractions. I was sitting on my gym ball and noticed that sitting made them quite strong.
Not too long after my parents turned up, it was 1130 and they were just checking in before hanging out in town nearby. Then my sister came and we all just chatted and laughed. it really didn't feel like I was labouring rather than they were there visiting. It was really nice.
I was getting pretty uncomfortable not too long after they came, I sat on my ball and stopped trying to relax and gritted my teeth as I had a contraction. it hurt but not like I had experienced before.
I started to get thirsty, I asked my partner to go to the shops (why I didn't ask or go get a drink I don't know). He and my dad went outside, I assumed they left.
It was just me, my mum and my sister sitting in the lounge bathed in sunlight. It was just before midday and it was a beautiful day.
My mum reminded me to breathe through contractions and then recorded me pacing around during one because sitting was too intense. I laughed at her because she said 'well you wanted a memento right?'... I did, but it felt so weird labouring in front of her, I'd had 2 babies without anyone watching me, it was surreal.
I was getting a bit annoyed and when I was told my dad and S were out the front talking about cars of all things I said they better get a move on or I won't get my drink (I wanted gatoraide or something hydrating, I didn't have any). Mum went out to tell them and then as I was standing taking to my sister after a contraction 'pop' went my waters. I thought it was hilarious and thought they'd gone early this time. I giggled as I waddled down the hallway, dripping amniotic fluid as I went. My sister followed me and wiped up my mess with a towel and then went outside to tell S and my dad to not go anywhere. They'd literally just pulled out of the driveway.
I took my pants off and saw my waters, the smell of birth washed over me. I peed standing because I felt a lot more pressure than before and S walked in. He knew birth was very close and started filling the bath for me. I told him to have the taps all the way on because it wasn't going to fill fast enough, I had a contraction and I yelled through it, I heard my dad call out that I was ok. He didn't know how close his grandson was to being born or that that was the most intense contraction I'd had. A proper labour contraction that I didn't want to do again. After that was over S walked out to check the kids or something, I don't actually know.
I stayed on my hands and knees feeling the pressure, it didn't go away even with contractions coming and going.
With my sister and mum standing in the doorway I ignored them and checked myself and felt bub's head. it didn't exactly click that he was coming but I knew it was close. My sister was clicking away with her camera and my mum got embarrassed because she realised what I was doing. S came back in and held my hand, the contraction didn't stop. I got in the bath (squatted) and took off my crop top. I was naked. I had a rather intense contraction and said I felt like pooping and didn't care if I did (I knew I was pushing but since R took a while I thought E would too). My sister and mum walked out and I had another contraction and it hurt a lot more than the rest, I made a pushy sound and I heard someone say I was pushing but I was off with the fairies at this point.
All of a sudden I felt his head right 'there' and felt it all bulging. I tried not to push but his head was coming and suddenly popped out, I said OMG his head's out and to keep it under the water. A few moments later I realised he wasn't coming out with me squatting in the bath and stuck a leg out and lied back and out came the rest of him in a whoosh. As we pulled him out the water my parents and sister came running in and fortunately someone got a picture of us pulling him out of the water before we got the nuchal cord off. I mentioned the cord and my dad gasped but I said it was fine.
We popped him on my chest and he just lied there on my chest looking around, my mum came over and rubbed his back a little and I insisted he was ok, it would take him a moment to cry because he came out so fast, his cord was providing what he needed.
My first thoughts were that he was so little, almost prem compared to R who was 8lbs. Then he let out a cute but hearty cry and I heard my dad say 'that's what we want to hear'. I imagine it felt like an eternity, considering I never prepared him for the realities of birth. He only had his ambo training and his own children's births to go by. I birth differently and my expectation are less medicalised.
I was overwhelmed with joy and cried as I held him. It was really cool to share that moment with them. My dad walked over to the bath, he thanked me for letting him be there and I saw tears in his eyes. It was a special moment I never in a million years could have guessed would happen.
I got out of the bath, I didn't want to be in there and felt a bit lightheaded because of it and E had his first boobie. They took pictures and we all had a good look at him. We went into the lounge, E still boobin' and after the cord was empty I cut it and we waited for the placenta.
I did it, I had a water birth (I didn't plan on it), my son was earthside safely and surrounded by the people who loved him most.
I did go to the hospital before the placenta came, the cord was cut in preparation, I was very lightheaded, my BP dropped and I made the call to go. I knew if I was at risk of bleeding due to the speed of birth and it wasn't the ideal quiet dark environment I needed and didn't feel like everything was 100%. I just needed to lie down but we were all a bit shocked because none of us expected E to pop out within 10 minutes of my water breaking. I was ok but the stranger midwife did pull on the placenta out of panic, it hurt very much. I said to stop multiple times and was ignored but I did report her for violating me in that way. No means no, stop means stop....
I knew the placenta wasn't ready, it was not even an hour after birth and my BP had stabilised so she was unnecessarily pulling. I grew terrified she would cause exactly what I was there to make sure didn't happen. It hurt a lot, I am certain she pulled it off too soon and I did bleed a lot but not too much (I was quite anaemic afterwards needing an infusion a couple of months after when I saw my specialist for my crohn's, I had very good iron levels at 36 weeks) The excuse for why it hurt was that I had a mild accretia (slightly imbedded into the uterine wall, deeper than it should but not enough for a manual extraction), which upon inspecting the placenta I know to be untrue. She just didn't wait. If she was worried I would have let her give syntocin but she never explained herself. I felt like I was being punished for having him at home.
The visit to the hospital was horrible, I will go into it more later but not in this post, it is long enough and I don't want to ruin an otherwise good birth story. I have postpartum depression and my PTSD was triggered. It took 6 months before I didn't cry at the memory but I've got a way to go before I'll be ok.
I don't regret anything, if anything I have been taught more than I hoped. I will one day be a midwife and I'll be more careful with how I treat my mothers and babies.
Baby E was born at 12:16, on Saturday the 7th March. Active labour was under half an hour, with a nice easy early labour. E was 7lbs and 49cm long and his head was 35cm (bigger than all of them but no big tears even though his big head came so fast, I had only a minor internal tear I chose to leave unsutured and it has healed well.
I do not plan to have another baby, but if I ever did I will be having a private midwife. I could have used a person I trusted to care for me when I wanted it.
So this the end of my story. I am considering writing a different blog, because I have a lot going on in my life which I want to write about. So if you're interested in learning more about me, I will share a link if I choose to start a new one.
Until then
Peace, love and light x
It has been a long journey since I last wrote. I had my baby boy, a perfect healthy little boy who has stolen my heart.
In all honesty, I don't know where to start. His birth was amazing but postpartum as very difficult...
I had an uneventful end of my pregnancy. The drug induced lupus went away once I discontinued the culprit drug and I started on Humira. I did fine with that, no side effects. I was surprised I was able to inject myself because I have always hated needles.
I knew baby would come sooner than my last one, I just had a feeling. I knew I would birth somewhere after 38.5 weeks but before my due date.
37 weeks came and I became incredibly emotional, it was very much like severe depression, which I have gone through before. I could barely get myself out of bed and I cried a lot. I just knew I was at the end. I cried to my mum and she came over with plaster to do a belly cast since I had always wanted to do one.
I spent a lot of time trying to work out what music I wanted playing while I laboured. I fell in love with Merlin's Magic, I would dance to it and meditate in the bath while listening to it on my headphones.
For about a week before E was born, I had nightly contractions that fizzled after 2h, I never once thought I was going into labour but I hoped of course. To distract us from the prodromal labour we would watch a movie right before bed and just chill. Just 2 days before E was born I had a lot of discomfort, the prodromal labour felt like early labour with a badly positioned bub so I spent much of that in the bath trying to move him. I was never able to accurately pinpoint his position, I just knew he was head down and not anterior.
The day before, 6th March, it was my dad's birthday and a full moon. I knew there was something significant about that date. I was 38 weeks and 5 days on that day. I had what would be my last antenatal appointment after I picked my daughter up from school. The midwife said to come straight in once labour started and I said straight out I had no plans to do that. She didn't say anything. I was getting lots of tightenings and bub was 3/5ths engaged, no surprise to me because I was doing my own prenatal care at home (measuring belly and palpating position) I was really wasting my time going but I still went to prove we were both fine.
That night I sat on the bench outside and watched the full moon, talking to my baby and then walked around to my partner who was doing something with the car and mentioned the full moon and how my dad had sent me a message saying there was still time for him to share his birthday. I thought it was cute, my dad was very excited about his new grandson. My partner was off work because he had been sick but was going back the next morning, he was joking around how it would be cool if bub came so he didn't have to go to work the next morning.
I had yet another round of prodromal labour start around 8pm, I was almost convinced it was 'it' until 11pm and it suddenly stopped. I had a bath, went to bed rather grumpy and convinced I was going to be the first person to be pregnant forever. Hilarious considering I was only 38 weeks.
I slept soundly, even R slept well only waking once or twice in the night to nurse. When my partner left for work at 5am I woke as he kissed be goodbye, I fell back asleep and didn't wake until 8am.
Almost on the dot, 8am, I woke up needing to pee and I was having a tightening. Of course I ignored it and got brekky for the kids and made myself a coffee. A slow start, it was Saturday morning and we had no plans.
As I was making breakfast I felt more tightenings with a lot of pressure, I started to wonder because they were different. After about half an hour I was almost sure but it definitely wasn't active labour, I sent a message to my partner saying I thought it was the day but I would let him know when I wanted him to come home. He would normally finish around 10 and be home half an hour later. I sent a message to my mum, even though I wasn't certain I wanted her and my sister there for the birth.
A little while later the tightenings were getting more pushy, not as in baby coming out but baby pushing down and cervix opening. I checked myself but nothing was different and I started thinking I was getting ahead of myself but also saying to myself that dilation meant absolutely nothing. Very early labour I thought to myself.
I put a movie on for the kids and started some housework. I did the dishes and in the middle of that I was certain baby was coming that day and things were moving slower than last time. I called S and the first thing out of my mouth was 'I hope you're thinking of leaving soon' he was packing up and about to leave, he knew that for me to say something was up meant baby was on his way. He knew me better than myself in early labour.
I called my mum and said it was definitely the day, I ended the call saying I would get back to her when I wanted her to come. She was supposed to be there to watch the kids, and my sister was to come so she could see the awesomeness of birth.
I kept cleaning, this was me nesting. I started vacuuming just after 10. I had to hum and sway through some contractions because it was hard to ignore them but they were so irregular and lasted under 30 seconds. I'd be holding onto the vacuum as I swayed, once it stopped I kept going. I was peaceful but in disbelief I was actually in early labour.
Just as I put a sheet over the couch (they were old and stained, I hated them uncovered) S pulled up the driveway. I greeted him at the door and he gave me a kiss all excited. he touched my belly and then we just chatted while I had contractions. I was sitting on my gym ball and noticed that sitting made them quite strong.
Not too long after my parents turned up, it was 1130 and they were just checking in before hanging out in town nearby. Then my sister came and we all just chatted and laughed. it really didn't feel like I was labouring rather than they were there visiting. It was really nice.
I was getting pretty uncomfortable not too long after they came, I sat on my ball and stopped trying to relax and gritted my teeth as I had a contraction. it hurt but not like I had experienced before.
I started to get thirsty, I asked my partner to go to the shops (why I didn't ask or go get a drink I don't know). He and my dad went outside, I assumed they left.
It was just me, my mum and my sister sitting in the lounge bathed in sunlight. It was just before midday and it was a beautiful day.
My mum reminded me to breathe through contractions and then recorded me pacing around during one because sitting was too intense. I laughed at her because she said 'well you wanted a memento right?'... I did, but it felt so weird labouring in front of her, I'd had 2 babies without anyone watching me, it was surreal.
I was getting a bit annoyed and when I was told my dad and S were out the front talking about cars of all things I said they better get a move on or I won't get my drink (I wanted gatoraide or something hydrating, I didn't have any). Mum went out to tell them and then as I was standing taking to my sister after a contraction 'pop' went my waters. I thought it was hilarious and thought they'd gone early this time. I giggled as I waddled down the hallway, dripping amniotic fluid as I went. My sister followed me and wiped up my mess with a towel and then went outside to tell S and my dad to not go anywhere. They'd literally just pulled out of the driveway.
I took my pants off and saw my waters, the smell of birth washed over me. I peed standing because I felt a lot more pressure than before and S walked in. He knew birth was very close and started filling the bath for me. I told him to have the taps all the way on because it wasn't going to fill fast enough, I had a contraction and I yelled through it, I heard my dad call out that I was ok. He didn't know how close his grandson was to being born or that that was the most intense contraction I'd had. A proper labour contraction that I didn't want to do again. After that was over S walked out to check the kids or something, I don't actually know.
I stayed on my hands and knees feeling the pressure, it didn't go away even with contractions coming and going.
With my sister and mum standing in the doorway I ignored them and checked myself and felt bub's head. it didn't exactly click that he was coming but I knew it was close. My sister was clicking away with her camera and my mum got embarrassed because she realised what I was doing. S came back in and held my hand, the contraction didn't stop. I got in the bath (squatted) and took off my crop top. I was naked. I had a rather intense contraction and said I felt like pooping and didn't care if I did (I knew I was pushing but since R took a while I thought E would too). My sister and mum walked out and I had another contraction and it hurt a lot more than the rest, I made a pushy sound and I heard someone say I was pushing but I was off with the fairies at this point.
All of a sudden I felt his head right 'there' and felt it all bulging. I tried not to push but his head was coming and suddenly popped out, I said OMG his head's out and to keep it under the water. A few moments later I realised he wasn't coming out with me squatting in the bath and stuck a leg out and lied back and out came the rest of him in a whoosh. As we pulled him out the water my parents and sister came running in and fortunately someone got a picture of us pulling him out of the water before we got the nuchal cord off. I mentioned the cord and my dad gasped but I said it was fine.
We popped him on my chest and he just lied there on my chest looking around, my mum came over and rubbed his back a little and I insisted he was ok, it would take him a moment to cry because he came out so fast, his cord was providing what he needed.
