Anna's story, UK - pool labour with prolonged 2nd stage and forceps

"A delayed second stage forceps birth.

Sunday 2nd January 2011 about 8pm, just had dinner, sitting at home watching rubbish on TV and contractions started. Like bad period pains which came on, got more intense, and then disappeared. That happened every 3 mins or so, and lasted about 30 seconds.

I left it for about 2 hours to check the patterns weren't a figment of my imagination - and then phoned the midwife unit at the hospital. They said they were understaffed, so I'd have to go to labour ward instead.

We got there, buzzed and was let in, and eventually shown to an assessment room. A midwife called Anna with a very strong Polish accent came and met us, examined me, and put me on a trace for the best part of an hour. I was 3cm dilated, but not totally effaced. She said my "contractions" weren't contractions, but were tightenings. I could have slapped her!

So we came home, and sat it out. My TENS machine helped a bit, so I lay in bed with that on all night, didn't really sleep at all.

Monday 3rd January 2011 - by morning I was feeling quite sick, I think I decided it was the TENS machine, so took that off, and instead went for hanging over my yoga ball and trying to chill out. Contractions were still coming every 3 minutes up to 5 minutes, and lasting about 60 seconds. The intensity was increasing.

By that evening, I was so much less comfortable, they were more intense, and I wasn't coping brilliantly. TENS and paracetamol just weren't cutting it. I phoned the labour ward again, and they said to come in. So off we went again!

This time we met a midwife called Lisa, who took me straight to labour ward, rather than an assessment room. She examined me, and I was 3cm... but this time totally effaced, and the contractions were contractions. She said there wasn't a lot to do there and then, and suggested I could go home, or have a shot of Pethidine to help with the pain, and stay on a ward. Because Tom would have to go home, and we'd both be on our own, I decided not to have the Pethidine, but to go home instead. Got back home (after getting petrol and having several unpleasant contractions and therefore funny looks in the petrol station!) at about 10pm.

Tuesday 4th January 2011 - at about 3am, having not slept for the second night running because of the "discomfort", I decided to try having a bath, to see if that would ease things at all. Well... it didn't! I was still timing things, and it slowed the contractions down a little, but made them longer. Tom got up when I was in the bath, and sat with me with a worried look on his face! I decided to get out of the bath and phone the hospital again, they told me to come in.

I got in to an assessment room, met Claire the midwife, and she examined me (4cm and totally effaced), and put me on a trace, contractions were much stronger now, and I definitely needed some help with the pain. She gave me a shot of Pethidine, and told us we weren't going home without our baby... that's what I needed to hear. The Pethidine made me feel very warm and fuzzy, that's the only way I can describe it really. It did take the edge off the pain, and I got about half an hours sleep listening to the trace. Claire suggested we went for a walk around the park opposite the hospital, so we got outside just in time to see a crowd of people with big cameras standing in the middle of the park staring at the sky. Apparently there was a solar eclipse, but it was cloudy, so I think some very expensive cameras went unused! We did two laps of the park, with Tom predicting which lamp post we'd get to before the next contraction hit... and when it did I'd hang off his neck. Thank god for a tall husband!

When we got back from the walk, I got back on the bed in the assessment room and Claire brought us some tea and toast - having been aware we hadn't really eaten all night. The tea and toast was great, but the effects of the Pethidine hadn't left me and as soon as it went down, it bounced. I was very proud of not throwing up on myself... I was passed a bowl just in time!

After that joyful experience, we were told there was a room with a view down on labour ward for us. So we were moved to a room which overlooked the car park - and told that having a window was a massive benefit... well it was, but strangely enough I wanted the curtains closed so that no-one could gawp.

We were fairly soon introduced to Hilary the midwife and Beth the trainee. They were the day shift. They told us the room with the pool was free, and so we moved across the hall into there. I got into the pool at about 9.30am. It was lovely and I was quite comfortable in there.

Contractions were getting stronger and so I started on the gas and air. I can't say it took the pain away, but each contraction was a distant memory as soon as it was over. So much so that when Hilary was asking me how the contractions were, I had to say "ask me on the next one"!

After a little while in the pool I felt a pop and a gush, the strangest feeling, but it was obvious to me my waters had gone. It was like my ears had popped... but of course it wasn't my ears!

We had local radio playing, which matched my taste in music pretty well. Although I have no idea how many times we heard Take That, Ellie Goulding and Adele. No bad thing really!

