My name is Heather, and this is my birth story:

I had been planning a home birth since day one. It took me awhile to convince Moe (my husband) that it was truly the way to go. He had some reservations, but after doing some reading, and after talking to our midwives, Gordana and Kelly, and our doula, Tara, he was reassured and in complete agreement. Sadly, I was not fated to have a home birth this time around....

At around 36 weeks, I tested positive for GBS (Group B streptococcus). That alone did not preclude me from having a home birth. Just altered the course of events. In the middle of the night on January 8th, I went for one of my nightly trips to the washroom. I discovered bloody show! “Interesting...” I thought. I knew that it wasn’t a sure sign of labour, but I knew that my days of being pregnant were certainly numbered. I did not sleep well for the rest of the night. I felt the urge to go to the bathroom about every hour! Each time there was more and more show - the plug seemed to be disintegrating. I was a little excited, but reigned my feelings in.

During the early afternoon, I noticed a lot of clear “discharge“. I didn’t feel any sensation prior to this happening, so I was unsure if it was amniotic fluid or not. I waited a bit to see if it would stop or diminish. When I was still leaking a few hours later, I paged the midwives and Gordana, who was on call, responded. She came over to do a pH test to confirm that it was amniotic fluid. Wow!! I was definitely having the baby in the next 48 hours! I can’t describe how many feelings I had. Mostly I felt a sense of surreal-ness...it was hard to process that the baby was for sure on the way.

My labour did not really get going. I began to have very mild, irregular contractions, but nothing really major. After Gordana did her assessment, I called Moe at work, and gave him an update. He came home shortly thereafter. We settled in to have our baby. I didn’t want to set up the birth pool yet, but everything else was ready! We ate supper and watched a movie. Still my contractions were nothing to write home about.

Throughout the rest of the day and evening, we were in frequent contact with Gordana. Because I was GBS+, after 8 hours of the water breaking, the midwife must do a consult with an OB/GYN. Mercifully, the OB on call said that I could labour overnight to see what transpired. Gordana came over every 4 hours to administer IV antibiotics to reduce the possibility of a GBS transmission to the baby. So, I went all night with mild, irregular contractions. Every once in awhile, the contractions became more regular, but they always petered out. I was getting antsy, wanting labour to really get going to avoid the hospital. I was able to get a fair amount of sleep. And I did lots of praying - for a healthy baby, and to stay home.

At 6 am on January 9th, Gordana did another consult (as required). This time the OB/GYN on call advised that I come in for a non-stress test. I felt defeated, and really disappointed, but consoled myself with the fact that today was definitely baby day! Gordana told us that the hospital staff would probably push for an induction/augmentation since my membranes had ruptured for 18 hours with no baby being imminent. This was far from what I had envisioned. At least, we still hadn’t bothered to set up the birth pool! Ha ha. Moe and I ran around trying to pack quickly; we didn’t have any “hospital bags” ready.

At 8:30 we were en route to the hospital, when finally contractions started to kick in. Man, that was one car ride I don’t care to repeat! My contractions were regular, and getting much stronger. I had to start using some coping techniques. We arrived at the hospital (Women's), and went to triage for the non-stress test. I was pretty uncomfortable on the monitor as contractions this time did not peter out. Baby was tolerating labour just fine, and all was well enough to get off the monitor. A resident and a doctor discussed induction/augmentation with us. They did an internal exam and discovered that I was 5 - 6 cm dilated! I was pretty impressed with that. I was now assigned my room (one of the "nice" ones), and prepared to have the another dose of antibiotics. We had called our doula Tara to come to the hospital.

The hospital staff was still recommending an augmentation (syntocinon) to get contractions in a regular pattern. This of course, eliminated my midwife as primary caregiver! Aargh!! At this point, about 10:30, my contractions were very regular (about 3-ish minutes apart) and strong. After Tara arrived, she and Moe discussed if an augmentation was really necessary. It didn’t appear to be so. Moe asked the nurse if the augmentation could be cancelled, as it was clear I was in active labour. The nurse was in complete agreement with us (she was really nice the entire time she was with us - respected our wished on all counts), so she consulted with the doctor. Doctor agreed that I didn't need the syntocinon. Yay!!! I was so relieved, as that meant I would not have to be strapped to the monitor the entire time, practically confined to the bed!! So, the midwife was back on as primary caregiver. At this point I could have gone back home, but I was in too involved with labour to contemplate a change of venue - so hospital it was.

I spent a lot of time in the shower on the birth ball; Gordana arrived when I was in there. The shower was great! Moe was in there with me, and helped direct the water onto my back, as I had a LOT of back labour. I kept expecting to get the “excruciating” pain that most women speak of, but it didn’t come. Yes, I was in pain, but I handled it well. Big thanks to Moe and Tara; who maintained the very necessary counter pressure. The baby was checked frequently and was great each time.