My first thoughts were that he was so little, almost prem compared to R who was 8lbs. Then he let out a cute but hearty cry and I heard my dad say 'that's what we want to hear'. I imagine it felt like an eternity, considering I never prepared him for the realities of birth. He only had his ambo training and his own children's births to go by. I birth differently and my expectation are less medicalised.
I was overwhelmed with joy and cried as I held him. It was really cool to share that moment with them. My dad walked over to the bath, he thanked me for letting him be there and I saw tears in his eyes. It was a special moment I never in a million years could have guessed would happen.
I got out of the bath, I didn't want to be in there and felt a bit lightheaded because of it and E had his first boobie. They took pictures and we all had a good look at him. We went into the lounge, E still boobin' and after the cord was empty I cut it and we waited for the placenta.
I did it, I had a water birth (I didn't plan on it), my son was earthside safely and surrounded by the people who loved him most.
I did go to the hospital before the placenta came, the cord was cut in preparation, I was very lightheaded, my BP dropped and I made the call to go. I knew if I was at risk of bleeding due to the speed of birth and it wasn't the ideal quiet dark environment I needed and didn't feel like everything was 100%. I just needed to lie down but we were all a bit shocked because none of us expected E to pop out within 10 minutes of my water breaking. I was ok but the stranger midwife did pull on the placenta out of panic, it hurt very much. I said to stop multiple times and was ignored but I did report her for violating me in that way. No means no, stop means stop....
I knew the placenta wasn't ready, it was not even an hour after birth and my BP had stabilised so she was unnecessarily pulling. I grew terrified she would cause exactly what I was there to make sure didn't happen. It hurt a lot, I am certain she pulled it off too soon and I did bleed a lot but not too much (I was quite anaemic afterwards needing an infusion a couple of months after when I saw my specialist for my crohn's, I had very good iron levels at 36 weeks) The excuse for why it hurt was that I had a mild accretia (slightly imbedded into the uterine wall, deeper than it should but not enough for a manual extraction), which upon inspecting the placenta I know to be untrue. She just didn't wait. If she was worried I would have let her give syntocin but she never explained herself. I felt like I was being punished for having him at home.
The visit to the hospital was horrible, I will go into it more later but not in this post, it is long enough and I don't want to ruin an otherwise good birth story. I have postpartum depression and my PTSD was triggered. It took 6 months before I didn't cry at the memory but I've got a way to go before I'll be ok.
I don't regret anything, if anything I have been taught more than I hoped. I will one day be a midwife and I'll be more careful with how I treat my mothers and babies.
Baby E was born at 12:16, on Saturday the 7th March. Active labour was under half an hour, with a nice easy early labour. E was 7lbs and 49cm long and his head was 35cm (bigger than all of them but no big tears even though his big head came so fast, I had only a minor internal tear I chose to leave unsutured and it has healed well.
I do not plan to have another baby, but if I ever did I will be having a private midwife. I could have used a person I trusted to care for me when I wanted it.
So this the end of my story. I am considering writing a different blog, because I have a lot going on in my life which I want to write about. So if you're interested in learning more about me, I will share a link if I choose to start a new one.
Until then
Peace, love and light x
Wednesday, 21 January 2015
Update 15 - 32 weeks
I haven't written anything for quite a while because so much has been going on...
Firstly, I am now 32+4 and baby is growing beautifully, my pregnancy has gone quite smoothly considering.
So what has been happening since my last update at something like 15 weeks? I'll be writing as things come to me.. after all this is just a public diary of sorts... this will get long....
I have already mentioned I have Crohn's disease, and had a major flare not long after the birth of baby R. As a result of that flare I ended up in and out of hospital. I lost an extreme amount of weight (I was around 70kg and was 50kg by the end) I lost muscle and I was severely depressed and traumatised from the complete lack of control over what was going on with my body and medical interventions. I was officially 'in remission' as of December but I still had some ulceration in June, then one of my medications dosage was increased.
I was on remicade/infliximab infusions bi-monthly and that was what kept me well. For a while.
A few months after starting the infusions I started getting some pain in some joints, beginning with my hands and wrists. I conceived some time in early June (according to my ultrasound), and I was terrified of being pregnant so soon after being unwell...
Slowly over a few months the joint pain got worse and included not only my hands but my knees, elbows, feet, jaw... literally every joint in my body. At 10 weeks I started getting inflammation elsewhere, pleurisy of all things even though I had not had any kind of respiratory illness but nobody could tell me what was going on.... my GI said it could be just another 'wonderful' part of my disease...
At 12 weeks I had enough, I was unable to move so I begged my doctor for a referral to someone could help me and he referred me to the rheumatologists. He did and also prescribed sulfasalazine which he thought may help with the joint pain.
I finally got to see the rheumatologists when I was 15 weeks, they weren't sure what was going on but suspected either rheumatoid arthritis or drug induced lupus... I had so many blood tests it was ridiculous. I was seeing my GI every month and my appointments with the rheumatologists were 2 weeks apart. We needed to know what was going on because as my pregnancy progressed, my joints were loosening and the pain was unbearable.
I was then referred to the immunologists, thinking it was most likely to be drug induced lupus since the symptoms started not too long after I began the infusions. I was also getting a rash every time I was exposed to sunlight and my fingers would turn purple at the tips when I got cold. Common lupus symptoms. I was prescribed a lupus/anti-malarial drug called Plaquenil... I was wary of going on yet another drug especially when this one was not usually recommended for pregnancy (but not unsafe) but I had no other choice... I was losing my mind and suffering greatly. Steroids weren't yet an option because we needed to see what my bloods were doing.
When my bloods came back it was confirmed I had drug induced lupus and needed to stop the remicade infusions, I had very high levels of antibodies and it was destroying my joints and the pleurisy was so bad that sometimes I couldn't breathe properly. I, then, had to discuss with my GI what to do next... We decided the next option was another biologic/anti-TNF blocker, Humira injections. This drug isn't made with mouse and human proteins like remicade, only human so it's possible I won't have a reaction to that.
I had my morphology ultrasound at 20 weeks where we found out we are expecting another boy, much to my surprise because I was absolutely convinced I was having a girl. I did grieve for a bit, knowing that my daughter badly wanted a baby sister... however he was perfect! I had worried so much that I wouldn't be able to grow a healthy baby. My darling daughter is now ok with not getting a sister, i will probably go a little overboard with the girly things she likes because of it... she loves glitter, fairies and ponies as well as trucks, dirt and the stereotypical 'boy things'... we are a gender neutral house, they like what they like and we do not stop them from being kids.
At 22 weeks I saw the rheumatologist again and FINALLY I was given a steroid shot (depo-medrol, it is a slow release version so I wouldn't have to take the pills which do not agree with me) to stop the inflammation and give me some desperately needed relief. It was becoming obvious that 2 weeks after my infusions I would flare up, worse each time, and a few days before I was due for the infusion the symptoms would ease. The shot made a huge difference to the joint pain I was experiencing at the time, I could walk at night and use my hands again
So the infusion I would have had early December, I didn't have. I also, did not have the lupus flare up badly again! On Christmas day I was out in the sun for a little while earlier in the day and before lunch time my joints mildly flared but the worst was the pleurisy.. I spent the entire day and that night struggling to breathe... it got to the point where S was worried.. I got a bit pale from breathing so shallowly... but I was getting just enough oxygen... only just... lying on the painful side was the only thing to give relief because my lung wouldn't scape so much against the inflammation.
At 29 weeks I had another ultrasound to monitor baby's growth, I had a low PAPP-A result early in my pregnancy and with Crohn's we wanted to make sure his growth was not being restricted. He certainly was not suffering in the slightest! 60th percentile and some parts were measuring around 35 weeks (his tubby little tummy) I know measurements are off/inaccurate but this was very reassuring. It also shut the OB up about growth restriction because my previous fundal height measurement was 2 weeks small... I didn't get worried because I had actually measured myself the same day and got a completely different measurement.. to me, he was spot on. In fact, the numbers (both around and fundus) were the same as baby R at exactly the same gestation. Part of me wonders if the Dr wasn't feeling properly or if he was trying to get a small measurement on purpose.. I never met him before and he said a few times how 'strong and healthy' I looked for someone with crohn's although he had only seen a few people over the years with it... he really lacked any knowledge on Crohn's...
At this point the doctors wanted to see me every fortnight. Much to my displeasure. I was really sick of seeing doctors all the time... I was feeling like a sick person and not a pregnant mother... my mental health really started to suffer... I started losing myself and wanted to sleep every moment my partner was home from work.
I saw the OB (yet another one, but he was much younger and had a better bedside manner) when I was 30 weeks, I told him it was certain I was going on Humira, I gave him the letter my GI wrote for them and then he started going on about needing to start going to the big hospital because the small local one I was at didn't have the technology to deal with complications very well and we would be immediately transferred if I was already at the local one... he spoke to the head OB which was the one saw at my first OB visit and I really didn't like him.. he agreed a transfer of my care was necessary they were afraid of the unknown...I said how on earth am I going to get all the way to the city in time because I labour fast, and once again induction at 39 weeks came up... I told him I don't like the idea of induction due to the very small but unacceptable risk of infection, especially when it's not fair that the reason is because the hospital is ill-equipped to deal with such issues (I'm calling BS because they do caesareans and ALL hospitals have to have something to deal with such issues.. otherwise why on earth are they having women go there to give birth??!?)... surprisingly his answer was 'then it would be better off if baby was born before going to the hospital'... I couldn't believe it, was he really saying to me to have baby at home???? He was aware I have had 2 unassisted births and knew what I was doing...
He said he would organise the transfer of my care, saying 'I hope to see you there' because he was transferring to that same hospital in February... but now that I am 32+4 and STILL haven't heard from the hospital (and honestly I haven't wanted to chase them when there is no need) Ireally don't feel it is necessary to travel over an hour for a 5-10 minute appointment where I can do all the same things myself at home... it has already been well established that my pregnancy and I are doing fine, my baby is growing beautifully...
So, where am I at now... I discussed with my GI last week what risks are there really with my Humira (which I started on the 2nd and I self inject every fortnight) and he said my baby is NOT at risk of complications (like breathing difficulties) as a result. I will be skipping the last shot prior to my due date so baby has less of the drug in his system but that's so we aren't quite as immune compromised. I do not have to worry like the OBs are, in fact he said they are acting on information that is 50 years old!! He couldn't believe it when I told him they were transferring my care to another hospital....
Humira is fine, and I am even encouraged to breastfeed as long as I want to while on it. My GI said if baby was born at home it is unlikely he would have issues, it is only really if we get an infection or if I tear badly I am at risk of developing fistulas/ abscesses...I am not expecting a severe tear...and if I tear I will obviously expect to be stitched up adequately.
So, with that information and listening to my instincts, I am not going to continue antenatal care at the city hospital, I'll probably go once or twice more at my local one (I will be calling them to let them know of my plan) or just go it unassisted again and call them if anything unusual pops up. I will be having baby at home with my mum and S present. I am so done with it all and it has severely affected my mental health, I have never been so depressed during pregnancy before... So far all the fear they have put on me has been without any actual evidence but due to their own ignorance... too bad for me if I was to go through with an induction when he's not ready and end up with a caesarean for failure to progress/infection... the potential complications are huge! Definitely not something I feel is acceptable to risk.
So that's is all my musings and an update for now.. I am hoping this pregnancy is more enjoyable now that I am backing away a bit... I have hated being pregnant so far as much as I despise saying that.. this is definitely my last baby (planning a tubal ligation) and I want it to be a positive experience... IF the universe decides I'm not to have a perfect pregnancy and birth from this point on, I am ok with that...I will do what I need to so that my baby is born healthy and thriving...
Namaste xo
Firstly, I am now 32+4 and baby is growing beautifully, my pregnancy has gone quite smoothly considering.
So what has been happening since my last update at something like 15 weeks? I'll be writing as things come to me.. after all this is just a public diary of sorts... this will get long....
I have already mentioned I have Crohn's disease, and had a major flare not long after the birth of baby R. As a result of that flare I ended up in and out of hospital. I lost an extreme amount of weight (I was around 70kg and was 50kg by the end) I lost muscle and I was severely depressed and traumatised from the complete lack of control over what was going on with my body and medical interventions. I was officially 'in remission' as of December but I still had some ulceration in June, then one of my medications dosage was increased.
I was on remicade/infliximab infusions bi-monthly and that was what kept me well. For a while.
A few months after starting the infusions I started getting some pain in some joints, beginning with my hands and wrists. I conceived some time in early June (according to my ultrasound), and I was terrified of being pregnant so soon after being unwell...
Slowly over a few months the joint pain got worse and included not only my hands but my knees, elbows, feet, jaw... literally every joint in my body. At 10 weeks I started getting inflammation elsewhere, pleurisy of all things even though I had not had any kind of respiratory illness but nobody could tell me what was going on.... my GI said it could be just another 'wonderful' part of my disease...
At 12 weeks I had enough, I was unable to move so I begged my doctor for a referral to someone could help me and he referred me to the rheumatologists. He did and also prescribed sulfasalazine which he thought may help with the joint pain.
I finally got to see the rheumatologists when I was 15 weeks, they weren't sure what was going on but suspected either rheumatoid arthritis or drug induced lupus... I had so many blood tests it was ridiculous. I was seeing my GI every month and my appointments with the rheumatologists were 2 weeks apart. We needed to know what was going on because as my pregnancy progressed, my joints were loosening and the pain was unbearable.
I was then referred to the immunologists, thinking it was most likely to be drug induced lupus since the symptoms started not too long after I began the infusions. I was also getting a rash every time I was exposed to sunlight and my fingers would turn purple at the tips when I got cold. Common lupus symptoms. I was prescribed a lupus/anti-malarial drug called Plaquenil... I was wary of going on yet another drug especially when this one was not usually recommended for pregnancy (but not unsafe) but I had no other choice... I was losing my mind and suffering greatly. Steroids weren't yet an option because we needed to see what my bloods were doing.
When my bloods came back it was confirmed I had drug induced lupus and needed to stop the remicade infusions, I had very high levels of antibodies and it was destroying my joints and the pleurisy was so bad that sometimes I couldn't breathe properly. I, then, had to discuss with my GI what to do next... We decided the next option was another biologic/anti-TNF blocker, Humira injections. This drug isn't made with mouse and human proteins like remicade, only human so it's possible I won't have a reaction to that.