I think the midwives decided I was transitional when Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing came on the radio and I just lost it. Absolutely sobbing. I can't really say now if it was transition or second stage, or if it was the sentimental side of me thinking of my amazing friends from the miscarriage groups one of whom has made that song very poignant - you know who you are!

At this point (about 12 noon I think) Hilary said, "I think we'll have a baby by 2pm". Well if that's not tempting fate, I don't know what is!

Hilary asked me to get out of the pool so she could examine me at about 1pm, I was 9cm dilated, but a tiny bit of my cervix was thicker again. They decided that my baby had turned back to back and possibly had changed head position so her chin was pointing upwards - not great news for a nice easy pool delivery.

They suggested I leant over to the left hand side to try and help the baby turn back, so I got in the pool and kept going, trying to lean over as much as possible.

I think it was at this point that I remembered I wanted to donate placenta/cord... anything that would be useful for stem cell research. So Hilary called in the lady who works for the donation team and I filled out some paperwork. They were very amused that I was in a fit state to do so!

At about 3pm, Hilary asked me to get out of the pool again so I could be examined to see if anything had changed. I was still 9cm, and still have this lip on my cervix. At this point, the contractions were making me pretty tired, and were quite intense, but I had no urge to push, so it was declared I had a delayed second stage and that a Syntocinon drip was a good idea.

I then asked for an epidural, because I was scared of not being able to cope when it got more intense than it was.

The anaesthetist was called, and the obstetrician came in to set up the drip. I felt a bit of a failure, but had a weird feeling that I'd always need help... so went with it.

There was a change in shift of midwives at this point, so in came Fanny the French midwife (yes really). We had a good chat, and it turns out she knows my obstetrician friend in Poole... small world!

The epidural was absolutely fine while being placed, the anaesthetist was very complementary about my ability to stay still while having it administered. He said he hadn't had a lady at 9cm who could stay as still before.

Unfortunately the epidural didn't quite do it's job. It was perfect down my left hand side, totally numb, and couldn't move my left leg at all. But on the right hand side, it didn't completely work. I had a pocket of pain on my right hand side, in fact it felt like I had a big bubble of trapped wind (who knows, maybe I did!). Because the baby had turned back to back, they wanted me to lie on my left, and this was just impossibly agonising, so no matter how many times they suggested it, I couldn't do it.

I think at some point here, there was another change of midwife, and we met Lottie - who I think was a trainee, or recently qualified - she was being supervised by Lisa who we had met the night before. I didn't warm to Lottie... but by this stage I wasn't warming to anyone!

The drip kept getting upped... which I hated. I really do think it's quite an evil invention. The obstetrician came in, examined me and finally the lip in my cervix had gone and I was fully dilated. Time for pushing.

But there was still no urge to push, of course the epidural had taken that away. So I was told to push anyway. I started pushing, and kept being told to push into my bottom. Well, I couldn't feel my bottom, all I could feel was this pocket of pain on my right hand side. So every time I pushed, it hurt. I wanted the gas and air still... but they kept taking it off me so that I would use my breath to push, not use it for gas and air.

So pushing wasn't going well, and the obstetrician came in (a different one now!). She was very unhappy with me, as I had pretty much given up pushing as I couldn't feel any urge, any progress and it just hurt more and more. She said I had 30 minutes to push the baby down or they were taking me to theatre. She also doubled the dose of the Syntocinon drip at this point - so I told her she was inhumane!

I knew I had to keep going and didn't really want a section (although if anyone had said it was a possibility I'd have said 'just do it). So I pushed and pushed and pushed with all my might. In a little under half an hour, I had pushed pretty well and they could see the baby's head. Thankfully the baby's obs were absolutely fine the whole time, no distress at all. I was so tired, that they took pity on me (I think you could call it that) and wheeled in a forceps kit, and the ventouse machine. They were telling me all about the ventouse machine - but then suddenly I was having the forceps positioned.

The obstetrician told me it would be at least 3 or 4 pushes for the head, and then the same for the body. Well... one push later the head was out, and then a half push later, the body was out. We were told we had a little girl... it was such a shock. I don't know why as for the first half of my pregnancy I was convinced she was a she! It was also a shock that she had so much hair!

Tom was handed a pair of scissors and told to cut the cord - he hadn't been sure he wanted to, but the scary obstetrician didn't leave him with much choice! Our daughter was handed to me and she lay on my chest for a minute or so. The paediatrician then had to check her over because it was an instrumental birth.