I spent lots of time side lying. And lots of throwing up! I usually hate barfing, but this time it felt good! I figure it happened at the peak of contractions. Ha ha. Finally, at 2:30 I was just about 10 cm. I had an anterior lip, so, with great difficulty I changed positions to get rid of it - I knelt on the bed and dangled over the back. Stayed there for what seemed like an hour. My legs were giving out; I was getting pretty tired at this point. (I checked with Tara’s notes from the birth, and I was only over the end of the bed for about 10 minutes! Ha ha, I could have sworn it was an hour!) The lip was gone right away, but I stayed there to push for a bit.

At that point the urge to push wasn't overwhelming, but it felt good to do something different. This is where I kept saying that I couldn’t go on. I was sick of working! I didn’t contemplate drugs for pain relief, I just wanted labour to stop so I could rest; go home even. Gordana suggested the gas to take the edge off, but I didn’t reply. It was too much effort to talk, but in my head I thought, “If I made it this far, why bother with the gas?” An immediate caesarean was starting to sound good however...at least that way it would be over! Ha ha.

Moe was an angel during all of labour. He kept cheering me on, and massaging/pressing on my back. It was wonderful having him take part in the birth. After pushing for a looooong time (total pushing was 2 1/2 hours), Gordana finally said that the head was visible. Birthing the head seemed to take an eternity! It was such a trip to feel it, both inside and out. I made sure that I felt it from the outside, and I could feel the baby move through my bones! So weird! After the head was out, Gordana discovered shoulder dystocia (stuck shoulders), so she kinda rotated/pulled him out, with her hands, not forceps (shudder!). Ta-daaaa! I looked down and announced the gender of our baby - a boy! Xavier Raymond Joseph Cadieux was born at 4:52 pm. 10 lbs 4 oz 22 1/2" long. Apgars were 8 and 9.

I held him on me immediately, and kept him there for about an hour, getting acquainted, and a feeding. What a miracle he was! I couldn’t believe that he was finally here! Our very own baby at last! Praise God!

I was able to cut the cord. Moe didn’t want to, but I’m glad. I really enjoyed the closure that I felt after severing the physical bond between Xavier and I. It really made my pregnancy seem over. The placenta came out shortly after - no problems. I had completely forgotten about it, so I was shocked when I felt more pressure after the Xavier was born. Ha ha ha!!! I ended up with a second-degree tear. I figure it was due to the dystocia. I was taking my time while Xavier‘s head was crowning, hoping to avoid a tear. A different nurse who had joined the room to assist with delivery was telling me to “just keep pushing”. Whatever! I kept pushing when I felt like it, i.e. with contractions. Tara really helped to keep me focused during crowning. I kept listening to her instead of the nurse. I really think that I would have had an intact perineum, but when I heard about the shoulders, I knew he had to come out pretty quick, so I just gave 'er. Oh well.

We left as soon as we could. The midwife stayed for about 2-3 hours after he was born. Tara stayed only for about an hour as we were all doing really well. She was a solid presence during labour. She gave a quiet confidence in my ability to give birth, and helped Moe help me.

1) GBS+ (no big deal, I had the antibiotics, nothing else to do but wait)

2) Shoulder dystocia (he was in perfect health, again - no big deal)

3) Big baby=increased risk of hypoglycaemia=low blood sugar (frequent feedings are the best cure, and I had a midwife on call 24/7)

I won't tirade about the parade of staff that tried to scare us with risk factors into staying (that’s a story for Moe to tell...). Suffice to say that we told them that had I been at home, we'd be dealing with the same things - big deal! None of the "issues" were life and death. I had to sign out A.M.A. (against medical advice). So, we left about 5 hours after his birth, and recovered very well at home :) :)

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Note: After having a c-section with Spencer, I wanted to have another baby so I could prove to myself that I could do it without a c-section. When I got pregnant with #2 shortly before Spencer's 1st birthday, I knew that I wanted to attempt a Vaginal Birth After C-Section (VBAC). And I was going to do it drug-free!

When I woke up at 8:30 AM on April 8, my throat was so sore and my body ached...which made sense as Spencer was getting over his cold. I must have caught it. I thought, "This would be a crappy day to have a baby."

I got up, had some toast and ovaltine, and read the paper. Around 11 AM, my stomach started to get a little upset and I felt nauseous. So I laid down on the couch. Spencer asked me to "Come play" but I really wasn't up to it, so he played on the floor next to me.

Around noon, I started to feel crampy. I had tested GBS+ at my 36 week appointment - which meant that I needed to have IV antibiotics in labour. To complicate things, I am allergic to penicillin which meant I had to take clindamyacin, which is administered 8 hours apart. So I was hoping for an 8 hour labour so I could get the required 2 doses.  My midwife, Gordana, wanted me to call her as soon as I thought I might be in labour.

I then paged Julia, my doula. I told her that I might be in labour, but that I was going to go soak in a hot bath to see if the crampiness went away. I also called Tim and gave him a heads-up (he wisely decided to come home!). My mom made me a big bowl of noodle soup, just in case it was labour so I would have lots of energy!

