Zuri's Birth

I am from Biggar Sask about 50mins from Saskatoon. I am 25 years old... This is my daughter Zuri's birth story....







I think a brief medical history is needed before starting my story. When I was about 14 years old I was diagnosed with a uterine horn and it was removed because of the extreme amount of pain it caused me when I had my monthly period. This basically meant that I had 2 uterus'. (one almost fully developed and another small closed off one that filled with blood and contracted and caused pain) After this was removed I was told I should be able to have children normal like anyone else although I had only 1 tube and 2 ovaries. Sure enough when my partner and I decided to try for a baby it took only a few short months and after my first period since trying we got pregnant.

I saw an OB for the whole pregnancy because no one really seemed sure how my pregnancy would play out. I had about 7 ultrasounds through my pregnancy to “watch” if everything was going well which it was. I had an ultrasound right before going into labour and no one seemed to notice anything...

The night of December 27 2009 my partner Chris Bailey and I were having a family supper for Christmas at my grandmothers. I was 32 weeks pregnant with Zuri. I ate so much turkey and potatoes I felt like I might burst. Little did I know that hours later this would come true.

Just after midnight that same night it turned December 28 2009 and I was playing a game on Facebook. (Treasure Isle) Chris was upstairs sleeping and had to work in the morning. I went into the fridge to eat some left over turkey and chocolate. As I was standing there pigging out I heard a pop and felt a gush. I looked down to see water pouring through my pants. I thought “oh my god I'm peeing my pants!” I grabbed at my crotch and smelt the liquid. Didn't smell like pee and it wouldn't stop. Yes, I was in HUGE denial about my water just breaking. I started to panic and ran upstairs turned the light on in the bedroom and yelled at Chris “ CHRIS GET UP I THINK MY WATER JUST BROKE!” He sat straight up out of a dead sleep and said “Oh my god really? Are you sure?” I said “I think so, look.” I sat on the toilet for a few minutes till I got some clean pants.

I called my mom and told her and in minutes my whole family was at my house, including mom, dad and my younger sister. I am sure I was in denial and shock because I went on Facebook and typed in my status what happened. I started to walk around drinking a pop. I was saying “I have tons of time to pack and get ready because I was reading that women go into labour and it takes hours or even days for the baby to arrive!!” Little did I know that this was NOT the case with me having a baby at 32 weeks.

After my family yelled enough for me to get into the car we discovered there was no gas to make it to the hospital in the city 1 hour away. It was midnight so nothing was open. We had to drive and get my sisters car. Once I got into my sisters car we started to head to the city. (Saskatoon) Chris was driving I was passenger and my mom was in the back seat. My dad and sister followed in there car. About 15-20 minutes since my water broke and just out of town I started to have contractions. My mom was timing them. She kept saying “this isn't right, this can't be right..” I said “what's going on? Why do you seem worried?” She said “Well your contractions seem to be perfectly 5 minutes apart and this happens at the END of labour!” I guess I was STILL in denial because I didn't seem to realize I was very close to having Zuri. I kept having an extreme urge to pee and poop. I had Chris stop the car and got out in the snow and -20 weather and stared to push really hard trying to pee. (I realize NOW this was me wanted to PUSH Zuri out!) After this my contractions were about 3 consistent minutes apart. My mom called 911. I have to “use the bathroom” and it was driving me crazy so I wanted Chris to pull over again. The lady on the phone said “NO, don't let her do that whatever you do!!”

We drove a few more miles and met the ambulance and by the time I got in my contractions were VERY strong and about 2 minutes apart. The paramedic “checked” me and said “I feel a foot!” (I later found out this was her bum pocking out) I said “where? How far out?” She was coming and by now I started to realize this and had to “hold on” and not push.

We pulled into the hospital about 2 ½ hours after my water broke, I was 10 centimetres dilated and Zuri was WELL on her way and breech. My contractions were pretty much one long one by this point and I SO wanted to just push her out. (Knowing what I know now I probably just would have) I was rushed into emergency and the doctor came in and I heard them talking about if they should do a c-section because she was breach or let me push her out. At this point I was not able to speak for myself and just signed the paper for the c-section having no idea what it even said. I could have been signing over my soul for all I knew. I signed the paper and was instantly giving the epidural for a c-section. As this was happening I was trying with everything I had not to push while I had a nurse yelling at me “DON'T PUSH!”

Before I knew it I was cut open and could “feel” them pulling Zuri out then I heard her cry and I was so happy. Zuri was born 4 lbs 4 oz and 16 Inches long! This isn't to small for a baby born at 32 weeks. Chris was right next to me taking pictures of her and telling me she was ok and everything was going great. Thank god for his support. Then the most amazing moment happened and they passed Zuri to Chris and he held her by my face and she was beautiful. Chris was talking to me and she was looking around for him. She recognized his voice and knew this was her daddy. It was simply amazing!

Then this story starts to get sad... I never got to touch her yet and they took her down to the NICU. I was wheeled into the recovery room where I threw up all the turkey and chocolate I ate earlier that night. I really regretted that. After a while I was moved into a room where I go to sleep. Not once did anyone ask or talk to me about breast feeding my baby or pumping. The next day once I realize I had no milk for Zuri and she was getting formula I got upset and started to ask what to do. I didn't get much or any help for that matter. I was just told to use this pump and pump my milk. I later found an amazing nurse that explained everything to me and how to do it and how often. She said about every 2-3 hours around the clock.

This is when the pumping started in. I pumped every 2-3 hours and set my phone alarm to wake up in the night. I will NEVER forget how exciting it was to see the first few drops of milk only a few days later. The first time I started to get milk was about 2:00AM and as it started to come I cried and cried. I pumped for an hour to get about an oz. I made it a point to bring it down to Zuri myself in the middle of the night crying because I was so happy to get it and give it to her and from the pain of the c-section.

Days later I finally got to hold Zuri for the first time. I touched her a few days before but not hold her. This was very difficult because I honestly think I sound horrible when I say this but I did not feel a bond between us. I felt empty and almost like I had “lost” a baby the whole 49 days in the hospital. There was no skin to skin and hardly any breast feeding. I spent most of my time arguing with the nurses back and forth to keep feeding Zuri breast milk. Almost every time I went back into the room they were feeding formula. The reason would be because she was spitting up because of re-flux and I didn't know any better so I listened. I know SO much better now but this didn't help me then.

While in the hospital Chris and I stayed with Zuri and nearly went poor in the process. We could hardly afford rent, food or bills. At times we just didn't pay anything because we couldn't. We need to focus all our attention on and being with Zuri and forget the rest. We had enough stress with being in the hospital. We each had a few breakdowns but thankfully at separate times so we could be there for each other. We also had amazing support from family. My amazing mother was in the city almost daily to be with me. For anyone that has had a baby in the NICU you must know the pain I speak of. PLUS, we were treated like non-humans most often while there. They kicked us out of our room and put us on the dirty floor at one point. One horrific event I will never forget because it was one of the scariest times in my life. I was sitting in the room with Zuri and a large group of doctors and students came in and were looking at Zuri and talking to each other while I was sitting there. They completely ignored me and talked amongst each other. I could hear them saying something about Zuri's heart. I was panicked and asked what was wrong and they just said “oh she has a heart murmur and will be fine” while walking out. I was freaked out and so worried something was wrong with my baby and NO ONE to explain anything to me. I had to wait a few days to find out anything about it. (It is now gone and she is great!) but at the time I had NO idea what was going on. Talk about being treated like an animal.