I had had a cut, and then started losing blood (750mls in total). Our daughter was declared fine (10 and 10 on her APGAR) so handed to Daddy while I was stitched and sorted. Once that was complete, she was weighed, and then handed back to me.

She weighed 4535g at birth, and was born at 22.12pm on Tuesday 4th January 2011. She was 13 days overdue, and just beat the appointment we had for induction on 5th Jan. Her due date was 22/12 - so numerically she arrived on time, it was the time, not the date though!

The name Sadie Beatrice was at the top of our list for a girl for the whole of our pregnancy, and so at some point I said to Tom, "is she our Sadie then?" and he said yes with a big grin.

We finally brought her home on Friday 7th January and I can honestly say I have never been as happy to get her home. She's changed our lives in so many ways."

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Beth's story, South Wales - quicker labour, missing waters

"After my first experience of childbirth, I was positive that I was more prepared this time around. I believed I knew what labour felt like, and I knew the signs and symptoms. I knew to pack dark pyjama bottoms, because the blood loss after birth would be tremendous. I knew that when I was ready to push, it would feel like I needed a poo. I also remembered that rush of love I felt for that little newborn in my arms, and was prepared for it.

My dream homebirth had been scrapped at 36 weeks after being rushed into hospital with severe high blood pressure, so I had resigned myself to having a second hospital birth. After two membrane sweeps at 39 weeks and being 2cm dilated both times, I was now 1 day past my due date and thoroughly miserable with extremely painful Pelvic Girdle Pain and desperate to get everything over with.

We hit the sack pretty late, but I was asleep in no time. 6am I woke up with a niggly bump, and realised that it wasn’t going to be long until I was going to meet my baby. I had a midwife appointment booked for 10am, so decided to try and get back to sleep until Little Man needed to get up for school. It was 7.45am when I woke up next, and the day absolutely had to start. It was a pretty normal morning, well for 15 minutes. I was eating my breakfast when I felt the first agonising pain shoot through my pelvis. “Oh my God, J, that hurt,” I said. “What?” he replied, still half asleep. “The pain in my pelvis.” It was only a couple of minutes later when I had another, so I started timing them.

By 8.30am I’d had 8 pains and I knew something was happening. We dropped Little Man off at school and continued about our plans taking J’s sister to her doctor’s appointment. While we were waiting for J’s sister, the pains started coming more frequently, every 3 minutes and starting to last longer, but they were still in my pelvis and nothing in my bump. I decided to call my midwife. “I’ll give you a home visit, Beth, if you’d prefer. Or if things are too difficult call the labour ward,” she advised. I decided to take the second course of action as I also hadn’t felt a kick that morning. “Come in and we’ll monitor the baby, but it does sound like it’s the groundwork being done,” the midwife on the phone advised.

We took J’s mum and sister home, picked Little Man back up from school, called my Mam and headed off to the hospital at 10am. Mam was meeting us there so her and my nan could have Little Man and the wait was excruciating.

When Mam arrived she took one look at me and knew it was not just 'groundwork being done’. “I’ll find somewhere to park the car, and I’ll be back for you,” Mam said as she left. With that me and J headed off to the labour ward.

As soon as we got there, I was given an internal examination. “Ah yes, 2-3cm, so you’re not in labour,” the examining midwife said. I was then hooked up to the monitor, and baby’s heartbeat came out loud and clear. I continued being monitored for a whole hour, and despite the pains in my pelvis every 3 minutes, nothing was coming through on the monitor. I was devastated, I really wasn’t in labour. Eventually, the monitor was taken off, and I was told to go for a scan and then go home. “How long will it be?” I asked. “Oh, it could be days yet,” was the reply I got. I couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into tears, I really couldn’t cope with this pain for days. As we walked out, with me crying my eyes out, I heard, “Beth, what’s wrong?” I turned and saw my mother’s concerned face and could barely get the words out, so we just walked to the ultrasound department, stopping every couple of minutes because of the pain.

While in the waiting room, surrounded by women coming in for their first antenatal appointment, I started to panic. The pain was so intense I just couldn’t cope. “Oh, lovely, what’s wrong?” a midwife walked over to us, and took us into one of the rooms. We explained and she put her hand on my bump and calmed me down, “You’re scaring all these women off,” she laughed. Minutes later, my name was called and we went through for my scan at 12.16pm. I’ll always remember D, I’d seen her a few times throughout the pregnancy, and she was absolutely fantastic. She scanned me, and felt the contractions through my bump herself and suggested we didn’t go home, as it definitely wouldn’t be days. “Let’s go outside, and we can call M,” Mam said. (M is my Godmother who delivered Little Man when in remission from breast cancer, who was recently diagnosed with lung cancer.) The entire time Mam was on the phone to M, I felt the urge to push. I didn’t know what to do with myself, or how I was going to survive this.

