The Birth of Rhett James: A Rural Hospital Birth

I fell pregnant easily with Rhett. It was about a month after my husband and I were married and we were determined to fall pregnant quickly.  I am writing this story now as Rhett’s 3rd birthday approaches us in less than two weeks away.  How quickly time goes.

Pregnancy was relatively easy for me.  I had the usual aches and pains, but nothing to complain too much about!  I had wanted to birth at home, but my husband thought that I’d be better going to a hospital in case I needed medical analgesia.  In hindsight, what a terrible reason to base my choice on and a very naive reason at that! But my hospital experience was a good one.  I birthed in the hospital where I worked so it was homely to me as I spent the biggest part of my life there anyway.  I choose to have my antenatal care under one of the local GP/obstetricians.  We spaced out appointments a bit more as I was happy just doing my own antenatal cares.  I had told him my birth plan was not to have him involved in the birth whatsoever. In fact, I didn’t want him there at all.  I insisted that birth was midwives work and his surgical skills would not be needed!  He was happy with my choice.  Again, hindsight is a great thing, but I wonder now why I just didn’t see the midwives at the hospital clinic? Perhaps I wouldn’t have exposed my son to the dangers of two unnecessary ultrasounds and one for foetal morphology.

My birth team was to be my mum (who lived 3 hours away) and my husband.  Mum used to come down to visit me regularly to come to antenatal appointments with me since the drive was 3 hour’s return.  I was much too tired in the later stages of pregnancy to handle that much driving by myself.  On one of these visits, I was roughly  41 weeks pregnant.  We joked around with the idea of castor oil to get me into labour so that we knew mum could be there to help support us.  I took 2 or 3 large doses of it, OH! It was the most vile thing that I have ever put in my mouth. YUCK! But it must have worked.  About three hours later, I went into labour.  It wasn’t like the gentle build-up of contractions that gradually got stronger and longer, and more regular they were long and strong.  I got into the shower at home to see if they would calm down before I decided to make the 1.5 hour journey to Biloela.  I didn’t’ want a second trip over there that day, especially for a false labour.  They didn’t subside so I soon rang the hospital to forewarn them that I was coming in.  

Now, Banana Shire has a reputation of poor road maintenance.  There are pot holes that could basically lead to China if you fell into one, and bumps that are as big as Mt. Everest.  Well that’s what it felt like in labour anyway.  The last 20 minutes was intolerable and all I needed to do was to be upright.  We spend up a bit, my husband eagerly awaited the police to pull him over, because he wanted the excuse, “…but my wife’s having a baby!!…” . I suppose we got to the hospital at around 11pm or there about.  

All the midwives that I knew, well at least a good portion of them, were also on maternity leave, so the midwife on duty, I had never met.  This made me feel very vulnerable.  She was really polite and introduced herself to me at the door of the hospital.  I told her that I was going to get into the shower now!  I must have been rude, but didn’t mean to be, I just knew what I wanted, and didn’t really care for what usual practices were.  I walked myself down to the “labour room” and started getting undressed.  The poor midwife stood very close and was asking me questions, which I really wasn’t in the mood for answering.  So I said.., “now the baby isn’t to have any injections, and I am going to have a physiological third stage of labour, and right now, I just want to get into the shower!!” Umm, in hindsight, yes I was a little bossy.  But the midwife just went along with my needs and didn’t interfere with what I needed to do. 

I was terribly comfortable leaning on all fours and literally got stuck there for the duration of the 6 hour labour.  I remember getting a bit of diarrhoea for a while, that darned castor oil!!  My details are a little sketchy now, but I remember mum and my husband telling me that it was OK to use gas or pethidine, when I started vocalising through contractions.  I used the gas, which I never used properly, and mostly just threw it away.  It didn’t help anyway, but the way it made me breathe did help.  Breathing is the key to eliminating those pains I have learnt.  

The air conditioning wasn’t working well that night, and the room was freezing cold.  My half wet support people were frozen solid.  I decided to get out of the lovely warm shower and go into the main room and onto the floor so I could again, but on my hands and knees.  I found leaning over mum was the best way for me.  The birth ball was much larger than the one I had at home and not nearly as comfortable.  It wasn’t long before I could feel the baby’s head emerging into my vagina.  This stage took forever though.  On some level I know I was fighting this intense feeling, it felt like a huge bolder in my vagina which was having a long and slow decent.  

At one point we discussed having the doctor here, but as my doctor was away the relieving doctor had to be notified.  I told the midwives that under no circumstances that he was to come into the birthing room.  But he didn’t listen and he turned up in the room.  Here I was naked head down, bum up so to speak and I told him that he was to wait outside and that I didn’t want him in here watching me or distracting me from the “other world” that I was in. He had a temper tantrum and left the hospital and didn’t come back to see me or the baby. Oh well!  But it did mean that I had to wait until my doctor come back from leave before I could go.  So on the third day, I left, so much for leaving the next day.

Rhett was birthed with me on hands and knees position on the floor.  His cord was cut a little earlier than I expected, though the midwife did ask my permission to clamp and cut before she did it. I don’t think that it had finished pulsating, or not quite anyway.  My husband and my mum announced the sex.. A boy!! I sobbed and sobbed with tears of joy and relief that it was over.  They passed him through to me and I held him close and admired his beauty.  He was perfect!  I soon moved onto the bed and tried feeding him.  The placenta came away about an hour later.  Controlled cord traction was used.  Now I know a bit more about birth, I wouldn’t have allowed that, but thankfully, it caused no problems.  And after all, it was still a physiological third stage.

I did have to encourage Rhett to feed at first.  He didn’t open his mouth very well.  I also had undiagnosed celiac disease which was discovered when Rhett was about 9 months.  I had a very low supply because of this.  However, he never had formula, or solids before 6 months, I just continued to breastfeed him about 20 hours a day for virtually a year, then he was still feeding 2-3 hourly until he was about 2 years old.  Hard work, and it took lots of dedication, but today I am still breastfeeding him at 3 years of age together with his little sister Kaede`.  

The journey for me was a very special one. My journey into mother hood has been life changing, challenging but most of all rewarding.  I believe my birth experience was a good one because I engaged the care of midwives, the specialists in normal pregnancy and birth.  For this I am most thankful because it made this transition a gentle, pleasant and amazing journey for both myself but also my husband.

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