So 49 days of hell later, it was time for Zuri to come home. It was an amazing but scary day. We took Zuri home in her car seat and she looked so tiny at not yet 5 lbs. For the first few months it was very difficult because I still pumped around the clock every 2-3 hours (through the night) because Zuri had trouble getting enough milk from the breast. I was also extremely afraid to stop pumping and lose my milk. I was 100% against the idea of formula and wanted a large supply of milk in case anything went wrong. It never did. One day I just put the pump away and said “lets try just breast feeding for a few days.” Well ever since then the bottles have never been used again and were put away completely and Zuri is and was exclusively breast fed. I am SO proud to say this! Through all the stress, pain and hardships I never stopped pumping breast milk for my beautiful baby and am so glad I made this choice. So glad I never had to give 1 drop of formula since her early NICU days.

Chris and I went through a lot but we were there for each other through it all and this matters most. Yes, I am sad I never got to have a natural birth but I don't regret anything because it made me the amazing mommy I am. Would I ever go through this again? Not in 100 years! Now that I KNOW better I will DO better! Next time NO formula! I have so many supports (Friends and Eats On Feets milk sharing) I would make sure of this. Would I get a c-section again? NEVER! I missed out on that beautiful skin to skin contact that every mother NEEDS to bond. Like I said I felt like I lost a baby for so long and it took me a while to bond properly with my beautiful baby. Now we get skin to skin daily! I do feel like Zuri and I missed out on what is sacred and special at birth and will do everything I can next time to MAKE SURE this never happens again. This experience has taught Chris and I a lot for better.

Zuri is now almost a year old and breast feeding like a sure pro and not stopping anytime soon. She will wean when she is good and ready. She is strong and healthy and weighs 17 lbs and is 27 ½ Inches long! She is the most amazing little girl. She is loved by all our hearts! I hope other mommies can read this story and gain strength. We will do all we can do as parents to fight for our children and make sure they get what is best for them.


 First time I ever held Zuri, 5th First time Chris (daddy) ever held Zuri. 6th Zuri 1 years old. (Current)

Amy McCarty

Two Paths

Nate’s Birth Story—5 years old




It is hard to remember details from an event of over 5 years ago but sometimes impressions are the most important parts of memory. I remember being anxious and uncertain-wanting this baby to come as soon as possible. Not only did I think that a due date was a guarantee of arrival, I also had believed my Dr. When he told me a month earlier that the baby would come anytime. With Braxton hicks and what I felt to be incredible discomfort, I was eager to be in labour if only to have that baby in my arms. The waiting was challenging to say the least and then the induction process frustrating. What I remember, I remember stages. The administration of cervadil - labouring at home - intense pain of contractions close together - arrival at the hospital - little progress - oxytocin then being administered. Labouring into the night listening to Sarah McGlaughliun -an epidural-slow progress. Pushing for an hour. Nate’s heart rate going down. Having to talk about vacuum and c-section possibility. Finally, after so much anxiety, Nate being born and feeling relief, panic about the blood and not so small amounts of pain. After suctioning Nate was returned to me and I remember feeling uncertain. The nurses had me try to nurse immediately which I felt daunting. I felt like I had been through a war zone and my body had been battered and irrevocably changed-in ways I couldn’t have anticipated by the experience. And yet I learned from the journey-about myself and about my son.

John’s Birth Story—2 years old



I knew that things were going to be different. I wanted to rewrite the birth experience I had with Nate so I researched as much as I could about birth-a birth without interventions that would leave me feeling like I had the previous time. From reading, birth choices (this is a group that offers prenatal once a month for free), preparation and getting set with B. as our Doula, I felt like this time would be different. John’s arrival began at 2am. And within hours the contractions were hard and heavy at 2 minutes apart. We got to the hospital and continued to labour with many comfort measures. Despite some significant discouragement (and later lack of participation) from Dr. W., we had a great nurse-nAncy- as well as some ability to get in to the shower to relieve some pain. The back labour was excruciating and seemingly unending. The progress seemed slow and the day continued to drag on. I recall wanting to be done and then knowing the pain was too much. I hit a point when I wanted-begged-prayed-for it to be over. I recall calling out and being desperate for relief. I remember a nurse telling me I simply had to get through the “ring of fire” and being desperate for it all to be over. John’s eventual arrival was amazing-to see him safe and beautiful. I was on a high-and ready to run a marathon I thought. It was a recovery that took very little time and I remember elation and euphoria as I nursed and bonded with him.

Robbie's Birth Story

Robbie's birth story doesn't begin with a contraction, nor does it begin with his conception, it began several years ago when I became pregnant with our first baby. It was the summer of 2005. Dave and I were SO EXCITED to be expecting our first child. I had the usual first trimester nausea and fatigue, until one Sunday evening I went to the washroom and discovered I had started spotting. The following week was a blur of doctor's appointments, ultrasounds and tears. We heard the news we never, ever expected to hear...we had lost the baby. At 2:30am September 19th, 2005 I woke up in the guest bedroom on my inlaws house with intense cramping (we weren't living in Saskatoon at that point, but were there for work stuff). I ran to the washroom where I birthed my angel baby ('passing the pregnancy' sounds like such an awful term to me). I sat there for a few minutes, holding my baby in my hands. I sobbed until I had nothing left in me. I felt empty, I felt numb, I felt broken.



After the miscarriage Dave and I tried and tried and tried to conceive again. After seven painstaking months, we conceived again, a couple of weeks after our angel baby's due date. This time, we were terrified. I was OBSESSED with having a healthy pregnancy. I read, and worried and did everything I thought I should do in order to carry a healthy baby to term. We knew that Dave was not a 'medical' kind of guy, so hired a doula half way through my pregnancy. We prepared for the birth, but throughout that entire time, I carried this major fear that I was unable to carry a healthy baby to term. I didn't believe or trust in my body. I went to term, in fact I went over due. When I was a week overdue, I went in to labour. It wasn't the labour I had expected. I didn't trust my body, I didn't trust the process. After 3 days of labour and an epidural I finally gave birth to our beautiful boy, James. He was 10lbs 4 oz and 22 inches long and he was a very healthy baby :)



When James turned one, we decided we were ready to try for a second child. This time I knew my body was capable of growing a healthy baby, but I still lacked confidence in my body's ability to birth the way it was designed to do. From the beginning of my pregnancy I began preparing for the birth. We hired our doula again and decided to go with a midwife instead of a doctor. Throughout my pregnancy we had decided that plan 'A' would be a hospital birth, but if all was going well and we were comfortable, we would be open to a home birth. Again, my due date came and went. This baby was COMFY and NOT ready to come out. I knew this baby was going to be big. James was a big boy and there was no doubt that this one was going to be big too. We set up the birthing pool in our kitchen area so we were ready for when labour began. On Sunday, June 28th (11 days over due) I began nesting like a crazy lady! Of course, I didn't realize that I was nesting, I was just SO pissed off that this baby was still inside and needed to clean in order to get the anger out. My doula asked me if there was any doubts I was having and I told her that I didn't believe that I could do this. She told me to be positive for the rest of the day and to watch some home birth videos on YouTube. I watched them and bawled my eyes out. They were beautiful, I realized that I REALLY wanted to see my baby. I went to have my afternoon nap and woke up 2 hours later at 3:30pm feeling very rested and happy.