I had my morphology ultrasound at 20 weeks where we found out we are expecting another boy, much to my surprise because I was absolutely convinced I was having a girl. I did grieve for a bit, knowing that my daughter badly wanted a baby sister... however he was perfect! I had worried so much that I wouldn't be able to grow a healthy baby. My darling daughter is now ok with not getting a sister, i will probably go a little overboard with the girly things she likes because of it... she loves glitter, fairies and ponies as well as trucks, dirt and the stereotypical 'boy things'... we are a gender neutral house, they like what they like and we do not stop them from being kids.
At 22 weeks I saw the rheumatologist again and FINALLY I was given a steroid shot (depo-medrol, it is a slow release version so I wouldn't have to take the pills which do not agree with me) to stop the inflammation and give me some desperately needed relief. It was becoming obvious that 2 weeks after my infusions I would flare up, worse each time, and a few days before I was due for the infusion the symptoms would ease. The shot made a huge difference to the joint pain I was experiencing at the time, I could walk at night and use my hands again
So the infusion I would have had early December, I didn't have. I also, did not have the lupus flare up badly again! On Christmas day I was out in the sun for a little while earlier in the day and before lunch time my joints mildly flared but the worst was the pleurisy.. I spent the entire day and that night struggling to breathe... it got to the point where S was worried.. I got a bit pale from breathing so shallowly... but I was getting just enough oxygen... only just... lying on the painful side was the only thing to give relief because my lung wouldn't scape so much against the inflammation.
At 29 weeks I had another ultrasound to monitor baby's growth, I had a low PAPP-A result early in my pregnancy and with Crohn's we wanted to make sure his growth was not being restricted. He certainly was not suffering in the slightest! 60th percentile and some parts were measuring around 35 weeks (his tubby little tummy) I know measurements are off/inaccurate but this was very reassuring. It also shut the OB up about growth restriction because my previous fundal height measurement was 2 weeks small... I didn't get worried because I had actually measured myself the same day and got a completely different measurement.. to me, he was spot on. In fact, the numbers (both around and fundus) were the same as baby R at exactly the same gestation. Part of me wonders if the Dr wasn't feeling properly or if he was trying to get a small measurement on purpose.. I never met him before and he said a few times how 'strong and healthy' I looked for someone with crohn's although he had only seen a few people over the years with it... he really lacked any knowledge on Crohn's...
At this point the doctors wanted to see me every fortnight. Much to my displeasure. I was really sick of seeing doctors all the time... I was feeling like a sick person and not a pregnant mother... my mental health really started to suffer... I started losing myself and wanted to sleep every moment my partner was home from work.
I saw the OB (yet another one, but he was much younger and had a better bedside manner) when I was 30 weeks, I told him it was certain I was going on Humira, I gave him the letter my GI wrote for them and then he started going on about needing to start going to the big hospital because the small local one I was at didn't have the technology to deal with complications very well and we would be immediately transferred if I was already at the local one... he spoke to the head OB which was the one saw at my first OB visit and I really didn't like him.. he agreed a transfer of my care was necessary they were afraid of the unknown...I said how on earth am I going to get all the way to the city in time because I labour fast, and once again induction at 39 weeks came up... I told him I don't like the idea of induction due to the very small but unacceptable risk of infection, especially when it's not fair that the reason is because the hospital is ill-equipped to deal with such issues (I'm calling BS because they do caesareans and ALL hospitals have to have something to deal with such issues.. otherwise why on earth are they having women go there to give birth??!?)... surprisingly his answer was 'then it would be better off if baby was born before going to the hospital'... I couldn't believe it, was he really saying to me to have baby at home???? He was aware I have had 2 unassisted births and knew what I was doing...
He said he would organise the transfer of my care, saying 'I hope to see you there' because he was transferring to that same hospital in February... but now that I am 32+4 and STILL haven't heard from the hospital (and honestly I haven't wanted to chase them when there is no need) Ireally don't feel it is necessary to travel over an hour for a 5-10 minute appointment where I can do all the same things myself at home... it has already been well established that my pregnancy and I are doing fine, my baby is growing beautifully...
So, where am I at now... I discussed with my GI last week what risks are there really with my Humira (which I started on the 2nd and I self inject every fortnight) and he said my baby is NOT at risk of complications (like breathing difficulties) as a result. I will be skipping the last shot prior to my due date so baby has less of the drug in his system but that's so we aren't quite as immune compromised. I do not have to worry like the OBs are, in fact he said they are acting on information that is 50 years old!! He couldn't believe it when I told him they were transferring my care to another hospital....
Humira is fine, and I am even encouraged to breastfeed as long as I want to while on it. My GI said if baby was born at home it is unlikely he would have issues, it is only really if we get an infection or if I tear badly I am at risk of developing fistulas/ abscesses...I am not expecting a severe tear...and if I tear I will obviously expect to be stitched up adequately.
So, with that information and listening to my instincts, I am not going to continue antenatal care at the city hospital, I'll probably go once or twice more at my local one (I will be calling them to let them know of my plan) or just go it unassisted again and call them if anything unusual pops up. I will be having baby at home with my mum and S present. I am so done with it all and it has severely affected my mental health, I have never been so depressed during pregnancy before... So far all the fear they have put on me has been without any actual evidence but due to their own ignorance... too bad for me if I was to go through with an induction when he's not ready and end up with a caesarean for failure to progress/infection... the potential complications are huge! Definitely not something I feel is acceptable to risk.
So that's is all my musings and an update for now.. I am hoping this pregnancy is more enjoyable now that I am backing away a bit... I have hated being pregnant so far as much as I despise saying that.. this is definitely my last baby (planning a tubal ligation) and I want it to be a positive experience... IF the universe decides I'm not to have a perfect pregnancy and birth from this point on, I am ok with that...I will do what I need to so that my baby is born healthy and thriving...
Namaste xo
Sunday, 28 September 2014
PLACENTA ENCAPSULATION (raw method, using an oven)
Placenta encapsulation is quite simple, I spent hours digging through as many webpages to find out how it is done. I did not want to pay for someone to do something I could do myself, but I highly recommend doing so if you are squeamish or don't want to be involve in the process but want the pills.
Before starting I was a bit nervous, having never seen one up close before. After birth I looked over the placenta and its anatomy, making sure all the cotyledons were all there (any missing would be assumed retained and have to be removed to avoid infection and excessive bleeding). Then I put it in the freezer until I was ready to encapsulate.
I found it all to be thoroughly enjoyable. Afterwards I felt complete :)
These are the steps I took to get my placenta into pills! I am rather computer illiterate when it comes to adding pictures and editing them, but I tried and that's what counts.
If you want to share, please share this entire post, not just the pictures.
Step 1. Make sure the placenta is thoroughly washed, as I was doing the raw method (no steaming) I had to make extra sure it was clean. I bleached all surfaces prior to starting (chopping board, knife, sink and I wore gloves). Starting with a sterile environment is vital.Before starting I was a bit nervous, having never seen one up close before. After birth I looked over the placenta and its anatomy, making sure all the cotyledons were all there (any missing would be assumed retained and have to be removed to avoid infection and excessive bleeding). Then I put it in the freezer until I was ready to encapsulate.
I found it all to be thoroughly enjoyable. Afterwards I felt complete :)
These are the steps I took to get my placenta into pills! I am rather computer illiterate when it comes to adding pictures and editing them, but I tried and that's what counts.
If you want to share, please share this entire post, not just the pictures.
The first 2 pictures are to show the different sides of the placenta, I love the second one, my baby was in there :) It is quite red due to the blood still in there, as I washed it, the colour went pink.
I'm not 100% on what the blotches are, they weren't there prior to freezing it (there were small spots of blood in the cord) so I assume it is due to the blood being there and being frozen (correct me if I am wrong!)
The maternal side, as you can guess, is where it was attached to my uterus, the lumpy bits are the cotyledons. It is rather odd too look at, it reminded me of lungs. The fetal side is the side baby was in. The fetal side is smooth and veiny, and obviously that is where the cord inserts.
Step 2 is remove the cord and the membranes, leaving just the main part of the placenta.
Then slice it all up as thin as you can manage and arrange on the tray.
Step 3. put the oven on as low as you can manage, I think mine was about 60 degrees Celsius and I had the door open a tiny bit.
This was the longest part of the process. It took roughly 18 hours. For a very long time it looked done except for little pink spots as seen above.
When the placenta was nice and dry, you should be able to snap it not bend it.
Then you need to grind it up, not quite into a powder but close to.
This was the longest part of the process. It took roughly 18 hours. For a very long time it looked done except for little pink spots as seen above.
When the placenta was nice and dry, you should be able to snap it not bend it.
Then you need to grind it up, not quite into a powder but close to.
I had a capsule machine, I got mine from Ebay and 00 size capsules (you can choose if you want smaller or larger, keeping in mind you do not want to have too much in one pill at a time due to the hormones). With it on the stand, you put half the capsule in the base, the other side of the capsule in the top. Fill the capsules with the ground up placenta and use the spreader card. Pack them a little and add a bit more (to make sure the capsules are decently filled, don't press too hard). Put the top on with the other halves of the capsules and press. This joins the capsules together without any mess.
Make sure you store it in a airtight container with one of the desiccant bags that comes with the capsule machine (if you get one in the complete package), I like to keep mine in the freezer so I don't have to worry about them going 'off'. They can be kept in the freezer indefinitely, some women like to keep them for menopause.
So there you have it! How I encapsulated my placenta :)
I did not use any herbs, it's best to not add anything.
Oh, one last pic, if you read this far then you may also find this as cool as I do.
During the process I discovered a cool little thing, the yolk sac! This little thing was between the amnion and the chorion, this is what nourished my baby before the placenta took over.
And that is it! the placenta encapsulation process, raw method using an oven as a dehydrator.
I hope I have been helpful if you choose to encapsulate your own placenta (or even for a friend ;))
Namaste
Tuesday, 23 September 2014
Surprise! I'm getting back into writing :D
It's been quite a while and I have neglected my blog, but now I plan to get back into things :)
Why suddenly start writing again?
I'm expecting baby #4!
Total surprise, we were avoiding but the universe had other plans.
I'm 15 weeks currently and it has been an incredibly stressful pregnancy so far.
When I was 7 weeks I told my gastroenterologist I was pregnant. I had a severe flare last year and had only been in remission (with a small amount of ulceration discovered in June literally days before I was meant to have conceived according to my ultrasound, that has been managed with an increase of my 6mp, I am symptom and inflammation free) as of December and wanted to know immediately how my treatment was going to change.
Fortunately for me, I can safely stay on my medication but the infusions will be stopped at 32 weeks so baby isn't as immune supressed as if I was to stop it later. Baby will still be immune supressed for 6 months so I will have to be extra cautious, as I am with myself.
You may be wondering, if I will be doing either the birth or the pregnancy unassisted again. The answer is no, not at this point in time, and definitely not the pregnancy, this is a time when I need a professional to anticipate and detect any abnormality.
This pregnancy is high risk due to my Crohn's disease.
With Crohn's disease your baby is at risk of low birth weight and premature birth. Also due to the type of medication I am on, I am at a significantly higher risk of infection.
While I have always been mildly flaring from the age of 17 and haven't had any issues (my daughter was lucky she was born at term and was just over the threshold for low birth weight, at the time we attributed that to my hyperemesis and struggle to gain weight, we now know my Crohn's was also a factor) after what we call a mega-flare, I have lost some faith in my body. I know my gut is scarred and may not absorb the nutrients necessary. I'm not taking any chances when things with my Crohn's has changed.
When I was 11 weeks I had the nuchal translucency ultrasound and related bloods because with 6mp defects can occur (there is not all that much research out there for me to say it's perfectly safe) but given how severe my Crohn's is, it is safer for me to be on medication than not. If I flare, I could lose my baby and my life. It's a fairly easy decision to make.
When I saw the OB he said the bloods (PAPP-A) level was a little low, not significant though but it means I will need another hormone test later on and monitor the growth of baby closely. Low PAPP-A levels can indicate a problem with the placenta function, but doesn't always indicate a problem at all, the placenta could just be a little on the smaller end of normal. I see the Dr. in a few weeks and I plan to get the specific numbers. Because I like to work with numbers. With autoimmune diseases a low PAPP-A level seems rather common, hence the risk of preterm birth and low birth weight, so I am very aware my baby may be small or born early.
I'm not 100% comfortable with the OB I met, the very first thing he mentioned to me after introduction was induction at 39 weeks after a cervical examination. For no other reason besides I give birth very quickly and might not make it to the hospital. I said I would not discuss induction until it became medically necessary but I'm sure it will be brought up again...
I will not hesitate to be induced if there is a problem with me or the baby/placenta, but I will not endure an induction and the risk of infection from people putting things in my vagina for the purposes of ensuring I'm in hospital when I give birth if everything is actually fine. Thankfully there are other OBs that work at the hospital I am getting my prenatal care at so I can get different opinions.
I have been assigned a one to one care midwife (group practice midwife), I have only spoken to her on the phone so I haven't made an opinion about her yet, I meet her in about a month. She does a lot of water births, so assuming I make it to term and don't decide last minute to stay home, I will be having a water birth.
I cannot safely have an unassisted pregnancy, as I said before, my baby will be monitored closely and have at least one growth ultrasound around 32 weeks. I am not sure at this point in time if I am comfortable with unassisted birth, it really depends on the health of my baby and myself. Crohn's does not stop me safely giving birth (or I would not have had R at home unassisted) but after last years flare, I'm not going to pretend things haven't changed.
I have been incredibly stressed because of the extra attention from the medical professionals I had not anticipated and the unexpected timing of the pregnancy itself, the most significant stress factor is the fear, the overwhelming fear that something could go wrong.
My estimated due date is the 15th of March, just a couple of weeks before my daughter's 6th birthday.
This probably way too long now so I will end this here. I'll share a belly pic progression next post and will write about the placenta encapsulation I did last year as promised, pictures included. I will also update more on D, J and R.
