Fynn’s Birth story – 3rd of February 2012
Sometime in the night from the 2nd to the 3rd of February, I started feeling light rushes, regular enough to know I had rushes.
Early on in the morning I mentioned to Alastair that I think the baby will be coming soon, the rushes then slowed down. I asked Alastair to go shopping in the morning as I was assuming everything would take much longer and I planned to make chicken soup that day while still being at the early stage of labour. He suggested to first pump up the birth pool and prepare everything before doing any shopping but I felt that was not necessary and I encouraged him to go first.
Very soon after, I felt the rushes regularly again every 8 to 5 minutes for about 60 seconds. While Alastair was gone the intensity of my rushes increased, and I could only stay in bed and lie on my side, breathing through each rush and resting in between. I had the strong urge to wanting to empty my bowels but my attempt to go to the bathroom, ended with terrible jittery knees, hardly able to stand on my feet and feeling increasingly desperate, being no longer in control of my body and on my own.
I was tempted to call the Doula and midwife but decided to wait till Al was back, also because I felt I had difficulties talking by then already.
The doula and finally the midwife arrived around noon and late noon. I couldn’t leave bed the whole time as the rushes were so frequent and didn’t allow me to take much rest.
After a strong urge to push during a rush my waters broke with a big splash and high pressure it seemed. Opening the duvet and seeing the scale of it all, we also noticed the myconium and got alarmed. The baby’s heart rate was fine, nevertheless the midwife felt the need to call the ambulance and not knowing the risks entirely Al agreed to the transferral.
While the midwife was out of the room arranging things, I took a chance and with newly gained strengths went to the bathroom to sit in the bath tub half filled with warm water.
The bathroom was warm, steamy, and candle lit; A totally different atmosphere from the bright bedroom, which was immersed in daylight.
Being on my own – or at least I felt like it, even tough I got to learn later that Al was with me the entire time – I sank into my body, went underwater and soaked it all in. It felt great. I relaxed and returned to calm breathing during rushes, different comforting positions while turning increasingly inward.
I remember at some point, standing on my feet again in full length and in an embrace with Al swaying side to side with Al, feeling relaxed and ready to give birth.
Just in that moment of peace and calm, the doula came in with clothes asking me to get dressed, as the ambulance would be arriving shortly. I nodded but somewhere inside I wasn’t going to leave my peaceful sanctuary and could not imagine leaving. Shortly after I felt the urge to push and I started squatting down holding on to the bath tub.
The midwife came in and tried to find out what feeling of pushing it was and after not receiving any coherent answer I suppose, decided I should try pushing but back in my bedroom as the baby should not come in the bath tub.
Back in my bedroom I bent forward, being on all fours and leaning over a pregnancy or gym ball. The midwife gave instruction when to push and when to hold and not long after at 2:40 pm the little baby was born into the hands of the midwife. After rubbing him with a towel to help him breath on his own, he was given to me naked as he was to hold and put to the breast. I leaned back into Al’s arms behind me supporting my back and with some help from the second midwife, who just arrived after the baby was born, the little baby latched on and started suckling on the breast.