I got out of bed and felt like I had to go to the bathroom (I had eaten an entire watermelon the day before in an attempt to empty my bowels and stimulate labour...yes, I was DESPERATE!). I went to the bathroom and went downstairs to continue my nesting. All of a sudden I felt like I had to go to the bathroom again. I went, thinking nothing of it. Finally, after the third trip to the bathroom, I said to Dave "I think I'm having false labour again, I'm going in to the tub to see if anything happens". I grabbed a glass of water and my watch. As I sat in the bath I realized the contractions were coming every 3-4 minutes, lasting about 30-ish seconds, they weren't going away. At that point, I called my doula, she agreed that it sounded like labour and to call her when I needed her. I decided to give my midwife a call and while on the phone with her, I had a few contractions. She decided to come over immediately. Soon after talking to her, I called my doula and asked her to come over. During all of this, Dave was trying to fill the birthing pool and locate my mother-in-law to come get James (she was on the golf course, having an amazing game WITHOUT her cell phone).



My doula arrived and she helped me through a few contractions. It was obvious I was in active labour and was having a lot of trouble getting comfortable in the tub. We decided to move to the bedroom where I laboured on my hands and knees on my exercise ball. Once I moved in to the bedroom I did what I had been preparing so long for...I surrendered. I allowed my body to take over, I simply allowed it all to happen, I didn't fight it, I didn't analyze it, I just was. It was very primal, very raw, very real. It was amazing. My midwife arrived and checked the baby's heart rate, my blood pressure and checked my cervix. I was 6-7 cms with membranes bulging. She said everything was going really well, but this was the point at which we needed to decide whether to stay or go. We called Dave in (who was still trying to fill the birthing pool...he had managed to locate his mom, who had taken James to her house). After a quick discussion between contractions, we decided to stay at home. I felt SO confident in that decision. After our discussion, I went back into myself, simply allowing myself to surrender to the process. I remember at one point looking at our bedroom clock and it said "5:30pm", I thought to myself "I am going to have this baby in the next hour". At 6pm, my midwife checked me again because I had begun to bear down at the peak of my contractions. I was at 10cms with my membranes still bulging. My doula and midwife suggested that I move to the toilet to see if my membranes would rupture while I sat on the toilet. Sure enough, first contraction on the toilet, they ruptured, nice and clear! At that point I felt the ring of fire! Yup, that head was definitely there! I didn't freak out, I didn't think much about it, just continued to follow my body. I tried pushing on the floor, but felt I wasn't able to get my knees wide enough. So I climbed up on the bed and pushed while I laid on my side. At that point the secondary midwife had arrived and they were getting set up for the birth. As I was pushing I had my doula to my right, holding one leg, my primary midwife at the end of the bed, supporting my perineum and the secondary midwife cheering me on. I felt like something was missing. I said "I need Dave" (still filling the birthing pool....) so the three of them all screamed "DAVE!" and he raced in to sit on my left hand side. I recall that time stood still, an out of body experience. After 30 minutes of pushing, Robbie was born. His cord had been wrapped around his neck twice, but the midwife calmly removed it. He was placed immediately on my chest and we hung out and snuggled together. We let the cord finish pulsating and then I cut it. After delivering the placenta the midwives checked me over and told me that I had one small 'scratch' inside my vagina, no actual tears. After some bonding, they did the newborn exam. Robbie was perfect :) When they weighed him, we were all shocked. He weighed 11lbs 14oz and 23 inches long!!! The biggest baby that both midwives had ever delivered at home.



I had done it. Woke up in active labour and gave birth 3 hours later to an almost 12lb baby! I had my birth the way I had wanted it, the way I had NEEDED it. It completely changed me. It gave me confidence in myself that I never knew I had. Now I know who I am. Now I know what I'm capable of. I no longer doubt myself. I believe.

Battle for the vaginal birth

When I was 11 I was told because of my health condition I would likely never have children, unless I were to adopt. I was told this again shortly after I was married. Not a problem, we wanted to adopt anyway. When I was 21 I was late for the first time EVER so I figured, this is it, I must have uterine cancer. I went to the doctor alone because I didn’t want anyone to know yet, especially my new husband. After the doctor revealed the earth shattering news I called my husband and had him come get me. I was sure I was too much in shock to make the short walk home. I got into the car and didn’t say a word. He noticed I was pale and asked why I was there and what happened. I informed him that I was 3 weeks pregnant. He fell absolutely silent for 30 seconds, then said “We’re going to need classical music.”

In the coming months as the pregnancy progressed we were ecstatic and living in bliss with our pending arrival. We were living in a new city for my husband's schooling and had no near by friends or relatives, but we were happy. This was a very small city and they were limited medically, as well as low on prenatal classes, so we were winging it.

 I took an online birth class, and googled pain management but was truly very ignorant of all that is really involved in labour. When my husband graduated he could not find work in his field for 2 months straight. So we packed up, I left the doctor who was following the pregnancy, and moved cities. I was seven months pregnant at the time. When we got moved in we were glad to have friends and family close by again, but it took a little bit to get my prenatal care back on track. I felt like I sort of slipped through the cracks. When I got to see the doctor who was assigned to “catch” my baby he laughed out loud when I told him I wanted a drug free labour and told me “We’ll see how it goes.”

When he took my blood pressure his joking demeanour and the smile on his face quickly faded. He called a nurse in to bring a different cuff and tried again. He shook his head and rubbed his chin at the results and sent us to the hospital immediately. Upon arrival my terrified husband and I were told that I had pre-eclampsia and that the baby and I were in great danger. They would need to induce me right then. It was already evening and visiting hours were coming to an end. They forced my husband to go home, leaving me alone, and scared in the hospital. In my past I was sexually assaulted and am terrified of any kind of vaginal exam as a result. So it was hard when I had to allow a medical student to insert that tab that softens the cervix. He wrapped the string around and around put it in.. I didn’t think that was right, but thought he must know what he is doing he is a medical student, I am just a patient.

Labour progressed through the night. They strapped a fetal monitor on me. And gave me a pitocin drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. I wasn’t offered any food, but I could drink small amounts of water. My husband came back as soon as he was able and I felt better with him by my side. I relaxed a little and as I did, my contractions got stronger and more painful. I did what felt natural and was moaning through them. I was informed by an irritated nurse that I had to be quieter because this was a shared room, and I might be bothering the other women. So, completely ashamed, I stopped making noises. Hours went by and I was checked by a no non-sense nurse.