As we weren’t going to leave the hospital, we went to the restaurant and I ate a cheese and tomato sandwich in between contractions which were lasting over 90 seconds and starting every 3 minutes. I couldn’t handle the pain so we went back to the labour ward and at 1.20pm I was examined and was 4cm, with membranes intact but I WAS IN LABOUR! I cried with relief then got excited as I knew it would be long.

Over in the delivery suite (which wasn’t as mad a rush as the first time), I was fitted with a canular, had oodles of blood taken and was put on an antibiotic drip as I had a high temperature. My ideas of a mobile labour had gone out of the window. I eventually gave in to gas and air around 2.30pm and immediately turned into a silly billy. “I didn’t have a shower this morning,” I moaned, making everyone in the room laugh. I had 2 fully qualified midwives, and a lovely student who made me feel completely at ease with their chatter and laughter in the background. My waters still hadn’t gone and that was a talking point with the midwives and they all stood out of the way, just in case.

By 2.45pm, I was pushing with no control over it and no breaks in between contractions, as quickly as one was finishing another was starting. It was agony. “I’m pooing, I’m gonna poooo.” That feeling had got me again. I was determind I knew what it felt like, but obviously not.

I’d had enough by 3.15pm. “Mam, I want it over. I want Pethidine. I want a section. I just want it over, Mam, please?” I’d turned into a baby, and looked at the midwives wondering why the hell they hadn’t moved to get me what I wanted. “I want a section… Now” I cried.

“F, I think you ought to check how far she is? She could be doing damage by pushing.” One of the qualified said to the student. F gloved up, and examined me. “I think I can still feel a bit of the cervix.” She said, “Could you double check for me?” The qualified turned around to glove up, and another contraction tore through my body, “Oh, there’s the head, stop pushing…. little pushes.” As I ‘little pushed’ I looked down, and saw my baby land in F’s hands. Baby was placed on my stomach, and my first reaction was, “how small is my baby?”

It took me a while to realise I didn’t actually know whether I’d given birth to a boy or a girl. J cut the cord and we looked down together. A girl, a beautiful baby girl. I cried, Mam cried, J cried. It was amazing.

Then something happened I wish I’d filmed, she started rooting for the breast and all by herself, she found it. It was an incredible sight. Her first thought was booby and that was all she was interested in. Her first feed was a good 20 minutes long and at least an hour of skin to skin was amazing. Afterwards, we realised that again my waters had not gone, and there was none when Dot arrived. It’s another mystery. And I’d almost cut my labour time in half, being in established labour for just 2 hours 12 minutes. I was in love once again with the little human I’d just given birth to and at that moment nothing else mattered.

Dot

2nd December 2009

3.32pm

9lb 1oz"

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Beth's story, South Wales - need a poo!

"Tired and heavy and 5 days overdue, I took my 12 year old brother over the Showfield so he could have a mess around with his new golf clubs. It was fun, and I did nothing but laugh as we both attempted a game of golf. Golf is not one of my strongest sports, in fact I find it rather boring, but on this occasion it was hilarious.

Walking home later on, still laughing we discussed what Mam was cooking for tea - gammon, egg and chips. Yummy.

At home, the laughter continued. Little Brother started tickling me. Uh oh, I was laughing so hard, I wet myself. On examination in the toilet, I discovered I had not wet myself, but there was some strange liquid coming from me. “Mam,” I called, “I don’t think I’ve wet myself.” “What do you mean?” replied Mam. I wasn’t given time to answer, “Ow,” I moaned as I felt a pain travel through my bump. “Mam, I think my labour’s starting.”

It was 7.30pm and Mam hurried around to finish cooking tea, just in case it was labour, and within 30 minutes I’d experienced 4 contractions. Mam sent me and Little Brother out for another walk around the Showfield, armed with a pen and a piece of paper to jot down timings.