I am still nursing R, I am not weaning him unless I need to for medical reasons.
I look forward to sharing this journey, and if you have any questions I will answer as best as I can.
Namaste.
Why suddenly start writing again?
I'm expecting baby #4!
Total surprise, we were avoiding but the universe had other plans.
I'm 15 weeks currently and it has been an incredibly stressful pregnancy so far.
When I was 7 weeks I told my gastroenterologist I was pregnant. I had a severe flare last year and had only been in remission (with a small amount of ulceration discovered in June literally days before I was meant to have conceived according to my ultrasound, that has been managed with an increase of my 6mp, I am symptom and inflammation free) as of December and wanted to know immediately how my treatment was going to change.
Fortunately for me, I can safely stay on my medication but the infusions will be stopped at 32 weeks so baby isn't as immune supressed as if I was to stop it later. Baby will still be immune supressed for 6 months so I will have to be extra cautious, as I am with myself.
You may be wondering, if I will be doing either the birth or the pregnancy unassisted again. The answer is no, not at this point in time, and definitely not the pregnancy, this is a time when I need a professional to anticipate and detect any abnormality.
This pregnancy is high risk due to my Crohn's disease.
With Crohn's disease your baby is at risk of low birth weight and premature birth. Also due to the type of medication I am on, I am at a significantly higher risk of infection.
While I have always been mildly flaring from the age of 17 and haven't had any issues (my daughter was lucky she was born at term and was just over the threshold for low birth weight, at the time we attributed that to my hyperemesis and struggle to gain weight, we now know my Crohn's was also a factor) after what we call a mega-flare, I have lost some faith in my body. I know my gut is scarred and may not absorb the nutrients necessary. I'm not taking any chances when things with my Crohn's has changed.
When I was 11 weeks I had the nuchal translucency ultrasound and related bloods because with 6mp defects can occur (there is not all that much research out there for me to say it's perfectly safe) but given how severe my Crohn's is, it is safer for me to be on medication than not. If I flare, I could lose my baby and my life. It's a fairly easy decision to make.
When I saw the OB he said the bloods (PAPP-A) level was a little low, not significant though but it means I will need another hormone test later on and monitor the growth of baby closely. Low PAPP-A levels can indicate a problem with the placenta function, but doesn't always indicate a problem at all, the placenta could just be a little on the smaller end of normal. I see the Dr. in a few weeks and I plan to get the specific numbers. Because I like to work with numbers. With autoimmune diseases a low PAPP-A level seems rather common, hence the risk of preterm birth and low birth weight, so I am very aware my baby may be small or born early.
I'm not 100% comfortable with the OB I met, the very first thing he mentioned to me after introduction was induction at 39 weeks after a cervical examination. For no other reason besides I give birth very quickly and might not make it to the hospital. I said I would not discuss induction until it became medically necessary but I'm sure it will be brought up again...
I will not hesitate to be induced if there is a problem with me or the baby/placenta, but I will not endure an induction and the risk of infection from people putting things in my vagina for the purposes of ensuring I'm in hospital when I give birth if everything is actually fine. Thankfully there are other OBs that work at the hospital I am getting my prenatal care at so I can get different opinions.
I have been assigned a one to one care midwife (group practice midwife), I have only spoken to her on the phone so I haven't made an opinion about her yet, I meet her in about a month. She does a lot of water births, so assuming I make it to term and don't decide last minute to stay home, I will be having a water birth.
I cannot safely have an unassisted pregnancy, as I said before, my baby will be monitored closely and have at least one growth ultrasound around 32 weeks. I am not sure at this point in time if I am comfortable with unassisted birth, it really depends on the health of my baby and myself. Crohn's does not stop me safely giving birth (or I would not have had R at home unassisted) but after last years flare, I'm not going to pretend things haven't changed.
I have been incredibly stressed because of the extra attention from the medical professionals I had not anticipated and the unexpected timing of the pregnancy itself, the most significant stress factor is the fear, the overwhelming fear that something could go wrong.
My estimated due date is the 15th of March, just a couple of weeks before my daughter's 6th birthday.
This probably way too long now so I will end this here. I'll share a belly pic progression next post and will write about the placenta encapsulation I did last year as promised, pictures included. I will also update more on D, J and R.
I am still nursing R, I am not weaning him unless I need to for medical reasons.
I look forward to sharing this journey, and if you have any questions I will answer as best as I can.
Namaste.
Sunday, 16 February 2014
Crohn's Disease *May be triggering*
It's been a rather long time since I updated. A lot has happened.
Firstly, R has fitted in well with our family, I honestly believe it is easier going from 2 to 3 children than it is 1 to 2. It is like he has always been here.
R stared crawling at 5 months, standing at 8 months and is started walking at 10 months. 'Mama' was his first word and now he says 'mama baba' when he wants to nurse :)
But it has not been easy for me. I was aware I was high risk for developing PPD and I did not escape this time. Not for reasons related to parenting though. I have Crohn's disease and since May I was flaring severely and had 2 hospital admissions.
R was about 6 weeks old when I noticed my health declining, I (as is common with incurable diseases, especially in the first years) thought I was bigger than it and could cure it with diet... yeah, cure an autoimmune disease with food... it didn't happen obviously.
I looked into the GAPS diet, it seemed fantastic! The reviews are great, so I went out one week and spent over $250 on food from the list.
I thought eating healthy would help so I put off seeing my doctor. Since moving back to South Australia I was without my GI and really had nobody to go to. My old GI started working somewhere else so I put it off... Hoping, praying to the universe that my gut would heal.
By May, I was very sick. My fiancé had enough of seeing me suffer and was worried about me so he took me to the hospital where I found out I was really, really sick...
My Crohn's was diagnosed in 2009, after 2 years of mild flaring. I had my daughter and then flared up badly, my liver was affected and I developed severe inflammation in my gallbladder and gallstones. I had surgery at 5 weeks PP and honestly don't remember much more. I started getting sicker, and sicker, scared out of my mind I had cancer because I was bleeding... So I went to the doctor.
I was put on 6MP - an immune suppressant drug that supresses bone marrow production. I never got to the point where I was ok, my inflammation markers only got as low as 8. But it was apparently ok with my doctor.. after all, he wasn't the one suffering....
I had my second, a son, I was monitored my entire pregnancy, every few weeks we would check all my bloods. I was fine, pregnancy is good to me...
After I had my son, I was better off than I was after my first. Crohn's tends to flare up about 6 weeks after birth because the immune system is no longer supressed for the pregnancy. I continued my care until 10 months PP when we made the decision to move interstate.
I was at the point in my life where I got used to a bit of pain, and the other symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhoea. I didn't eat takeaway food which helped... fatty foods are a trigger. We decided, while I was healthier than I had been in years, to have another baby. Baby R.
I was almost perfect during my pregnancy, I avoided my triggers and things were going well. I gave birth to a healthy 8lb boy after a easy but emotionally 'difficult' unassisted birth (I will elaborate on this next entry, I do not regret freebirthing and would do it again without a second thought)
We moved when R was 5 weeks, back to SA. I was depressed, we lost our home in the flood due to the cyclone and I was beginning to flare. Life was only just beginning to test me.
So, to where I was in the beginning. I tried to 'cure' (not possible) my disease but I just kept getting worse. The pain was severe, I cried all day every day and considered suicide often. I was trapped in a body that was failing me. I could feel myself getting weaker. Weeks went by where I refused to see a doctor, I was extremely uneducated about Crohn's, my doctor never gave me any advice besides - Google.... yeah, thanks Doc...
I started getting dizzy spells, I couldn't eat or drink.. I was like a zombie.. just existing and breastfeeding... I went from 65kg to 55 without trying. I started vomiting and pooping blood.
My partner took me to hospital, he called ahead and told them what he was observing and the nurse said to come in immediately... and to call an ambulance if I was to drop... so I got scared...
We went in, less than 15 minutes in an extremely busy hospital I was in my own cubicle and they were taking blood, putting in IV's and doing all sorts of scans. And it all went crazy from there.
I mentioned being able to have R with me this stay, but it was not without a fight. I had administrators coming to me asking if there was any way R could go home, if we could consider feeding him expressed milk, if my OH could take him to me from 8am to 8pm so he could nurse... but he was only 5 months and had a cold which became bronchiolitis. He needed me. They tried transferring me to another hospital but none had any beds. The women's hospital would not take me because I was only breastfeeding... not pregnant..
They moved me from the main ER to another area in ER where I had privacy, the admin came back and we had the agreement that I would have R with me but I would be required to have a midwife with me all times at night and R would sleep in a port-a-cot. I could still breastfeed my baby so of course this was a great compromise.
Then, my treatment began... I was severely dehydrated and dangerously low on electrolytes. My potassium was extremely low, I could have had a heart attack if I left it any longer, it was a surprise it hadn't happened already... they told me that was why I was feeling so weak and my heart was feeling like it was pounding all the time. I had 8L of fluids go through me in 24 hours, IV steroids and heparin shots. BUT that's rather dismissive of what I went through.. I need to process it.. so here it is..
First IV, failed, second... failed.. 3 failed.... I had 18 failed attempts before I was hydrated enough for the line to stay in. I even had a surgeon tissue it (go through the vein into the tissue)... I was tired, in pain and I hate needles so this was traumatising... at 2 am after yet another failed, I was distressed. Even the midwife took R out (with permission) for a moment because I was that upset. She said she would give me time to calm down... she was lovely. I regret not remembering her name so I can thank her.
After the surgeon's IV failed, another doctor came in and attempted it. I had an hour with out being jabbed so I was in a better emotional place. I had a chance to sleep/ meditate. FINALLY the IV went in and stayed in... for a while.
R was my light in the darkness, had I been alone, I would have been far worse....
The next few days were a blur of poking, needles, Obs and lots of tears. I was not allowed to eat for the first day or so, not that I cared. I had no idea what my treatment would be, or how things actually were. I was told they would just monitor me. I felt like giving up.
I graduated to free-fluids and then as the steroids started to do their magic, I progressed onto low residue and had Ensure help me gain weight and to fill in the nutritional gaps... R slept in bed with me and nursed whenever. His cold became bronchiolitis so I had to transfer or send him home... I couldn't deny him the breast so I chose to transfer, luckily this time there was a bed.
On my last day before transferring to a different hospital things turned sour.
I had a midwife turn against me, probably because I snapped at her for waking R at 9:30 at night. We didn't click, unlike the others. She went behind my back and started telling everyone I needed to give my bub formula, he was STARVING apparently.. however, little did she know it was only earlier that day I had a NICU midwife insist he was fine and I was giving him enough milk.
I lost all my support though, I was alone and a midwife was insisting he was starving, the nurses listened to her, so I gave in... I told them ok, I will wean...
I called my mum immediately, she is an experienced formula feeder, I asked her to get the bottles and formula for me, I trusted her judgement. Before I was off the phone a nurse had brought me formula and bottles... I'm certain it was there waiting while the nurses coerced me into giving up. They even asked S to convince me to wean but he told them no way...
I had the social worker visit, she told me she understood what I was feeling - she breastfed her first and had to use formula with her second. I felt so alone, nobody actually even bothered to find out why I was upset, they just assumed I look down on bottle feeding and felt like a bad mum, rather than acknowledging that something I worked extremely hard to succeed at was being ripped out from under me and I was so sure it wasn't truly necessary. I just cried and let her tell me her story... I don't think she told me because I needed to hear it but because she needed to tell it.
My mum arrived and I asked her to show me what to do. R refused the bottle, we tried all her tricks but he was far from interested. My mum then said to me 'if he was as hungry a they're making out, he would have taken it'... I didn't try again, but having the stuff there shut the midwife and the nurses up fortunately.
There was a screw up with the transfer so my mum ended up transferring us in he own car, me in a gown and jelco still in. She is an ambulance officer, otherwise it would have taken longer, R and I would have been separated...I couldn't let that happen.
At the new hospital I met the gastro team. I was told I'd get a letter for my follow up appointment when I was discharged, I was excited because I thought finally, I will get into remission. On steroids, I am 'normal'... just not emotionally (I go a bit crazy on them... nasty side effects but so worth it) When I got home, I felt like a whole new person! I had energy! I was home and I continued to breastfeed. I was feeling well....Until I weaned off the steroids...
Bam, back into the sickness, the pain and the constant bowel evacuation, I literally could not eat, I was on a liquid diet and even then was struggling.... I went back to hospital several times, only once staying for a few hours for rehydration. I was sent home with more steroids (I had less than a week off them...) and an antacid type pill that is supposed to help heal the gut as well... told to wait for my follow-up appointment and keep taking my meds... I was in so much pain at this point, I begged for pain relief and was sent home with oxycodone with strict instructions to take after nursing to limit the amount my bub got in my milk.
So that's what I did.. for a bit...
My birthday was a nightmare, I was incredibly sick. I had hoped for months to go out to dinner with my family and see a movie. Something so the day of my birth wasn't insignificant. Instead I was on so much medication that I was considering weaning... even though they were supposed to be fine for short term...I slept in the lounge most days, only so I could still interact with my kids... I slept a lot... cried a lot.. and the rest of the time writhing in pain.... the pain was starting to destroy me. I gave up.
After being brushed off at the hospital for a couple of weeks, and NOT receiving an appointment for my follow-up, I asked what was going on after my parents insisted.. I found out they had only JUST got the referral and were yet to make me an appointment.. I could not wait anymore so I saw my GP and begged him for help. He was disgusted with my treatment (or lack of) to say the least so he referred me to a gastroenterologist in the city. He even called the office to push the appointment sooner, telling me it is likely I will need surgery as I was showing signs of partial obstructions. I did not want surgery but at that point, it was the light I needed. I had a little hope again.
I had the consult with my new GI and fell in love with him, I hadn't met such a caring doctor in a while (besides my GP). He took me on straight away and went into so much more detail about Crohn's, treatment and so on. I needed a colonoscopy and endoscopy to see what was going on (something that didn't actually happen in the hospital). I finally understood....AND he told me I had not reached the end of the line when I came to medication... which is what I was told at the second hospital.. they told me they won't even try infliximab because it won't work, my disease was only in my small bowel, infliximab won't work unless it's in the colon...