I tried to tell her I was afraid of vaginal exams but she became annoyed quickly and scolded “Stop crying!” as she forced her way in to check. Finally I was able to go into the delivery wing. There was a wonderful nurse there. She was so motherly and calming. I felt myself calm down and relax. I thought I had to have a bowel movement and went to the bathroom to try to go. The nurse recognised this and had me come out and on to the bed where I can be checked and wait for the doctor. While we waited, the wonderful nurse was off shift and another nurse came in with the same no nonsense nurse as before. She checked me much in the same manor, only this time said over her shoulder to the other nurse “This one is a crier”, then looked back to me “You are not going to cry this time are you?” and they were both laughing about it. I was too embarrassed to do anything else but laugh with them. I cried again during the check. When my doctor finally arrived he noticed in my charts that I had that insert. He decided it was time to take it out. Fine, accept he couldn’t find it, so the nurse tries, she can’t find it. A different nurse tries and also cant find it. This is sheer agony for me, and I loose track of how many people are looking for it in me, and of how long it took. I only became aware of my surroundings again when the doctor was repeating my name until he got my attention and showed me they had finally found it.

Then the doctor buzzes around the room and looks at the foetal monitor charts, and my contractions, and tells me that My baby is probably too big and I may need a c-section. I declined and he offered me an epidural, again I declined. Then he said they would break my water to help the baby drop as she was still very high up there. Once that was done they discovered there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. My doctor said they would need to do a c-section. My throat felt like it was getting too tight and it was hard to breath. I didn’t know what was happening, I just knew I DID NOT want a c-section.

 I remembered somewhere in my research reading about having a whole 24 hours to deliver a baby once waters have broken. I brought this up and my doctor reluctantly agreed “for now” and offered me an epidural before leaving. I declined then he left. I thought this would be a good time to let the night nurse know my wishes for my baby after she is born. I requested that I be allowed bonding time with my baby before the weighing, eye gouping, and cleaning. I told her I wanted to breast feed right away and for my baby never to have a bottle or formula or to be taken to the nursery. This seemed to make the nurse very irate, as if I were undermining her or something. She puffed up her chest, jutted out her jaw and gave a half laugh and said “We will take your baby to the nursery if needed and we will giver her a bottle of formula. That is what happens in the nursery” the tight feeling was back and I thought I couldn’t breathe.

The nurse went on to explain about different procedures that would prevent my wishes. She then went on to talking about how they will do a c-section if needed. The tight feeling got even worse and she called the doctor back in. He examined me and said if I wasn’t able to calm down they would need to do a c-section. My husband held my hand tightly and that was all I thought about for a moment. Just the feeling of his strong, sure hands on mine. They then offered me an epidural yet again but with the promise that it would help us all to relax. I finally agreed. They missed on the first try and tried again. They and got it. The doctor left, and my poor husband was fainting. It occurred to me he hadn’t eaten since he got there that morning, and it was coming on to 10:00pm. I sent him to get food, then passed out for a little bit. I came to when the night nurse was taking blood pressure I asked her for water, but she refused. I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours and hadn’t had water in about 16 hours. To this day my husband and I are not sure why, but she then began to continue our discussion from before about how they would take my baby if needed and give her a bottle. I began to have trouble breathing again then my husband asserted himself, for the first time since I met him. He angrily asked the nurse why she was telling us all of this. The nurse seemed slightly taken back, then snapped “I need a smoke!” and left.

I was informed that my doctor went home for the night and a new doctor would be taking over. I waited for what seemed like forever to meet him. I went into that labour-land trance where you are pretty sure you are going to die. I don’t know how long this lasted, but the doctor finally came. He suggested a c-section. The night nurse quickly responded that my doctor thought it would be best, but I was able to focus enough to tell him no I wanted a vaginal birth. But my voice sounded so far away and lost in time. Then I remember the night doctor was looking directly in my eyes and calling my name. I focused enough to hear him. He was saying that if I was going to make it through this, I needed to look in his eyes and only there. He told me it was time to push.

I began to push. It was 2:03 in the morning. I pushed, laying on my back, in a semi sitting position with my husband holding one leg and the night nurse on the other. I pushed when they said to for as long as they said to. I was pretty sure my brain was going to explode. All I could here was the blood loudly rushing in my ears. My eyes felt as if they would burst. They announced the baby was crowning. They asked me to push harder than ever before, as I was in the middle of pushing when I felt sudden, searing hot pain and I screamed loudly. I was harshly reprimanded by the night nurse not to make noise. Then the doctor seemed to panic and said “We need to help her out!” He grabbed the forceps and without warning or asking me ripped my baby out of me. It was 2:16. She was quickly whisked away to a table in the corner while the NICU team assessed her. After lots of suctioning she cried. She was alive. She weighed 8lbs even, they reported.

 I asked my husband to go be with her as they stitched me up. When he spoke, I realized it was the first time since she was born. The NICU team informed us that when my husband spoke our daughter actually turned her head towards him. (she is still a daddy’s girl to this day) As they stitched me up, my husband brought my daughter to me, I held her in my arms and I knew that we had won the battle. In a world of doctors and nurses that said I couldn’t, I did. With the help of God and my own determination, my new family and I fought and won!

MOM NATURALLY BIRTHS 7 lbs 14 oz BABY GIRL

Let’s take a minute to recover from that thought, shall we?

Another baby girl made her grand entrance into the world on Novemeber 13th, 2008. She was born in hospital and was home three hours later. With today’s advance Health Care system, how could something like this have occurred?

Nine months prior to this delivery both her mom and dad were shocked that they were expecting another baby. After a traumatic delivery with their first child, born by caesarean section, they had not known if they would risk another pregnancy, another surgical delivery. Mom is quoted to have said ‘if I ever get pregnant again, I will have a Vaginal Birth After Caesarean (VBAC), even if it means we stay at home to deliver the baby’!! The nerve! This topic has remained quite controversial among health care professionals. Some physicians have even gone as far as to suggest that first time caesarean moms schedule surgical deliveries for all subsequent births. Not this mom, she would hear nothing of it. So, as a new reporter for Confessions of a Birth-a-holic, I desperately wanted to chronicle the couple’s experience with this thing called natural birth, and a VBAC at that. How would they succeed? Here is their story…

First of all, these parents took matters into their own hands. They researched and planned for a successful VBAC delivery. How? First they made sure they understood the evidence surrounding the risks and benefits of a VBAC. They were confident in their decision that a VBAC was best for both mom and baby. After much searching, they also located a physician who would support their decision. Many of the doctors they talked with discussed a trial of labour. But this mom was not comfortable with that kind of terminology; she was focussed on a successful natural labour and delivery. Baby’s mom really felt that she had been robbed of the natural childbirth experience with her first baby, who was a footling breech and subsequent caesarean section. With this pregnancy, she was determined to welcome the marvels of womanhood through a vaginal birthing experience. Wow, I think to myself as I reflect on this ideology, the wonders of a woman.