8.15pm – 30 seconds
8.23pm – 31 seconds

8.30pm – 40 seconds

8.45pm – 45 seconds

8.50pm – 50 seconds

8.55pm – 50 seconds

9.00pm – 60 seconds

As me and Little Brother arrived back at the house Mam took the paper out of his hand and raised her eyebrows, “Are you sure?” she asked. As Little Brother and I nodded in reply I saw a flicker of panic in her eyes, before she calmly stated, “we should ring M now I think.” (M is my Godmother and a midwife. At the time she was on sick leave and in remission from breast cancer, but was going to act as my second birth partner.)

The next half hour was filled with contractions every 5 minutes, and lasting between 50 and 90 seconds apiece, while attempting a conversation with M. After what seemed like an eternity, she asked me to pass the phone back to Mam.

By 10pm we were in the car, and on our way to the hospital. Every speed bump torturing my body with every contraction.

11.30pm and we were finally in a room, and T, the wonderful midwife asked, “Would you like some gas and air while I do this?” while pulling on her gloves. (To me know the image vaguely resembles those comedy sketches of doctors pulling the gloves in an exaggerated fashion, but I’m sure it was nothing like this.)

I accepted the gas and air because I didn’t have a clue what was going to happen next until…. “OW, that hurt more than the contraction” I told T. She just grinned at me, while saying I was 3cm dilated with membranes still intact.

Mam noticed my puzzled expression and asked M to explain everything to me.

“Now, Beth, you have the option to go home or stay. You’re not in established labour yet.” T advised as she walked back into the room. Before I had chance to think about the choice, M answered, “I think we’re better off staying here,” and so it was I stayed in the room, and was told I’d be examined again in 4 hours.

The next 2 hours are a bit of a blur, I walked the corridors, I howled, I cried with frustration. Eventually M got me to take some more gas and air, and within minutes I was giggling about everything. “They sell this stuff in nightclubs, it’s called laughing gas,” I piped up. This set an incredible conversation off, and I was no part of it. I was already floating to play with the pixies. Another hour had passed and I was still puffing on the gas and air (although Mam later told me the cylinder was, in fact, empty) and continued giggling away. (My only explanation is that it was a natural high.)

3.30am, and T arrived to examine me. This time I was prepared. “You’re 4cm dilated, and your membranes are still intact,” she told me. There was a deflated atmosphere in the room as Mam and M worked out 1cm per hour for a first time labour, 6cm to go, 6 hours to go. 9.30am at the earliest. I cried when they told me. M and T talked me into having Pethidine ‘just to help the time pass quicker’. 20 minutes later, “I need a poo,” I shouted as I bolted to the toilet, and sat down. Mam joined me, for some ‘moral support’. "Mam, I’m gonna be sick!” Mam was one step ahead of me, and had a bowl in front of me before I could say ‘sick’. Somewhere in between, I was given the Pethidine, and the sickness was over with.

“I NEEEEEEED A POOOOOO!” I shouted. “Beth, are you pushing?” Mam asked. “No, I neeed a poooo!” I cried. “T, I think she’s pushing.” T rushed over, and checked. “Oh My God, she’s crowning.” I had absolutely no idea what this mean “Mam?” I whined. “It’s OK, Beth, you’re having your baby, YOU’RE HAVING YOUR BABY!” she shouted excitedly.

Immediately, everyone burst into action. I was told to get on the bed, we had to get down to the delivery suite as I was a high risk pregnancy. “Don’t push, Beth, don’t you dare push. We’re not delivering this baby in the lift,” M scolded as her and T wheeled me into the lift.

We arrived at the delivery suite at 4.15am, 1 push later and a head appeared.

“Slow down, pant, Beth, don’t push,” someone said. “Now, baby pushes.”

4.16am and a gorgeous little baby was placed onto my chest. “Is my baby ok?” I asked, concerned as I hadn’t heard the cry I was expecting. “Yes, everything looks OK.”

“What have I got?” was my second question as I looked between the legs and seeing little boy bits. “Mam, I’ve got a baby boy. Mam, I’ve got a baby.” The placenta took a while to deliver, but I was busy with my little boy. He latched on perfectly for his first feed within minutes of being born and I was already totally in love with my baby boy.

Later, T and M puzzled over my waters as they didn’t break throughout labour, and they didn’t follow Little Man out. In fact, we have no idea where they went, they just seemed to vanish.

It was a lovely labour, and an easy birth. Little Man’s shoulder grazed me on the way out, but other than that it was perfect. Established labour was worked out at 3 hours and 55 minutes, and 4cm to delivery happened within 46 minutes.

Little Man

13th August 2005

4.16am

8lb 3oz"

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