I cried, I was so relieved.. somebody was going to help me! I had a wedding coming up and focused on that to get me through until I had the colonoscopy/endoscopy...
I had a wedding on the 6th of Oct, I was a bridesmaid for my best friend. I was very sick, at this point I had lost 15 kilos and was still dropping 2 kg a week, but did my best to hide it.
On the way home, I started to feel even more ill. I put it down to the wine which I promptly threw up when I got home... the vomiting didn't stop, so I knew it was not the wine... I threw up blood... I knew something was wrong.. S freaked out and nearly took me to hospital then and there. I said no, give me another day, I am too tired...
On the 8th I was taken back. S called the hospital where my doctor works at (which is neither of the hospitals I had been in before) and they told me to go in immediately...I freaked out because the last time it was traumatising....
I had lost an incredible amount of weight at this point, I'm surprised I actually was able to breastfeed still! I was not making enough.. so I made the decision to give him formula if I was admitted.. I wasn't going to fight to have him with me... I had given up, I needed to rest...
In ER, again, I was taken in extremely fast... less than 5 minutes, and this was an extremely busy day (the nurses told me they usually get around 30, that day they had 50)... I was blown away how quickly I was seen...but I was dead on my feet and probably looked like I was going to drop.. I felt like it...
The doctor tried to take blood but I was so dehydrated he couldn't... I couldn't understand how I kept getting so dehydrated when my flare was apparently in just my small bowel - the terminal ileum. I had 2L put through before he could take blood, the pain relief I had been taking was no longer working (a month on it reduced the effectiveness.. it's a scary drug, all to easy to get addicted... I hated being on it) so they doubled the dose. I took 2 tablets....I was really out of it from here on, but I still remember.
One of the GI doctors from the first hospital happened to be there, one of my favourites, and he asked how things were. He asked about my son, if I was still breastfeeding and if I was going to want him with me... I said no, we were going to keep him at home and give formula... I knew if I had him with me I would not recover, because I would be too focused on him and not myself.. and it would make any treatment I needed tricky... I had little doubt I could relactate once I was well again.
I was moved to another ward - where you stay short term, if you need longer treatment you move to another ward. I slept, and went through all the same things again.
The next morning a nurse surprised me by telling me I had a colonoscopy at 10am, they couldn't find an anaesthetist so I'd have to be awake but sedated. I spent that morning crying in the shower and hiding behind my curtains around my bed. Hoping I could just close my eyes and drift away into nothingness....My nurse asked if I was ok and I told her I was absolutely terrified, I was still traumatised from the last one... The only other colonoscopy I had was for diagnosis, I also had an endoscopy, and I was awake then too.. I had a panic attack. I felt like I was choking on the scope during the endoscopy and the colonoscopy was painful and humiliating. They sedated me 3 times before I relaxed....
It's one of the more traumatic events in my life and I find it difficult to talk/write about..... I still have PTSD from it ... one day I might be able to break free and speak openly without reliving it but not today....
10am came, the orderlies came and took me. As they wheeled me in the room the doctor introduced the anaesthetist, telling me they found one and that I didn't have to deal with it awake. I cried tears of relief... I watched the drug go into my jelco, within seconds I was asleep. I woke up in recovery, where I don't remember anything significant. I may have been told what they found but I don't remember.
My GI flew from a conference interstate and we had a talk about my treatment plan. I remember crying when he told me my disease had spread to my large bowel, the inflammation in my small bowel was severe, in my colon it was moderate. We knew why it was so difficult for me to stay hydrated and why the pain I was experiencing was extreme. My guts were literally bleeding, ulcerated and being ripped to shreds. The inflammation was so bad in my Ileum that whatever I did eat was getting obstructed and had to push through. That was why even on oxycodone I was nearly passing out from the pain...
I didn't feel like an inconvenience at this point, I really was sick and it wasn't just me thinking it.
They were really quick to act, they started the paperwork necessary for me to have Medicare (Australia's free healthcare) cover the Infliximab. I was a special circumstance so I was approved for treatment straight away.
I had a bad day when my mum visited, I was frustrated with my hair - half combed out dreads at the time. I couldn't manage it, I couldn't finish combing them out so I ended up with a massive mess. My mum decided to pay for a haircut, afraid I'd regret cutting my hair off but knowing it was needed. She thought I was going to cry, and for a moment I almost did but I was a bit out of it and I don't think I truly realised what had happened until I got home and had a shower in my own home... I didn't feel like me, but I felt freed of the trauma... I've since fallen in love with short hair, in fact, I went even shorter 2 weeks ago :)
I was discharged a few days later, appointments already made for follow up and the infusions which I will need every 8 weeks for the rest of my life.
December came, I met with my GI and we had some great news. My inflammation markers went from 52 to undetectable, an absolute first. I finally could say I was in remission!!! It took 7 years, 4 of which were bad, the last 6 months had been a nightmare, to FINALLY find something that worked.
While now I may be fine most days, some aren't too great. I'm never going to be free of this disease, or truly free of the symptoms. If anything it has taught me patience, it has taught me to never loose hope even if the whole universe is black, mostly, it taught me just how precious life is.
Firstly, R has fitted in well with our family, I honestly believe it is easier going from 2 to 3 children than it is 1 to 2. It is like he has always been here.
R stared crawling at 5 months, standing at 8 months and is started walking at 10 months. 'Mama' was his first word and now he says 'mama baba' when he wants to nurse :)
But it has not been easy for me. I was aware I was high risk for developing PPD and I did not escape this time. Not for reasons related to parenting though. I have Crohn's disease and since May I was flaring severely and had 2 hospital admissions.
R was about 6 weeks old when I noticed my health declining, I (as is common with incurable diseases, especially in the first years) thought I was bigger than it and could cure it with diet... yeah, cure an autoimmune disease with food... it didn't happen obviously.
I looked into the GAPS diet, it seemed fantastic! The reviews are great, so I went out one week and spent over $250 on food from the list.
I thought eating healthy would help so I put off seeing my doctor. Since moving back to South Australia I was without my GI and really had nobody to go to. My old GI started working somewhere else so I put it off... Hoping, praying to the universe that my gut would heal.
By May, I was very sick. My fiancé had enough of seeing me suffer and was worried about me so he took me to the hospital where I found out I was really, really sick...
My Crohn's was diagnosed in 2009, after 2 years of mild flaring. I had my daughter and then flared up badly, my liver was affected and I developed severe inflammation in my gallbladder and gallstones. I had surgery at 5 weeks PP and honestly don't remember much more. I started getting sicker, and sicker, scared out of my mind I had cancer because I was bleeding... So I went to the doctor.
I was put on 6MP - an immune suppressant drug that supresses bone marrow production. I never got to the point where I was ok, my inflammation markers only got as low as 8. But it was apparently ok with my doctor.. after all, he wasn't the one suffering....
I had my second, a son, I was monitored my entire pregnancy, every few weeks we would check all my bloods. I was fine, pregnancy is good to me...
After I had my son, I was better off than I was after my first. Crohn's tends to flare up about 6 weeks after birth because the immune system is no longer supressed for the pregnancy. I continued my care until 10 months PP when we made the decision to move interstate.
I was at the point in my life where I got used to a bit of pain, and the other symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhoea. I didn't eat takeaway food which helped... fatty foods are a trigger. We decided, while I was healthier than I had been in years, to have another baby. Baby R.
I was almost perfect during my pregnancy, I avoided my triggers and things were going well. I gave birth to a healthy 8lb boy after a easy but emotionally 'difficult' unassisted birth (I will elaborate on this next entry, I do not regret freebirthing and would do it again without a second thought)
We moved when R was 5 weeks, back to SA. I was depressed, we lost our home in the flood due to the cyclone and I was beginning to flare. Life was only just beginning to test me.
So, to where I was in the beginning. I tried to 'cure' (not possible) my disease but I just kept getting worse. The pain was severe, I cried all day every day and considered suicide often. I was trapped in a body that was failing me. I could feel myself getting weaker. Weeks went by where I refused to see a doctor, I was extremely uneducated about Crohn's, my doctor never gave me any advice besides - Google.... yeah, thanks Doc...
I started getting dizzy spells, I couldn't eat or drink.. I was like a zombie.. just existing and breastfeeding... I went from 65kg to 55 without trying. I started vomiting and pooping blood.
My partner took me to hospital, he called ahead and told them what he was observing and the nurse said to come in immediately... and to call an ambulance if I was to drop... so I got scared...
We went in, less than 15 minutes in an extremely busy hospital I was in my own cubicle and they were taking blood, putting in IV's and doing all sorts of scans. And it all went crazy from there.
I mentioned being able to have R with me this stay, but it was not without a fight. I had administrators coming to me asking if there was any way R could go home, if we could consider feeding him expressed milk, if my OH could take him to me from 8am to 8pm so he could nurse... but he was only 5 months and had a cold which became bronchiolitis. He needed me. They tried transferring me to another hospital but none had any beds. The women's hospital would not take me because I was only breastfeeding... not pregnant..
They moved me from the main ER to another area in ER where I had privacy, the admin came back and we had the agreement that I would have R with me but I would be required to have a midwife with me all times at night and R would sleep in a port-a-cot. I could still breastfeed my baby so of course this was a great compromise.
Then, my treatment began... I was severely dehydrated and dangerously low on electrolytes. My potassium was extremely low, I could have had a heart attack if I left it any longer, it was a surprise it hadn't happened already... they told me that was why I was feeling so weak and my heart was feeling like it was pounding all the time. I had 8L of fluids go through me in 24 hours, IV steroids and heparin shots. BUT that's rather dismissive of what I went through.. I need to process it.. so here it is..
First IV, failed, second... failed.. 3 failed.... I had 18 failed attempts before I was hydrated enough for the line to stay in. I even had a surgeon tissue it (go through the vein into the tissue)... I was tired, in pain and I hate needles so this was traumatising... at 2 am after yet another failed, I was distressed. Even the midwife took R out (with permission) for a moment because I was that upset. She said she would give me time to calm down... she was lovely. I regret not remembering her name so I can thank her.
After the surgeon's IV failed, another doctor came in and attempted it. I had an hour with out being jabbed so I was in a better emotional place. I had a chance to sleep/ meditate. FINALLY the IV went in and stayed in... for a while.
 |
| Something like the 15th attempt |
 |
| which failed... |
R was my light in the darkness, had I been alone, I would have been far worse....
The next few days were a blur of poking, needles, Obs and lots of tears. I was not allowed to eat for the first day or so, not that I cared. I had no idea what my treatment would be, or how things actually were. I was told they would just monitor me. I felt like giving up.
I graduated to free-fluids and then as the steroids started to do their magic, I progressed onto low residue and had Ensure help me gain weight and to fill in the nutritional gaps... R slept in bed with me and nursed whenever. His cold became bronchiolitis so I had to transfer or send him home... I couldn't deny him the breast so I chose to transfer, luckily this time there was a bed.
On my last day before transferring to a different hospital things turned sour.
I had a midwife turn against me, probably because I snapped at her for waking R at 9:30 at night. We didn't click, unlike the others. She went behind my back and started telling everyone I needed to give my bub formula, he was STARVING apparently.. however, little did she know it was only earlier that day I had a NICU midwife insist he was fine and I was giving him enough milk.
I lost all my support though, I was alone and a midwife was insisting he was starving, the nurses listened to her, so I gave in... I told them ok, I will wean...
I called my mum immediately, she is an experienced formula feeder, I asked her to get the bottles and formula for me, I trusted her judgement. Before I was off the phone a nurse had brought me formula and bottles... I'm certain it was there waiting while the nurses coerced me into giving up. They even asked S to convince me to wean but he told them no way...
I had the social worker visit, she told me she understood what I was feeling - she breastfed her first and had to use formula with her second. I felt so alone, nobody actually even bothered to find out why I was upset, they just assumed I look down on bottle feeding and felt like a bad mum, rather than acknowledging that something I worked extremely hard to succeed at was being ripped out from under me and I was so sure it wasn't truly necessary. I just cried and let her tell me her story... I don't think she told me because I needed to hear it but because she needed to tell it.
My mum arrived and I asked her to show me what to do. R refused the bottle, we tried all her tricks but he was far from interested. My mum then said to me 'if he was as hungry a they're making out, he would have taken it'... I didn't try again, but having the stuff there shut the midwife and the nurses up fortunately.
There was a screw up with the transfer so my mum ended up transferring us in he own car, me in a gown and jelco still in. She is an ambulance officer, otherwise it would have taken longer, R and I would have been separated...I couldn't let that happen.
At the new hospital I met the gastro team. I was told I'd get a letter for my follow up appointment when I was discharged, I was excited because I thought finally, I will get into remission. On steroids, I am 'normal'... just not emotionally (I go a bit crazy on them... nasty side effects but so worth it) When I got home, I felt like a whole new person! I had energy! I was home and I continued to breastfeed. I was feeling well....Until I weaned off the steroids...
Bam, back into the sickness, the pain and the constant bowel evacuation, I literally could not eat, I was on a liquid diet and even then was struggling.... I went back to hospital several times, only once staying for a few hours for rehydration. I was sent home with more steroids (I had less than a week off them...) and an antacid type pill that is supposed to help heal the gut as well... told to wait for my follow-up appointment and keep taking my meds... I was in so much pain at this point, I begged for pain relief and was sent home with oxycodone with strict instructions to take after nursing to limit the amount my bub got in my milk.
So that's what I did.. for a bit...
My birthday was a nightmare, I was incredibly sick. I had hoped for months to go out to dinner with my family and see a movie. Something so the day of my birth wasn't insignificant. Instead I was on so much medication that I was considering weaning... even though they were supposed to be fine for short term...I slept in the lounge most days, only so I could still interact with my kids... I slept a lot... cried a lot.. and the rest of the time writhing in pain.... the pain was starting to destroy me. I gave up.
After being brushed off at the hospital for a couple of weeks, and NOT receiving an appointment for my follow-up, I asked what was going on after my parents insisted.. I found out they had only JUST got the referral and were yet to make me an appointment.. I could not wait anymore so I saw my GP and begged him for help. He was disgusted with my treatment (or lack of) to say the least so he referred me to a gastroenterologist in the city. He even called the office to push the appointment sooner, telling me it is likely I will need surgery as I was showing signs of partial obstructions. I did not want surgery but at that point, it was the light I needed. I had a little hope again.