There were many other facets involved with the preparation for the birth. In order to prepare mom for the physical and emotional challenges of labour and delivery, she took a self-instructed hypnobirthing course. That said, during labour she is quoted to have said ‘turn this s--t off’ while listening to her hypnosis CD’s. Apparently the hypnosis preparation was not as efficient as their other chosen support system, a Doula. Huh? What the heck is that you ask? I was dumbfounded upon hearing of this professional but apparently there are women experienced in childbirth who want to provide physical, emotional and informational support to mothers, before, during and after childbirth. News to me (and now you) but not news to this couple! Their Doula was hired because they knew her, liked her, admired her and trusted that she could provide them with the information and support they would require to accomplish their goal of a VBAC.

Since mom had much invested in the vaginal birth of her second child, the Doula had her work cut out for her. She knew personal details about this couple, and the mom specifically (which is a whole other story), that meant she would have to have a heightened awareness of the labour progress and when to head to the hospital. Although mom had earlier said she would rather stay at home than risk a caesarean, she also knew that, as a VBAC patient, her doctor was more comfortable with her delivering in hospital (even if they would have to get a disco ball to give mom the birth experience she so desired).

As luck would have it, baby was one-week post dates (note sarcasm here). Mom went to a doctor’s appointment only to find out that her cervix was posterior. That’s right, there was nothing…notta…zip…zero…ziltch…happening ‘down there’. This news always causes stress for a pregnant mom, since every day after d-day is a ticking time bomb to induction. Not good news for a VBAC mom. But, as luck really would have it, one hour after hearing this news, pressure waves started. Mom had a feeling that these waves were ‘it’ despite having had two previous days of what she referred to as ‘surfing the waves’. So, in response to the realization of the impending birth, mom headed to Fuddrucker’s for a last supper of sorts (it is reported that women labour more efficiently after consuming the Hawaiian Chicken Salad from Fudd’s). Several hours later, mom called her Doula to let her know that the day had arrived, it was a second coming for the mom and she was prepared! The Doula responded by checking in on the emotional state of the couple and setting up a birthing tub for mom to labour in. When mom finally decided to use the tub, she knew the Doula and her tub were God sent.

After a few hours of labouring in the shower, on the bed and in the bathroom, it was finally ‘tub time’ and mom spent four solid hours squatting in that labour tub, with her Doula and her husband never leaving her side. She had finally found her rhythm, as the Doula had counselled them she would. The entire time in the tub, her Doula provided counter pressure on her back during each contraction. Looking back, the mom has said ‘it was almost relaxing…if one can call intense, bulldozing, abdominal pain relaxing’! The Doula also whispered encouraging words and ensured the couple that things were progressing normally. Whew! What a relief to both mom and dad! And speaking of dad, he was also an amazing support during this physically and emotionally demanding task. Eyewitnesses say mom actually bit his leg or hand during some of the contractions. I think we can safely assume that the Doula was happy that she was not on the receiving end of those fangs.

As labour progressed and got more intense, the impending transfer to the hospital was inevitable. The couple desperately wanted to labour at home for as long as possible, in order to avoid unnecessary medical intervention, but they still wanted to deliver in hospital. Time was of the essence and this couple completely trusted their Doula to know when to leave and how to get mom, so far progressed in labour, out of the tub, into the car and to the hospital. And the Doula did. She knew exactly when it was time; she remained calm and supportive while they relocated. They arrived at the hospital 10 cm dilated. Hooray! Mission accomplished. Ah…no…wait…she still had to actually deliver the baby!

Being at the hospital was a whole new experience that required additional support from the Doula. I mean, who makes these hospital policies where the husband is meant to wait in line to fill out forms, whilst a mom in need of physical and emotional support stands alone? Thank goodness for the Doula, who never left the birthing mom’s side. Not to mention, it might have been a bit awkward for a woman to be alone, wearing only a T-shirt and boots in the hallway, leaning over a wheelchair, moaning and groaning. Then again, this is the ER, so maybe not.

Once the paperwork was completed the threesome headed for labour and delivery. This is where mom was in for a real shock. No one had ever told her that the hallway from the elevator to labour and delivery is about a 100-kilometre distance! I was also shocked when she told me. It seems unbelievable. But, I feel it is my duty to let pregnant women know, if you deliver in hospital, you will be required to pass through this extremely long hallway. It’s the only way to get there. Apparently this dad is quoted to have said ‘it doesn’t look that long’ (I believe she may have bit his hand clean off with the next contraction). Luckily, the Doula reassured them that at the end of this little hallway, they would finally reach their destination.

Upon examination by the attending physician, the parents were thrilled to hear that it was time to welcome baby into their waiting arms! They thought this would be quick and easy. The baby would arrive in 20 minutes, give or take a few and they’d be calling all their friends and family with the dirty deets of the birth. Wrong. Thank goodness for the Doula. She was a calm presence, a wealth of knowledge and a great support for the parents while baby took her sweet time descending the birth canal. When the pushing wasn’t progressing, the Doula suggested switching positions, played soothing music, provided physical support and constantly whispered encouraging words to the mother. It was the Doula, not the doctor, nurse or spouse, who eased the fears the mom had of feeling the baby crown and her fear of tearing. She reassured mom that her perineum was being protected and that when the baby crowned, she would be born. It was exactly what mom needed to hear and with the next wave, baby arrived. Finally, with the collaboration of mom, dad, doctor and the Doula, the VBAC birth was successful. Mission accomplished.

I asked this baby’s mom about her feelings on her VBAC experience and this was her response:
“I believe birth is one of the most important, life-impacting journeys a woman goes through. It was a right of passage that I longed for. I wanted to be able to experience the complete submission of myself to my body, to let go and allow my body and my baby do the job they were designed to do. I did this with the support of my husband and my Doula. This was a major accomplishment and despite that, there was no hero cookie handed to me when it was over (which was fine, I wasn’t hungry anyway). Besides, I had my supportive Doula, my proud husband to give me all the kudos I required. The only thing I’ve pondered since the birth of my baby is this, where were the news media and television crews???”

I couldn’t agree more. Woman naturally births 7 lbs 14 oz baby girl! Now that is news worthy!

( this was submitted by an amazing mom who loves to write in third person)

The Birth of My Second Daughter… How I Came To Give Birth In A Bathroom.

When I had my first daughter, it was a nightmare… the only good part was that I was handed a baby. Seriously.

I totally could relate to this artwork: http://birthlove.cyclzone.com/pages/csec_vbac/meghan.html

Then I met Rebecca Francis, a doula from Seattle. I told her my birth story… in tears. She told me it sounded like I could have used a doula. I learnt what a doula was… what they do… and how to become one. I thought that women should have the option of professional labour support, should they choose it. The outcomes show that there is a serious benefit. Then one morning, not long after, I woke up and thought that while I still wanted to be a doula, why not be part of the movement to give women a completely different choice of care provider…?

I decided to become a midwife…

Within a month of midwifery education… I wanted a baby!

I THOUGHT I WAS INSANE… but nevertheless!!!!

(I have been told this happens a lot… My first daughter had weaned‘officially’ in September, at age two… so I maybe it was biological in more ways than one….)

Needless to say I wanted my care to come from a midwife, and if I qualified, I wanted to have a homebirth.

I found an amazing midwife… Her partner midwife IRONICALLY had lived up the STREET from us when I had my first daughter. (MAJOR kick in the stomach.)

I had a fantastic pregnancy, I felt really healthy, and very pro-active. I received informed choice and consent on EVERY aspect of my pregnancy. I chose to have an initial blood work up for type, Rh factor, Rubella immunity, HIV, and HBV. I had one ultrasound at about 20 weeks. I qualified for homebirth, but was unable to have it in MY home due to the distance and current legislation. For this reason, Neil and I decided to have the baby in my doula's house.

My Mom arrived on July 15th. When I’m close to having a baby, it’s like I wait for her… I ALSO was waiting on newborn sized baby diapers…. They came on the 18th, at that point I knew I was ready to have a baby. All systems were a go… I just lovingly looked at my birth supplies… it was a weird time.

Throughout the 20th and 21st, I had ‘Pre Labour Symptoms’… sometimes referred to as ‘False Labour Symptoms’ by the Medical Model. It is not that stage of labour which is ‘actively’ dilating the cervix… and is therefore not true active labour… but it is preparing and toning the uterus, effacing the cervix, preparing and toning the mother… It’s the jog before the marathon. On the night of the 21st I knew I’d have a baby soon. I felt a lot more pressure, and was moving into the zone… I called my doula for a heads up. She was planning on going out, and was like ‘Eileen, should I be going out?’ And I was like, ‘Yes, go out… just don’t paint the town red because I’m pretty sure I’ll be in tomorrow.’

By midnight on (the 22nd) I was waking up to a contraction every 20 minutes… they were getting stronger, but not closer together. I’d get a good grip for about 15-20 seconds. This was my first experience with normal labour, as last time I had back labour… I would roll out of bed; get onto all fours, and think to myself, ‘this is bizarre, the sensation goes away between contractions.’ I’d then roll back into bed, and literally fall asleep.

At 4am I woke my Mom up, and told her that we needed to get organized to go to the city, I was 10 minutes apart. She was a bit stressed… we didn’t even have our bags packed… we packed… and ate…I had a bath… and then we waited for Neil and our daughter to wake up. At about 7am our daughter was up… so within 15 minutes I went in and said to Neil, ‘You better get up, we need to head into the city, I’m in labour.’

You should have seen the LEAP he did.

It was so ER… get the woman to the hospital… change your pants… like.
Only… we weren’t going to the hospital… and he needed to calm down.
I was like, ‘Relax, just get dressed and get organized, so you can help me with Ais.’

At 8am we were in the truck, ready…
I asked if we had the tubs…
Neil said, ‘What tubs?’
I said… ‘The ones with the birth supplies….?’

Back in the house he went…

PHEW! THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN GOOD!!!!!!!!! (NOT!)

We made it to Rosetown, and we stopped for me to go to the washroom, and get something to eat… the man who was pumping the gas and washing the windows asked Neil if ‘his wife was in labour.’ Neil’s like ‘yep.’ And buddy proceeds to say ‘OH, my girlfriend did that a few weeks ago…’ and tell him the story!!!!

I actually slept between Rosetown and Saskatoon. I was already tired, I told myself ‘YOU NEED TO SLEEP.’ I don’t actually recall any more than ONE contraction between Rosetown and Saskatoon… weird eh?

By 10:30am, we were at my doula’s house.

I had two contractions 10 minutes apart, and then they moved to 8 minutes.

We settled in…

Neil ran to Tim’s to grab me an egg salad sandwich, and then to Booster Juice for a Very Berry Juice, with GO GIRL booster.

While we ate, my midwife arrived to do my blood pressure, take my temperature, and remind me to eat lots, pee on the hour or more, and to just see how I was doing. She also said that she would do a vaginal exam only at my request (I had previously said no VEs in labour), and that she’d stick around, but would only come into my room to check heart tones… Otherwise, she understood I wanted privacy, and would be in the main part of the doulas house, holler if I wanted her.

While we ate, I moved to 5 minutes apart…

We’d all eat, and then I’d hop off the chair…
Mom would hop up, and do the double-hip squeeze, my doula would talk me through the stretch, Neil would encourage me, and our daughter would inform everyone that “her Mom needed to have a baby.”

I ate most of the sandwich, and then we went back upstairs.

That was at 12:30 pm, my midwife and doula told Mom that I’d have a baby by suppertime. I was thinking that while I adored them, they could kiss it!!! I was NOT waiting until suppertime!!!!!

This is when my ability to tell time goes to hell.

I just remember walking… a lot.

We filled the tub, I got into it… I had two contractions, during which nobody could reach me to do the double-hip squeeze… I asked them to help me out… SO MUCH FOR THE WATER. I hated it… it was not an ideal set-up. Lesson learnt.

It was bizarre, when I had a contraction, and after one… I HAD to move. And moving would bring on another one. Bizarre, totally bizarre… I usually was leaning forward but sometimes I leaned back. After one contraction I hit the floor and went into Childs Pose. Everyone was like ‘oh yeah….’ Totally do not know what I was doing… or why, but it worked! There was no slowing me down, or speeding me up… I was completely at the whims of nature and my body.

Nobody told me how to be, where to be… They held the space, and let me labour.

Within a couple contractions my midwife was in the room to check heart tones… I looked at her and asked her to get me a bucket because I thought I might be sick.

She grabbed me the bucket, but it was like I couldn’t vomit up and out… it was just gurgling under the surface, making it to my mouth, and then sliding back down.
^Needless to say, I’m off egg salad and booster juice!

I looked at her and Mom and said that I needed to go to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet, and BAM, that was when I hit the wall that everyone talks about…

You get that ‘Oh my God, I can’t do this anymore’ and then you start wanting to push… and you are back in charge. I just needed to make it to wanting to push….

I was just glad I knew it was coming… I’d hit the wall, and now I had to scale it… I have no idea how long this part was... to me it’s like a minute of memory, but everyone else assures me it was longer than that!

I sat on the toilet and cried… And then soon after I felt like ‘I give up… I surrender’ and then shortly after I got a sensation that caused me to do a little 3 second grunty push. I looked at my Mom and said, “Mommy help me…” and she started to get upset.

She bent down to hug me… and I literally tried to crawl her. She thought I was giving up… and she didn’t know what to do.

I needed her to get me off the damn toilet.

Communication was obviously breaking down… and I had about 5 seconds of time to speak between urges. It was cryptic.

My doula came into the bathroom and she squatted down to look at my perineum, and then she helped my Mom pull me up off the toilet. She then hollered to my midwife, who was coming into the suite that “we had show,” and that I was starting to push a bit. I was standing in the doorway arms around my Mom, face in her chest… and someone asked if I thought I could move to the couch, so I could rest on it…. I couldn’t talk so I just shook my head ‘no’ and my Mom spoke for me.