I had the consult with my new GI and fell in love with him, I hadn't met such a caring doctor in a while (besides my GP). He took me on straight away and went into so much more detail about Crohn's, treatment and so on. I needed a colonoscopy and endoscopy to see what was going on (something that didn't actually happen in the hospital). I finally understood....AND he told me I had not reached the end of the line when I came to medication... which is what I was told at the second hospital.. they told me they won't even try infliximab because it won't work, my disease was only in my small bowel, infliximab won't work unless it's in the colon...
I cried, I was so relieved.. somebody was going to help me! I had a wedding coming up and focused on that to get me through until I had the colonoscopy/endoscopy...
 |
| Bride's maid! :) |
I had a wedding on the 6th of Oct, I was a bridesmaid for my best friend. I was very sick, at this point I had lost 15 kilos and was still dropping 2 kg a week, but did my best to hide it.
On the way home, I started to feel even more ill. I put it down to the wine which I promptly threw up when I got home... the vomiting didn't stop, so I knew it was not the wine... I threw up blood... I knew something was wrong.. S freaked out and nearly took me to hospital then and there. I said no, give me another day, I am too tired...
On the 8th I was taken back. S called the hospital where my doctor works at (which is neither of the hospitals I had been in before) and they told me to go in immediately...I freaked out because the last time it was traumatising....
I had lost an incredible amount of weight at this point, I'm surprised I actually was able to breastfeed still! I was not making enough.. so I made the decision to give him formula if I was admitted.. I wasn't going to fight to have him with me... I had given up, I needed to rest...
In ER, again, I was taken in extremely fast... less than 5 minutes, and this was an extremely busy day (the nurses told me they usually get around 30, that day they had 50)... I was blown away how quickly I was seen...but I was dead on my feet and probably looked like I was going to drop.. I felt like it...
The doctor tried to take blood but I was so dehydrated he couldn't... I couldn't understand how I kept getting so dehydrated when my flare was apparently in just my small bowel - the terminal ileum. I had 2L put through before he could take blood, the pain relief I had been taking was no longer working (a month on it reduced the effectiveness.. it's a scary drug, all to easy to get addicted... I hated being on it) so they doubled the dose. I took 2 tablets....I was really out of it from here on, but I still remember.
One of the GI doctors from the first hospital happened to be there, one of my favourites, and he asked how things were. He asked about my son, if I was still breastfeeding and if I was going to want him with me... I said no, we were going to keep him at home and give formula... I knew if I had him with me I would not recover, because I would be too focused on him and not myself.. and it would make any treatment I needed tricky... I had little doubt I could relactate once I was well again.
I was moved to another ward - where you stay short term, if you need longer treatment you move to another ward. I slept, and went through all the same things again.
The next morning a nurse surprised me by telling me I had a colonoscopy at 10am, they couldn't find an anaesthetist so I'd have to be awake but sedated. I spent that morning crying in the shower and hiding behind my curtains around my bed. Hoping I could just close my eyes and drift away into nothingness....My nurse asked if I was ok and I told her I was absolutely terrified, I was still traumatised from the last one... The only other colonoscopy I had was for diagnosis, I also had an endoscopy, and I was awake then too.. I had a panic attack. I felt like I was choking on the scope during the endoscopy and the colonoscopy was painful and humiliating. They sedated me 3 times before I relaxed....
It's one of the more traumatic events in my life and I find it difficult to talk/write about..... I still have PTSD from it ... one day I might be able to break free and speak openly without reliving it but not today....
10am came, the orderlies came and took me. As they wheeled me in the room the doctor introduced the anaesthetist, telling me they found one and that I didn't have to deal with it awake. I cried tears of relief... I watched the drug go into my jelco, within seconds I was asleep. I woke up in recovery, where I don't remember anything significant. I may have been told what they found but I don't remember.
My GI flew from a conference interstate and we had a talk about my treatment plan. I remember crying when he told me my disease had spread to my large bowel, the inflammation in my small bowel was severe, in my colon it was moderate. We knew why it was so difficult for me to stay hydrated and why the pain I was experiencing was extreme. My guts were literally bleeding, ulcerated and being ripped to shreds. The inflammation was so bad in my Ileum that whatever I did eat was getting obstructed and had to push through. That was why even on oxycodone I was nearly passing out from the pain...
I didn't feel like an inconvenience at this point, I really was sick and it wasn't just me thinking it.
They were really quick to act, they started the paperwork necessary for me to have Medicare (Australia's free healthcare) cover the Infliximab. I was a special circumstance so I was approved for treatment straight away.
I had a bad day when my mum visited, I was frustrated with my hair - half combed out dreads at the time. I couldn't manage it, I couldn't finish combing them out so I ended up with a massive mess. My mum decided to pay for a haircut, afraid I'd regret cutting my hair off but knowing it was needed. She thought I was going to cry, and for a moment I almost did but I was a bit out of it and I don't think I truly realised what had happened until I got home and had a shower in my own home... I didn't feel like me, but I felt freed of the trauma... I've since fallen in love with short hair, in fact, I went even shorter 2 weeks ago :)
I was discharged a few days later, appointments already made for follow up and the infusions which I will need every 8 weeks for the rest of my life.
December came, I met with my GI and we had some great news. My inflammation markers went from 52 to undetectable, an absolute first. I finally could say I was in remission!!! It took 7 years, 4 of which were bad, the last 6 months had been a nightmare, to FINALLY find something that worked.
While now I may be fine most days, some aren't too great. I'm never going to be free of this disease, or truly free of the symptoms. If anything it has taught me patience, it has taught me to never loose hope even if the whole universe is black, mostly, it taught me just how precious life is.
Saturday, 20 April 2013
Baby R's freebirth
Baby R was born at 6:21am on Valentines Day (14th Feb) at home, at 40 weeks and 3 days gestation.
My 'due' date, came and went. I was thrilled though, I found it to be the most awesome thing to be able to say, 'Oh my due date was yesterday' haha the shock on people's faces amused me ceaselessly. My mother in law flew up on my due date, I paced around the airport while we waited smiling to myself because nobody else knew I was 40 weeks that day. From the day I worked out my due date, I kept saying how awesome it would be if I had him on Valentines Day, just 3 days after my due date. I didn't think it would actually happen since my previous pregnancies were 37+5 and 39+0, I kept hoping, just as I kept hoping I would get to 40 weeks.
I was feeling huge by 40+1, I had a sudden appearance of stretchmarks on my belly the week before which reminded me of whiskers, my belly button was in the middle like a nose of a kitty :P I felt womanly, beautiful and a bit nervous. R had been posterior the entire time I had been able to palpate his position. This did make me nervous, apparently posterior labours are longer - particularly pushing, more uncomfortable and tearing is much more likely, but I tried not to look too much into it.
I did tear with J's birth, significantly enough that a few millimetres saved me from a 3rd degree tear. Although recovery was pretty easy, my midwife was able to repair the tear so well that it didn't feel like anything had happened after a few weeks but I still didn't want to tear again, at least not as severely. I thought back on J's and D's births a lot, about what I would change, what I thought worked and what I thought would work again. I did know better than to make a plan in my head about how exactly things would go, but I am glad I prepared myself for another quick labour.
On the 12th, I got the shakes randomly. I had something to eat and drink and it didn't stop so I checked my blood pressure but it was fine, getting curious as to whether it was a possible sign of impending labour I googled it, sure enough some things said 12-48 hours after some mums got the shakes, they went into labour. I figured it could be hormonal and went on with my day as usual, hoping I'd be having my baby soon.
On the 13th, we went out shopping - S, J, D, mum-in-law and myself. I walked around and we bought a couple more outfits for R to wear, I had worried since it was still warm in QLD that some of the clothes we had aside for him would be too warm to wear (we kept a lot of J's baby clothes, but he was born in SA when and where it is much colder). I was getting braxton hicks fairly often, I would wiggle my hips and belly dance in the hopes I would get R to turn - he was still posterior. When we got home I had a nap, I hardly slept the night before and I was feeling a bit antsy.
On the 14th, around 2 am J woke up, still breastfed (mainly to go to sleep because by that time I had only colostrum) so I nursed him back to sleep, and as usual I started getting some braxton hicks contractions. I had been getting strong braxton hicks contractions since mid-38 weeks most often when nursing so I thought nothing of it. They were sporadic, no pattern and they didn't hurt at all. For me, my belly would grow tight and I'd feel a little breathless and then it would pass. Once J was asleep, he stayed in my bed with me, between S and I. After a while S got up and went to J's bed to get comfortable, as he had done so often the last couple of weeks (I took up enough room as it was let alone adding a toddler).
I don't remember still having braxton hicks at this point, I may have, I may not have. I tried to go back to sleep, using all the pillows on the bed to make myself a nest to get comfortable. I vaguely remember starting to notice the tightenings a while later. I was really uncomfortable and when the contractions didn't stop like they usually did I started to feel a little annoyed. I kept trying to sleep though.The contractions were still painless, but my pubic bone would start to ache, I checked the time, it was 2:22am.
I was still trying to see if I could sleep but ended up getting a drink and going to the loo in the hopes that they would stop. Still convinced I was just having BHC. Back in bed, lying on my side they started to feel stronger, the ache was more noticeable and impossible to stay still through. I gave up on sleeping, grateful I had a nap earlier and had a shower because usually a warm shower makes me sleepy and relaxed. The contractions slowed while I let the warm water run over my belly so I got out and attempted to sleep again, after just a couple of contractions I gave up, I started to feel almost a sting at the peak of the contraction.I went to the loo again, and had a thought to start timing these contractions. They weren't completely painless now, I thought something was happening but it was nothing like either of my previous labours. I decided to download an app, I figured if it was It, then I'd be able to time my contractions, if not; I'd just feel a little silly getting my hopes up and get on with my day as usual.
I timed a few, had a shower and had a few more before I jumped out and timed another one or 2. They were only 30 seconds long but 1 and a half minutes apart, they didn't seem long enough to be real labour but I did notice they were actually painful now, especially out of the water. I got back in the shower and the intensity started to peak, feeling a little alone and wanting S I got out and woke him up, saying "I'm getting pains and I can't sleep through them". I kneeled on the bed next to him and said he might want to get up soon, I hesitated telling him I felt lonely but did so anyway. S, knowing me better than myself sometimes, realised I was in labour, he watched me have a contraction and immediately got up. It was 4am.
Up until this point I remained unconvinced it was real labour, I thought false labour at the least because it felt so different. I breathed through every contraction, not making a sound and not feeling the need to.
I got back in the shower, and talked to S and breathed through contractions, they were getting painful now. It demanded all my focus, and I instinctively got on all fours and let the water fall over my back. I checked my cervix a few times since I first jumped in the shower that morning, I had been unable to feel it until now where I guessed I was at least 5 with a bulging bag of waters. The more labour progressed, I could feel my cervix melting away, it's quite cool :) It was only when I could feel the bag of water that I was convinced it was labour.
I had some towels at the edge of the shower and in between contractions I started to feel sleepy so I literally napped. I rested my head on the towels, still on my hands and knees and closed my eyes. Oxytocin had kicked in for sure.
I started making small sounds, in the back of my mind I coached myself 'low sounds, low sounds' the higher pitched the sounds are the more painful it is, low sounds (like the 'om' when people meditate) help you relax so it actually hurts less... I kept my mouth open, because open mouth = open cervix...well something like that, I highly recommend Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Childbirth. J and D woke so S brought them into the bathroom where we chilled out and chatted inbetween contractions, they were the same length and had the same break between them but the intensity picked up. It wasn't long before I got loud.
J didn't like it when I had a contraction, these ones were really hurting and he got scared. In between the contractions I cuddled him and gave him a kiss to reassure him I'm fine, I kept telling them I was having the baby, and D thought it was the coolest thing ever. She kept excitedly dancing around :)
I knew I would not be able to have J and D with me much longer, labour was picking up so S called his mum.
My mother in law took 5 minutes to get to us (she was staying with a friend), later she told us she had just woken and just 'knew' something was up and then she got the call. This was a little after 5 I think.
I think I had just a couple contractions, these were not as strong, I was thinking about the kids and needed to be alone so labour stalled a little. As soon as my MIL got there and the kids were out of the room and entertained labour intensified.
I kept holding S's hands during contractions, I really needed his touch. As soon as a contraction built up, I grabbed for his hands and held tight and 'ommmm'ed' my way through the contraction.
I stopped thinking, I don't remember what was going through my head, I was in another world now.
I find it funy that each labour I have a word I say during contractions. With my first 2, I swore, sh*t for D and f*ck for J, with R, I just said 'ow' and 'ah'. I won't lie, this fricking hurt! I surrendered, I let each contraction consume me, I would focus on keeping my mouth relaxed as I 'oooowwwwwwww'ed' and 'aaaahhhhh'ed'. I kept expecting back pain, he was still posterior and I only ever hear of the dreaded back labour that happens often with a posterior baby. I didn't have any, all the pains were focused where my pubic bone is, it felt like a lot of pressure with a sting. With J and D's labours, it was a burning sting that spread between my hip bones, I never felt pressure until I pushed.
I got a little pushy really soon after my mother in law got there, I checked myself and I was nearly complete but R's head was still high up. The next contraction was definitely a pushy contraction, I couldn't fight it so I didn't. I was on my hands and knees still, rocking my hips side to side and pushing with the urge.
I felt like I was pushing forever, I pushed a few times and checked myself (something that I really didn't think about, I just did it) and during each push I could feel his head moulding and moving ever so slightly down, bag of waters still intact. I was secretly hoping I would give birth to him in the caul (still in his bag of waters) because it's considered good luck.
S was messing around with the camera a few times since I started feeling pushy, I never really noticed but when I was pushing hard the camera batteries went flat. I still needed to hold onto him so he had to be really quick and rushed back the moment a contraction started. He did get the new batteries in and came back to me. Then it went flat again so we left it for a little bit.