They grabbed everything and started hauling it into the bathroom…

Neil came in at some point, and I ended up with my right hand in his hand…

A contraction would hit, I would let out a quick shriek, I would then feel the urge to push for about 3 seconds, and then I’d just stand and moan, and slide side to side.

And then it would happen again.



According to the attendants I only pushed 3 times, but I know it was more like 6 times, they just weren’t there yet!

My midwife told me that the baby was still in the membranes, head out, but that there was a nuchal cord (cord around neck), so she asked permission to AROM (break the waters.) I shook my head ‘yes’ and my Mom spoke for me.


They couldn’t rupture the membranes, they were THAT tough

She then told me that on my next urge, give a push, and have a baby.

I could feel that one shoulder was still in… I shrieked, pushed, and felt the shoulder slide slowly out, and then this wet slippery baby slide out of me, totally ‘in the caul’.

It was so cool.

They then sat me back, and handed her to me between my legs… Ais informed me she was a girl.

A beautiful 8 lbs, 22 inch baby GIRL! (Who felt like birthing a watermelon.)

In a few minutes, I have no idea of time lapse, the placenta was birthed, and my doula said she missed the bin, the midwife said that was ok. Everything sort of became sepia, and I thought ‘wow, I don’t feel very good.’

And then, I was at Cirque do Soleil… watching acrobats in green costumes.

And then I felt movement, I opened my eyes and I could see my midwife over me… everything was still in sepia, but I knew my doulas shirt was turquoise… not grey… so something wasn’t right somewhere.

They rolled me on my side, and I started to see colour again, my doulas shirt was back to being its normal shade.

My midwife asked my permission to give me an injection of artificial oxytocin.

I said ‘yes’ and she gave me a shot in the thigh.

And talk about ouch…. Literally spawned a muscle contraction… which I guess I should have known, but OUCH all the same.

That was when I knew I was hemorrhaging. And that I was scaring the crap out of my husband.

I could see the book ‘Spiritual Midwifery’ and I remembered Ina May teaching her midwifery students to tell the mother to ‘stop bleeding’ in an authoritarian tone.

I told myself to stop bleeding, or I know where I’d be heading….

She massaged my uterus, and they re-latched the baby…

It seems to me that within a minute or so she asked my permission to give me another injection of artificial oxytocin. I said yes… although less enthusiastically!

(It was actually 30 minutes later.)

They made me lay on the floor for what seemed like forever… (think half naked, and wet on a bathroom floor…) then they did a lift, and four of them carried me to the bed.

I lay on the bed through the placenta inspection, and newborn exam…which they did all right beside me so I could partake.

I then ate. Traverna Raviolli. (Now if THAT doesn’t beat hospital food, I don’t know what does!)

And then they put in 6 sutures… ironically on the other side from my last tear! (Proof that comfrey kicks butt.)

The next morning I had breakfast, my midwife came, and I felt like I was coming around.

They got me up to take me to the bathroom, up until this point I had been using a potty in the bed! I sat on the toilet, and I was at Cirque de Soleil, again…. Repeat performance in more ways then one.

I woke up, on the bathroom floor, AGAIN, with my head against the toilet bowl, AGAIN.

And I literally said, “Fuck Around.”

Back into bed, back to using the potty, and just eating and drinking…

Later that day we tried again, this time I told them I was going to pass out, and they hauled me off and onto the floor.

So, the deal was… when I could get up, use the washroom, and NOT see Cirque… I could go home. BUT I had to take it easy for a minimum of 5 days.

That took till the next morning.

We’re fantastic though… She has not a mark on her, and came out rooting and feisty.

I didn’t feel polluted, or groggy.

And I feel like I have had this amazing experience… not the romantic waterbirth, by all means. But I did give birth on MY terms. I have found something in myself that I didn’t know was there… at this point I can’t even explain it, but when I can, I will fill you all in.

I have this bumper sticker that says “Women of the Earth, Take Back Your Birth.”

And I keep looking at it….

That’s what I did….

On some level, something that was injured at my first daughter’s birth has healed.

You can heal too….

The Birth of My First Daughter… A Lesson in WHAT NOT TO DO.

Well, when I was first pregnant I wanted to have midwifery care, but there was no midwife to be had in my area that I knew of. At the time, the nearest midwife was 5 hours away…. So, I opted for a GP. I actually switched at 4 months, because I felt that she wasn’t spending the time necessary to answer my questions which made me uncomfortable. I then switched to another GP who I liked. But, my husband (partner at the time) was in university, so in September, we moved back to Saskatoon and were therefore two hours from the GP I had been seeing.

My Mom lives in Nova Scotia, she flew in on the 21st of September… she kept saying that I would have the baby before she got there, and I kept saying I’d wait for her…. I started feeling restless and ‘funny’ as soon as I saw her at the airport! That Friday, Neil, my partner, headed back to our farm… a 2 hour drive, to continue with harvest…. About 15 minutes later I lost my mucous plug. But I was determined to wait until he got back on Monday!!!

All day and all night Saturday I had contraction about every 10-12 minutes apart. Sunday morning my Mom and I woke up, had tea, watched Coronation Street…. She cooked some eggs, but I couldn’t eat them. She grilled some zucchini and I devoured it. We went out that evening to a friend’s restaurant… nothing appealed to me at all… I was just not feeling myself… and my pelvis and back were really ache-y, I just could not get the sensation to release. I lay in bed Sunday night… the contraction started coming every 3-5 minutes apart…. I would fall asleep, wake up, look at the clock…. 10:32…. 10:35… then every once in awhile I would wake up at say 11:02 and feel like I had slept… even though the last contraction was at 10:59.

By Monday at noon I was really uncomfortable, pacing the floor, and crying, afraid to go to the hospital, wondering WHEN THE HELL Neil was going to come home. My mom and I were wondering if we should drive all the way home or go to the city hospital…. Her head was very much engaged, so after thinking about sitting for two hours with the pain I had through my back and pelvis, I opted for the city hospital even though I knew I’d have an intern situation. I remember telling my Mom that I just wanted to stay home and not go anywhere… and she told me that if her friend Christine was here, we could maybe do that. (She’d had 5 kids.) But since my Mom ‘only did it once’ that was NOT an option.

Neil called at 11am…. I told him I was fine. Mom called him back and told him to quit playing farmer and get in here. He called an hour later. Theoretically he should have been half way there… I answered the phone…



‘Does your Mom want a blade roast or some T-Bones?’

’WHERE are you?’

’In the basement, getting meat.’

The rest is censored. I basically told him that me being in labour, trumps picking up meat, and to get in the car….

Oh, and that his job of ‘driving the woman to the hospital’ was being replaced by my Mom…. Who was already starting the car, and loading the bag.

We got lost driving to the hospital…. I don’t remember much except going across the city bridge like 5 times, while my Mom cried and apologized, and I tried to tell her it was ok, I didn’t want to go anyway.

We arrived… at the wrong entrance… nothing like having contractions and being stared at by strangers…. Finally a lovely old man wheeled us a wheelchair. Mom wheeled me to the other end. I was admitted into ‘Labour Assessment.’