I was getting tired, after about 15-20 minutes of full-on pushes, 3 pushes per contraction and contractions a minute apart lasting what felt like forever. Each push, I would feel him move a tiny bit. I started to feel stuck. I stood up a few times and felt like I couldn't go on. I felt like R just wasn't moving down, like he was stuck. I was getting frustrated. I complained to S, and tried to walk away. I said I give up, I am not doing this anymore, I can't do this anymore. He told me I could do it, I was doing it and that soon I would have a little baby to cuddle, to breastfeed and to love, he reminded me that I had been waiting for this and it would be so worth it. I knew he was right, he gave me some excitement back.
I walked out of the shower and paced around, then a contraction started and I quickly got back into the shower, this time I was standing while pushing, and it felt better but I fell to my knees again after it was over.
The contractions were intense now, I would shake and a couple of times cried a little. I felt like I was sitting in the water at the beach being hit by waves. I tried to go with them, still trying to relax as much as possible. This labour was less painful than J's, purely because didn't feel my hips seperating.
I felt like I should stand while I pushed, when I regained focus I realised I felt I needed to be off all fours which the reason he was hardly moving (if at all, it was likely all I was feeling was his head moulding). It was a little awkward trying to figure out what worked, I held onto S for physical support this time and after only a few contractions my water broke.
I checked myself again and felt his head, no longer with the bag of water in the way, and I could feel the little line on his head where the plates were squished together. I was ecstatic, I was touching my baby and I was the first to touch him. I laughed and cried much like I did when he was actually born. This was the most awesome moment I had ever experienced in labour, and this gave me strength.
I was now pushing with S holding me up, a supported squat I believe it is called. I think a birthing chair would have been ideal but this worked great. Every push did something, I could feel R moving down. In between contractions, I was resting and leaning against the wall when I felt R's little foot poke out the front/left. I am 99% sure he was ROP, slowly turning to come out. Feeling his foot made me giggle, and slightly sad that I'd probably never feel it again.
I pushed a little while longer, this time I felt like things were actually moving and it wasn't long at all before I dropped to my knees and instead of being really loud while I pushed, I grunted a little. R had dropped into the birth canal and was almost crowning. I was at the point where I knew the birth would be very, very soon. I was at peace and hardly focused on anything around me, I could do it on my own. I don't even remember what S was doing. Watching the video later, I can see I was entirely focused on pushing just as I needed to, unlike J's birth where I just gave it my all regardless if I needed to (ending up in that tear...) S did remind me to go slow, as I had asked him to in case I pushed too hard. I didn't need him to though, I told him I'm just doing what my body tells me to.
R began to crown, I felt the warm stretching feeling as he did, not what I would call 'the ring of fire' which I had with the other two. I cupped my hand over his head, this was a very slow, very controlled stage, I was scared out of my mind that I would tear, if I took my hand away for just a second to readjust my position or wipe water out of my face I would immediately cup my hand over his head again. I kept waiting to feel myself tear but never did.
I kneeled now, and all of a sudden I gave a push and he came out really fast. I don't remember what way he was facing but his body was facing up, he had a nuchal cord so I just pulled it over his head and then turned him to the side where he coughed out fluid and gave a loud cry. With the way the cord was around his neck it confirmed a dream I had the day before. I had dreamed that he would come out with a nuchal cord and because the placenta was anterior and to the left, he was nice and comfy ROP, only turning as he came out.
I checked his cord, it was a beautiful blue colour, pumping his blood back to him. He was covered in a bit of vernix and he was so chubby! I looked at him all over, from his crumpled little ears to his little heels. He was entirely perfect and was beautiful and pink.
I cried, I said hello, I vaguely remember seeing the kids at the door so I showed them and said I 'look, it's your baby brother' I just kneeled there and enjoyed the peace, feeling estatic. I was in no rush to do anything, it was perfect.
S took a couple of pictures on my mobile, just as I had leaned back to get comfortable. We saw a small gush of blood, we watched it and I checked the cord which was still thick and full of blood, I didn't worry myself yet, I remembered the same thing happening after J.
I got S to get a blanket, just in case R got cold and snuggled him close, skin to skin. S went to get the couch ready for me because I wasn't comfortable and wanted to sit, this was about 7am now. I got up and took a picture of R in my arms. I adore this photo.
I had no urge to push the placenta out yet, I wasn't getting contractions so I just waited, paid close attention to how I was feeling. I felt weak but not dizzy, I was hardly losing any blood so I walked to the couch and with help, sat down.
I called my mum and told her he was born, announcing his name - we had kept it to ourselves and wanted to announce it when he was born. I told her that he was born at 6:21am. My mum was thrilled but had no idea we had had a planned unassisted birth, we felt it was best not to tell them because they are ambulance officers and I felt it would cause them unnecessary stress knowing. She asked about his weight and because we hadn't weighed or measured him I told her we were at home and hadn't done it, she asked about my midwife and I said we didn't have one. She just assumed it went fast just like J's birth and encouraged me to head to the hospital soon. I think she was a bit surprised how relaxed I was, especially considering I still hadn't birthed the placenta haha
For me, it felt like the most normal thing in the world, it felt weird to be considering a trip to the hospital. I saw a doctor once during my pregnancy, my GP, only to get a referral for an ultrasound, the rest I took care of. I was not having blood tests or the screening they generally do at antenatal visits. Anything I was going to consent to, I could do myself. So I did, I liked having complete responsibility over my body and my baby, I never once worried or stressed about being told to do something due to someone else's fears. If I ever have another baby, I would do it my way again.
I did say to my mum that we were extremely prepared in the event of an 'accidental' unassisted birth but I think she still worried. I regret calling her so soon, because the trip to hospital weighed heavily on my mind and I really didn't want to think about it just yet.
I was uncomfortable after a little while, I had a cup of tea, took some arnica and snuggled with R, enjoying every moment but I wanted to stand, I was sure the placenta would be coming soon, I started to get some pains.
I got to the bathroom and tried to see if the placenta was ready, I pushed a little but nothing happened so I kneeled/sat on the floor. I swear it was only a couple of minutes before I had the urge to push again so I called S over and demanded he bring the bowl. He wasn't quick enough, so he had to pick the placenta up off the floor, going 'eeww' lol I admit, it was a bit ikky.
I passed R to S and for the first time I had my arms free and empty belly. I wanted a shower and I wanted to watch the bleeding. I stood up and watched the blood come out, it was a bit scary, I'd never experienced a physiological 3rd stage on my own, let alone truly experienced it. I had my midwife help me with J, with D I did nothing as it was heavily managed. I waited, I watched the blood fall and paid close attention to how I felt, chatting to S as well. I was never left alone, when the bleeding slowed dramatically which convinced me I was NOT about to haemmorage. I had my shepherd's purse tea waiting, kettle boiled, ready to be made if needed. I felt pretty good so I went to have my shower. It felt strange because not long before, I was giving birth in that shower.
I was all cleaned up and went to lie in bed with R, who was still attatched to the cord, we wanted to delay cord clamping as long as possible. I snuggled with him and tried to nurse him, he wasn't overly interested but nursed for a little while.
I really enjoyed this time, it was the first time things were relaxed and I never got to really enjoy this time with the others. All I ever wanted was to relax with my baby, in MY bed and take our time with unecessary things like cutting the cord. My dad called, I told him the good news, he asked me about the placenta, bleeding, how R was and such (mum had told him what I said earlier) he seemed more relaxed about it than mum, maybe because I sounded fine and could easily answer his questions.
A while later, nearly 3 hours since the birth we tied a cord I had made (it was soaked in boiling water) around his cord and S cut it. A little bit of blood fell, making me wish we had waited but the placenta and cord were very cold also the cord was white and limp.
I dressed R, we started to get ready to go to the hospital, wanting it to be over and done with. I checked the placenta and it was all there, so I just bagged it and chucked it in the freezer. I plan to encapsulate it (to this day, 8 weeks later I still haven't done it because we had no oven until a few days ago...I'll be doing it next week once I get the capsules lol)
When we got to the hospital, we just walked through the doors and they all perked up at their desks. I said 'I just had a baby, can someone check us over?' They didn't know what to think lol A midwife came over to me and noticed how new R was, she had thought I just got out of Base Hospital (where the babies are born) until I said, no, I had him just a few hours ago. The surprise on her face was hilarious.
I'll spare the details, it was a tedious 4 hours but everyone was surprised how calm I was, surprised that we didn't rush in straight away, that I didn't call the ambulance and even more so, that we cut the cord and I had already showered :P
I didn't tear enough to need stitches (I never felt any tear afterwards either so it must have been really small), R was fine (but I knew that) he was measured and weighed and there was a lot of paperwork.... oh so much paperwork. Initially they wanted R and I to stay 48 hours but I refused, I knew there was no reason to and was desperate to go back home. I said I would only stay 4, and it was not up for discussion. They gave me some food and R chilled out/slept on the neonatal bed (never seen one before lol I don't know what it is called but it had an inbuilt heart monitor and O2) next to me, they put the heater on so he wouldn't get cold while I ate and rested a bit. I swear most of the staff that came in 'just to grab one thing' used that as an excuse to come see R, one nurse told me we were 'the talk of the hospital' lol babies weren't born there, they really only saw the emergencies, the nurse told me it was nice to see the other side of things.
S had to get the placenta because they didn't believe me when I said I had checked it and it was intact.
When R was weighed, I couldn't believe them, 3650g which is 8lbs! He was 50cm long, which is longer than D and J who were only 48cm. R was my biggest baby yet :)
The male midwife (whom was really cool, he showed genuine interest when we talked about placenta encapsulation) asked us about the way he was born, curious about his position because he had a funny shaped head - he said it looked like he was posterior (the moulding was on the top, slightly to the right, the back of his head was rounded), I couldn't remember and felt like it didn't really matter so I said he came out normally and left it at that.
We went back home, and had our first night as a family of 5. I did have a nap and S took the kids out to get us some tea, he didn't feel like cooking, but I didn't sleep much, I was too in awe of R :P
I will never regret having an unassisted pregnancy and birth. I felt more in tune with my body and being entirely responsible was comforting. I never answered to anyone, I was never pressured into anything. It felt natural. I did miss having appointments with a midwife but it drove me to research more, anything I was uncertain about I looked up. I learnt so much about myself and about birth. I learned to trust birth even more than I had before. Above all else though, I learnt to trust my instincts as a mother. It's incredible how birth can change your life... no matter how many times you do it ;)
Here is his birth story <3
My 'due' date, came and went. I was thrilled though, I found it to be the most awesome thing to be able to say, 'Oh my due date was yesterday' haha the shock on people's faces amused me ceaselessly. My mother in law flew up on my due date, I paced around the airport while we waited smiling to myself because nobody else knew I was 40 weeks that day. From the day I worked out my due date, I kept saying how awesome it would be if I had him on Valentines Day, just 3 days after my due date. I didn't think it would actually happen since my previous pregnancies were 37+5 and 39+0, I kept hoping, just as I kept hoping I would get to 40 weeks.
I was feeling huge by 40+1, I had a sudden appearance of stretchmarks on my belly the week before which reminded me of whiskers, my belly button was in the middle like a nose of a kitty :P I felt womanly, beautiful and a bit nervous. R had been posterior the entire time I had been able to palpate his position. This did make me nervous, apparently posterior labours are longer - particularly pushing, more uncomfortable and tearing is much more likely, but I tried not to look too much into it.
I did tear with J's birth, significantly enough that a few millimetres saved me from a 3rd degree tear. Although recovery was pretty easy, my midwife was able to repair the tear so well that it didn't feel like anything had happened after a few weeks but I still didn't want to tear again, at least not as severely. I thought back on J's and D's births a lot, about what I would change, what I thought worked and what I thought would work again. I did know better than to make a plan in my head about how exactly things would go, but I am glad I prepared myself for another quick labour.
On the 12th, I got the shakes randomly. I had something to eat and drink and it didn't stop so I checked my blood pressure but it was fine, getting curious as to whether it was a possible sign of impending labour I googled it, sure enough some things said 12-48 hours after some mums got the shakes, they went into labour. I figured it could be hormonal and went on with my day as usual, hoping I'd be having my baby soon.
On the 13th, we went out shopping - S, J, D, mum-in-law and myself. I walked around and we bought a couple more outfits for R to wear, I had worried since it was still warm in QLD that some of the clothes we had aside for him would be too warm to wear (we kept a lot of J's baby clothes, but he was born in SA when and where it is much colder). I was getting braxton hicks fairly often, I would wiggle my hips and belly dance in the hopes I would get R to turn - he was still posterior. When we got home I had a nap, I hardly slept the night before and I was feeling a bit antsy.
On the 14th, around 2 am J woke up, still breastfed (mainly to go to sleep because by that time I had only colostrum) so I nursed him back to sleep, and as usual I started getting some braxton hicks contractions. I had been getting strong braxton hicks contractions since mid-38 weeks most often when nursing so I thought nothing of it. They were sporadic, no pattern and they didn't hurt at all. For me, my belly would grow tight and I'd feel a little breathless and then it would pass. Once J was asleep, he stayed in my bed with me, between S and I. After a while S got up and went to J's bed to get comfortable, as he had done so often the last couple of weeks (I took up enough room as it was let alone adding a toddler).
I don't remember still having braxton hicks at this point, I may have, I may not have. I tried to go back to sleep, using all the pillows on the bed to make myself a nest to get comfortable. I vaguely remember starting to notice the tightenings a while later. I was really uncomfortable and when the contractions didn't stop like they usually did I started to feel a little annoyed. I kept trying to sleep though.The contractions were still painless, but my pubic bone would start to ache, I checked the time, it was 2:22am.
I was still trying to see if I could sleep but ended up getting a drink and going to the loo in the hopes that they would stop. Still convinced I was just having BHC. Back in bed, lying on my side they started to feel stronger, the ache was more noticeable and impossible to stay still through. I gave up on sleeping, grateful I had a nap earlier and had a shower because usually a warm shower makes me sleepy and relaxed. The contractions slowed while I let the warm water run over my belly so I got out and attempted to sleep again, after just a couple of contractions I gave up, I started to feel almost a sting at the peak of the contraction.I went to the loo again, and had a thought to start timing these contractions. They weren't completely painless now, I thought something was happening but it was nothing like either of my previous labours. I decided to download an app, I figured if it was It, then I'd be able to time my contractions, if not; I'd just feel a little silly getting my hopes up and get on with my day as usual.