Neil arrived…. Along with my Dad, step mom, and half-brother who is actually only 3 months older then Aislynn. The RN checked me, and said I was 3-stretch-4 cms…. I couldn’t believe it… I had waited until I was 3 minutes apart, a minute long, for OVER and hour… what… the…? The RN asked me if I wanted to go in the Jacuzzi. I said sure… so I headed a couple rooms down… there was this awkward moment when she told me to get in, and I asked what I wore…. She said ‘you go naked’ and I wanted to just die. Then a contraction hit, and I no longer gave a shit.

I got in, and it felt pretty good. I was there for hours…. They brought me a ‘clear plate’ consisting of soup broth and jello…. Oh, and apple juice. I drank the juice. Chicken and me didn’t mix in my pregnancy, and I would never eat jello. About the time I decided I was done, Neil bumped the tray and it flew all over. Comic relief I’m telling you.

I had to get out a few times, to be checked…. 3-stretch-4, 3-stretch-4, 3-stretch 4, 3-stretch-4…. Oh and 3-STRETCH-4.

So the Dr on call decided that I wasn’t allowed in the Jacuzzi anymore. I had to walk. So I walked… until I couldn’t stand it anymore…. Then I sat in a rocking chair… I was trying desperately to find counterpressure.

Then I went back to the ‘Labour Assessment’ room. The Dr check my cervix, only this time he had a half a dozen interns… nobody asked if that was ok… it was ‘everyone take a turn’…. When he did it the second time, he pushed on my cervix during a contraction. This pain shot up my spine, and I literally went into the bridge position. He pushed me down, told me I was still 3cm. It was now 9pm. I had been there for 9 hours. He then marked my sheet as ‘failure to progress’ and told me that I had two options because he was sure I would need a c-section. I should have made progress by now.

Option 1: Get an epidural, start the Pitocin, wait a bit, IF I made it to 4-stretch-5cms they’d break my water… then I might deliver vaginally. He then added that he ‘doubted that I would deliver vaginally at this point though, so it made sense to place the catheter’.

Option 2: “Stay like this, and then be put under when you need the c-section, because at this point you will never progress”.

Exact words, nice eh?

Is that really two options???

SO you have passed med school… maybe try CHARM school!

It would be a frosty Friday in hell before I was going to be put to sleep around this man… so I opted for the epidural, even though that had always been the second last thing I wanted.

They moved me to delivery at 9pm, and had an IV inserted. They started the Pitocin.

Later that evening I was prepped for the epidural… By this time I was losing track of time.

I was terrified while it was being done. I asked her to put the tube in but no medication... she said they couldn't do that because they needed to be sure it would work for a c-section. She did say that I could have a low dosage though, and that if it proved to work they would discuss turning it off... so long as I showed some progression.

I was only suppose to have one person there while she but the needle in. But I had to have two, one was my support, one was the person who signed the consent, since I was ‘incapable.’ My husband held one side of me. My Father held the other... I can still vividly remember how sick my husband looked. I can also vividly remember how hard my Father pushed on me.... and his whisper telling me ‘not to move or I'd never walk again.’ That was in the early morning.

I waited to feel the pinch in my legs, or a twitch that she told me to watch for. Nothing.

I laid back... was catheterized, became weirdly numb, and dilated.

At 4 cm they broke the amniotic sac.

They turned the epidural down at 5cm, and switched it off at 6cm… they had been switching me side to side because the medication was not having the ‘desired’ effect.

I was not very comfortable… being on my back had been the most painful, and now here I was ON MY BACK with a quarter of my body numb and everything else in varying degrees of NOT numb… catheterized and bed-bound. I wasn’t about to complain either, I didn’t dare. I just kept rolling my pelvis as much as I could. The catheter was not placed permanently… on one occasion I remember saying I had to pee, and the Nurse pushed on my bladder and said I ‘was fine’. I remember saying I could feel it, and she told me I couldn’t. My only option was to soil myself in the bed, on the chux pad.

FINALLY, by about 3:40am, the RN announced I was at 10cm.

The Dr came in and said we’d practice pushing… “we’d”… Yeah.

I did one practice push, but it was hard, because even though I wasn’t numb, I really didn’t feel like I need to push… I felt more like I needed to take a break. I did anyways though, like I said previously… I didn’t dare comment. I was so scared.

I pushed a few times… 3 including the ‘practice.’ My Mom had to leave for the last one. The RN told her to just stay out until the baby was born… my Mom told her that she was “going to go get a drink, put her head between her legs, and she’d be back”.

He then told me that the baby was OP, and that he’s have to use the vacuum to bring her head back, so it could go up, and out. He used the vacuum for a push… it was awful. Even now I remember the feeling of it snapping open inside of me. It still makes me feel kind of sick. I pushed once more, he said that this wasn’t working; she was stuck. He ordered the epidural back on and then told the RN to go and put me on the list for the next available OR.

That’s when the machines started beeping….

The RN had walked out, I looked around, my Mom looked at me… looked at the machine, I looked at Neil… he said ‘What the hell?’ The Dr said the baby was ‘in distress’….

So I pushed…. With no urge, I pushed… and when I held it till I couldn’t hold it anymore, and then I took another breath and pushed again.

My Mom said, “Oh yes, I see her head, she’s coming.”

The Dr yelled, “YOU CAN’T DO THIS. STOP!”

Out she came.

Into the ‘one-gloved’ hands of one not-too-impressed OB/GYN.

And she was so perfect….

The RN came in, to a BABY!

A beautiful 8lbs 2 oz, 22 inch baby GIRL!

The pushing had lasted not even 5 minutes.

The stitches took significantly longer…. 148 in total…. 45 minutes by two OB/GYN’s

I wasn’t allowed to shower, because the postpartum RN’s felt that I was too exhausted.

My IV was left on a drip-rate that was too high… I was later told by accident. But, nevertheless, at 6am I had to use the washroom… even with the RNs assistance I ended up passed out on the floor. I ripped stitches.

My daughter developed a case of jaundice that lasted 6 days… for the first 4 days she was in the nursery because apparently they didn’t have a moveable bili-light. While she was there she was started on formula, without my consent. An RN actually told me that “I was 20 years old, and 20 year olds don’t succeed at breastfeeding.” At the time she really upset me, I cried and cried… but she also gave me the opportunity to prove her wrong.

On Day 5, a fabulous Nurse, who’s name is Christine, brought my baby back to me… in a MOVEABLE bili-light.

On Day 6, another fabulous Nurse, who’s name escapes me, was the first RN to ASK to check my peri-pad and actually give me privacy while doing so.

On Day 6, late afternoon, we went home!!! I battled everyday for 4 months to get my daughter back to breastfeeding, and I succeeded. I had backaches for months from where the epidural catheter was placed… up. My husband and I lived a-sexually for 7 months while the damage to my body healed.

I was just another woman with another horrifying story.

I swore I would never have any more children, just as my Mother had never had any more children.

And then I met Rebecca Francis… a doula from Seattle.

Stay tuned for: The Birth of My Second Daughter… How I Came To Give Birth In A Bathroom.