I timed a few, had a shower and had a few more before I jumped out and timed another one or 2. They were only 30 seconds long but 1 and a half minutes apart, they didn't seem long enough to be real labour but I did notice they were actually painful now, especially out of the water. I got back in the shower and the intensity started to peak, feeling a little alone and wanting S I got out and woke him up, saying "I'm getting pains and I can't sleep through them". I kneeled on the bed next to him and said he might want to get up soon, I hesitated telling him I felt lonely but did so anyway. S, knowing me better than myself sometimes, realised I was in labour, he watched me have a contraction and immediately got up. It was 4am.
Up until this point I remained unconvinced it was real labour, I thought false labour at the least because it felt so different. I breathed through every contraction, not making a sound and not feeling the need to.
I got back in the shower, and talked to S and breathed through contractions, they were getting painful now. It demanded all my focus, and I instinctively got on all fours and let the water fall over my back. I checked my cervix a few times since I first jumped in the shower that morning, I had been unable to feel it until now where I guessed I was at least 5 with a bulging bag of waters. The more labour progressed, I could feel my cervix melting away, it's quite cool :) It was only when I could feel the bag of water that I was convinced it was labour.
I had some towels at the edge of the shower and in between contractions I started to feel sleepy so I literally napped. I rested my head on the towels, still on my hands and knees and closed my eyes. Oxytocin had kicked in for sure.
I started making small sounds, in the back of my mind I coached myself 'low sounds, low sounds' the higher pitched the sounds are the more painful it is, low sounds (like the 'om' when people meditate) help you relax so it actually hurts less... I kept my mouth open, because open mouth = open cervix...well something like that, I highly recommend Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Childbirth. J and D woke so S brought them into the bathroom where we chilled out and chatted inbetween contractions, they were the same length and had the same break between them but the intensity picked up. It wasn't long before I got loud.
J didn't like it when I had a contraction, these ones were really hurting and he got scared. In between the contractions I cuddled him and gave him a kiss to reassure him I'm fine, I kept telling them I was having the baby, and D thought it was the coolest thing ever. She kept excitedly dancing around :)
I knew I would not be able to have J and D with me much longer, labour was picking up so S called his mum.
My mother in law took 5 minutes to get to us (she was staying with a friend), later she told us she had just woken and just 'knew' something was up and then she got the call. This was a little after 5 I think.
I think I had just a couple contractions, these were not as strong, I was thinking about the kids and needed to be alone so labour stalled a little. As soon as my MIL got there and the kids were out of the room and entertained labour intensified.
I kept holding S's hands during contractions, I really needed his touch. As soon as a contraction built up, I grabbed for his hands and held tight and 'ommmm'ed' my way through the contraction.
I stopped thinking, I don't remember what was going through my head, I was in another world now.
I got a little pushy really soon after my mother in law got there, I checked myself and I was nearly complete but R's head was still high up. The next contraction was definitely a pushy contraction, I couldn't fight it so I didn't. I was on my hands and knees still, rocking my hips side to side and pushing with the urge.
I felt like I was pushing forever, I pushed a few times and checked myself (something that I really didn't think about, I just did it) and during each push I could feel his head moulding and moving ever so slightly down, bag of waters still intact. I was secretly hoping I would give birth to him in the caul (still in his bag of waters) because it's considered good luck.
S was messing around with the camera a few times since I started feeling pushy, I never really noticed but when I was pushing hard the camera batteries went flat. I still needed to hold onto him so he had to be really quick and rushed back the moment a contraction started. He did get the new batteries in and came back to me. Then it went flat again so we left it for a little bit.
I was getting tired, after about 15-20 minutes of full-on pushes, 3 pushes per contraction and contractions a minute apart lasting what felt like forever. Each push, I would feel him move a tiny bit. I started to feel stuck. I stood up a few times and felt like I couldn't go on. I felt like R just wasn't moving down, like he was stuck. I was getting frustrated. I complained to S, and tried to walk away. I said I give up, I am not doing this anymore, I can't do this anymore. He told me I could do it, I was doing it and that soon I would have a little baby to cuddle, to breastfeed and to love, he reminded me that I had been waiting for this and it would be so worth it. I knew he was right, he gave me some excitement back.
I walked out of the shower and paced around, then a contraction started and I quickly got back into the shower, this time I was standing while pushing, and it felt better but I fell to my knees again after it was over.
The contractions were intense now, I would shake and a couple of times cried a little. I felt like I was sitting in the water at the beach being hit by waves. I tried to go with them, still trying to relax as much as possible. This labour was less painful than J's, purely because didn't feel my hips seperating.
I felt like I should stand while I pushed, when I regained focus I realised I felt I needed to be off all fours which the reason he was hardly moving (if at all, it was likely all I was feeling was his head moulding). It was a little awkward trying to figure out what worked, I held onto S for physical support this time and after only a few contractions my water broke.
I checked myself again and felt his head, no longer with the bag of water in the way, and I could feel the little line on his head where the plates were squished together. I was ecstatic, I was touching my baby and I was the first to touch him. I laughed and cried much like I did when he was actually born. This was the most awesome moment I had ever experienced in labour, and this gave me strength.
I was now pushing with S holding me up, a supported squat I believe it is called. I think a birthing chair would have been ideal but this worked great. Every push did something, I could feel R moving down. In between contractions, I was resting and leaning against the wall when I felt R's little foot poke out the front/left. I am 99% sure he was ROP, slowly turning to come out. Feeling his foot made me giggle, and slightly sad that I'd probably never feel it again.
I pushed a little while longer, this time I felt like things were actually moving and it wasn't long at all before I dropped to my knees and instead of being really loud while I pushed, I grunted a little. R had dropped into the birth canal and was almost crowning. I was at the point where I knew the birth would be very, very soon. I was at peace and hardly focused on anything around me, I could do it on my own. I don't even remember what S was doing. Watching the video later, I can see I was entirely focused on pushing just as I needed to, unlike J's birth where I just gave it my all regardless if I needed to (ending up in that tear...) S did remind me to go slow, as I had asked him to in case I pushed too hard. I didn't need him to though, I told him I'm just doing what my body tells me to.
R began to crown, I felt the warm stretching feeling as he did, not what I would call 'the ring of fire' which I had with the other two. I cupped my hand over his head, this was a very slow, very controlled stage, I was scared out of my mind that I would tear, if I took my hand away for just a second to readjust my position or wipe water out of my face I would immediately cup my hand over his head again. I kept waiting to feel myself tear but never did.
I kneeled now, and all of a sudden I gave a push and he came out really fast. I don't remember what way he was facing but his body was facing up, he had a nuchal cord so I just pulled it over his head and then turned him to the side where he coughed out fluid and gave a loud cry. With the way the cord was around his neck it confirmed a dream I had the day before. I had dreamed that he would come out with a nuchal cord and because the placenta was anterior and to the left, he was nice and comfy ROP, only turning as he came out.
I checked his cord, it was a beautiful blue colour, pumping his blood back to him. He was covered in a bit of vernix and he was so chubby! I looked at him all over, from his crumpled little ears to his little heels. He was entirely perfect and was beautiful and pink.
I cried, I said hello, I vaguely remember seeing the kids at the door so I showed them and said I 'look, it's your baby brother' I just kneeled there and enjoyed the peace, feeling estatic. I was in no rush to do anything, it was perfect.
S took a couple of pictures on my mobile, just as I had leaned back to get comfortable. We saw a small gush of blood, we watched it and I checked the cord which was still thick and full of blood, I didn't worry myself yet, I remembered the same thing happening after J.
I got S to get a blanket, just in case R got cold and snuggled him close, skin to skin. S went to get the couch ready for me because I wasn't comfortable and wanted to sit, this was about 7am now. I got up and took a picture of R in my arms. I adore this photo.
I had no urge to push the placenta out yet, I wasn't getting contractions so I just waited, paid close attention to how I was feeling. I felt weak but not dizzy, I was hardly losing any blood so I walked to the couch and with help, sat down.
I called my mum and told her he was born, announcing his name - we had kept it to ourselves and wanted to announce it when he was born. I told her that he was born at 6:21am. My mum was thrilled but had no idea we had had a planned unassisted birth, we felt it was best not to tell them because they are ambulance officers and I felt it would cause them unnecessary stress knowing. She asked about his weight and because we hadn't weighed or measured him I told her we were at home and hadn't done it, she asked about my midwife and I said we didn't have one. She just assumed it went fast just like J's birth and encouraged me to head to the hospital soon. I think she was a bit surprised how relaxed I was, especially considering I still hadn't birthed the placenta haha
For me, it felt like the most normal thing in the world, it felt weird to be considering a trip to the hospital. I saw a doctor once during my pregnancy, my GP, only to get a referral for an ultrasound, the rest I took care of. I was not having blood tests or the screening they generally do at antenatal visits. Anything I was going to consent to, I could do myself. So I did, I liked having complete responsibility over my body and my baby, I never once worried or stressed about being told to do something due to someone else's fears. If I ever have another baby, I would do it my way again.
I did say to my mum that we were extremely prepared in the event of an 'accidental' unassisted birth but I think she still worried. I regret calling her so soon, because the trip to hospital weighed heavily on my mind and I really didn't want to think about it just yet.
I was uncomfortable after a little while, I had a cup of tea, took some arnica and snuggled with R, enjoying every moment but I wanted to stand, I was sure the placenta would be coming soon, I started to get some pains.
I got to the bathroom and tried to see if the placenta was ready, I pushed a little but nothing happened so I kneeled/sat on the floor. I swear it was only a couple of minutes before I had the urge to push again so I called S over and demanded he bring the bowl. He wasn't quick enough, so he had to pick the placenta up off the floor, going 'eeww' lol I admit, it was a bit ikky.
I passed R to S and for the first time I had my arms free and empty belly. I wanted a shower and I wanted to watch the bleeding. I stood up and watched the blood come out, it was a bit scary, I'd never experienced a physiological 3rd stage on my own, let alone truly experienced it. I had my midwife help me with J, with D I did nothing as it was heavily managed. I waited, I watched the blood fall and paid close attention to how I felt, chatting to S as well. I was never left alone, when the bleeding slowed dramatically which convinced me I was NOT about to haemmorage. I had my shepherd's purse tea waiting, kettle boiled, ready to be made if needed. I felt pretty good so I went to have my shower. It felt strange because not long before, I was giving birth in that shower.
I was all cleaned up and went to lie in bed with R, who was still attatched to the cord, we wanted to delay cord clamping as long as possible. I snuggled with him and tried to nurse him, he wasn't overly interested but nursed for a little while.
I really enjoyed this time, it was the first time things were relaxed and I never got to really enjoy this time with the others. All I ever wanted was to relax with my baby, in MY bed and take our time with unecessary things like cutting the cord. My dad called, I told him the good news, he asked me about the placenta, bleeding, how R was and such (mum had told him what I said earlier) he seemed more relaxed about it than mum, maybe because I sounded fine and could easily answer his questions.
A while later, nearly 3 hours since the birth we tied a cord I had made (it was soaked in boiling water) around his cord and S cut it. A little bit of blood fell, making me wish we had waited but the placenta and cord were very cold also the cord was white and limp.
I dressed R, we started to get ready to go to the hospital, wanting it to be over and done with. I checked the placenta and it was all there, so I just bagged it and chucked it in the freezer. I plan to encapsulate it (to this day, 8 weeks later I still haven't done it because we had no oven until a few days ago...I'll be doing it next week once I get the capsules lol)
When we got to the hospital, we just walked through the doors and they all perked up at their desks. I said 'I just had a baby, can someone check us over?' They didn't know what to think lol A midwife came over to me and noticed how new R was, she had thought I just got out of Base Hospital (where the babies are born) until I said, no, I had him just a few hours ago. The surprise on her face was hilarious.
I'll spare the details, it was a tedious 4 hours but everyone was surprised how calm I was, surprised that we didn't rush in straight away, that I didn't call the ambulance and even more so, that we cut the cord and I had already showered :P
I didn't tear enough to need stitches (I never felt any tear afterwards either so it must have been really small), R was fine (but I knew that) he was measured and weighed and there was a lot of paperwork.... oh so much paperwork. Initially they wanted R and I to stay 48 hours but I refused, I knew there was no reason to and was desperate to go back home. I said I would only stay 4, and it was not up for discussion. They gave me some food and R chilled out/slept on the neonatal bed (never seen one before lol I don't know what it is called but it had an inbuilt heart monitor and O2) next to me, they put the heater on so he wouldn't get cold while I ate and rested a bit. I swear most of the staff that came in 'just to grab one thing' used that as an excuse to come see R, one nurse told me we were 'the talk of the hospital' lol babies weren't born there, they really only saw the emergencies, the nurse told me it was nice to see the other side of things.
S had to get the placenta because they didn't believe me when I said I had checked it and it was intact.
When R was weighed, I couldn't believe them, 3650g which is 8lbs! He was 50cm long, which is longer than D and J who were only 48cm. R was my biggest baby yet :)
The male midwife (whom was really cool, he showed genuine interest when we talked about placenta encapsulation) asked us about the way he was born, curious about his position because he had a funny shaped head - he said it looked like he was posterior (the moulding was on the top, slightly to the right, the back of his head was rounded), I couldn't remember and felt like it didn't really matter so I said he came out normally and left it at that.
We went back home, and had our first night as a family of 5. I did have a nap and S took the kids out to get us some tea, he didn't feel like cooking, but I didn't sleep much, I was too in awe of R :P
I will never regret having an unassisted pregnancy and birth. I felt more in tune with my body and being entirely responsible was comforting. I never answered to anyone, I was never pressured into anything. It felt natural. I did miss having appointments with a midwife but it drove me to research more, anything I was uncertain about I looked up. I learnt so much about myself and about birth. I learned to trust birth even more than I had before. Above all else though, I learnt to trust my instincts as a mother. It's incredible how birth can change your life... no matter how many times you do it ;)
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