I got in the tub around 1 PM. The contractions were about 3 minutes apart. Pain-wise, it did not feel bad at all - I even thought it might be false labour.  Gordana got to our house around 2:15 PM. She gave me a quick internal exam and I was at 6 cm. We had agreed beforehand that I would labour at home until 6 or 7 cm - so off to the hospital we went!

Here are some belly pics that we took right before we left for the hospital. Yes, I am still smiling at this point! We got to St. B's admitting desk around 3 PM. I said I was headed to Labour & Delivery. The admissions clerk asked if I was there for a fetal assessment or a scheduled c-section. I told them neither - I was in labour! I must not have looked like it.

We met Julia at L&D triage, where the nurse tried to start an IV for my antibiotics. I think she tried about 5 different veins and missed all of them! Gordana informed me that as per St. Boniface Hospital policy, I had to have the on-call OB examine me. The OB on-call was Dr. Taylor. She examined me, told me I was at 7-8 cm, said the baby was probably going to be around the same size as Spencer, and the baby was still high. So she urged me to consider going straight to a c-section. I said, "No, I want a trial of labour." I think she silently shook her head.

My nurse, Brenda, helped me get to my room. It was now about 4:15 PM. Dr. Taylor came in and told me that she would like to break my bag of waters to see if the baby would drop. She was already poised with her little hook!! I told her no. She took it in stride and told me that she had 2 c-sections to perform, but she would visit me afterwards. So I laboured on, with Julia providing fluids, cold compresses and back and hip rubs, with Tim as back-up. I was pretty quiet and worked on relaxing between contractions. It was hard to relax with that !@#$% fetal monitor digging into my belly.

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After a nice relaxing evening at home on Friday, December 12th, 2003, Deyan & I went to bed.  Deyan had written one of his last exams that day and was looking forward to a relaxing weekend.  He had one more exam to write on Monday morning and a report due on Tuesday, but then he would be off for Christmas holidays.  My 2 due dates were December 15^th and December 19^th. 

At 4:20am, on Saturday, December 13^th, I woke up to use the bathroom. (not an unusual occurrence at this stage in my pregnancy!)  I noticed that I was having cramps, but I didn’t think too much about it since I’d been having them off and on for the past couple of weeks.  I climbed back into bed but couldn’t sleep.  I began to wonder if I might be in labour. 

I told myself not to get excited and to try to ignore these cramps because they were probably nothing, and if they were something I shouldn’t be giving them any attention yet.  But after 1 hour of this, I knew something was different.  The cramps were different and were coming in regular intervals.  They began to be uncomfortable down low in my abdomen, unlike the practice contractions which had always been felt as a tightening high under my ribs. 

~5:30am I woke Deyan up and told him I thought I might be in labour.  He was excited and began to time these ‘cramps’.  By now I was needing to breathe through them and finding it hard to get comfortable in any position.  By 6am I was sure this was it.  I still thought it might be early labour, even though these contractions were lasting more than 60 seconds and were coming every 3-4 minutes.  I didn’t want to get my hopes up yet and was reminding myself to stay open and relaxed. 

I told Dey to call Beckie, our midwife, to give her the heads up.  She could hear me working through a contraction and, after talking to me, decided she wanted to come over.  She lives very close and said that if it was still early labour she’d just sleep in the spare room.  So, that got us into gear. 

We both got out of bed and started to clear off the bed in the spare room (which was still covered with books and other stuff).  I also asked Deyan to change the shower curtains so we would have some plastic sheets to use for labour. 

I called my mom in New Brunswick, knowing she would be disappointed that she couldn’t be here (she would be arriving in 2 weeks), but also knowing that she would want to know.  She asked me lots of questions, but I had to pause every couple of minutes to breathe through contractions.  By now they were really grabbing my attention.  I could no longer walk through them and had to kneel over the chair and put the phone down to concentrate on my breathing.  This is when Beckie arrived. 

Beckie could tell I was working hard and thought it sounded like this labour may go quicker than expected.  She suggested I try the shower, which I readily agreed to.  The warm water felt good on my back, but the contractions didn’t ease at all.  She brought me the birth ball and I knelt over that for awhile.  Eventually I decided to get out and dry off.  Meanwhile, she had called Cara (the 2^nd midwife) and discovered that she was unavailable until after 1pm.  So she called another midwife just in case because things seemed to be moving along quickly.  She also told Dey to call our doulas, Tara, Sonia & Julia.  Julia would be teaching a prenatal class that day, but would come over during her breaks. 

Our doulas arrived at 8:15am and began to get the swimming pool blown up and filled.  I laboured in my bedroom for awhile, alternating from my hands and knees, to kneeling over the birth ball, to lying on my side.  I was a bit hungry and tried to eat some toast with jam.  I was drinking juice and raspberry leaf tea and powerade.  I wasn’t able to eat very much, though.  The contractions were strong and I was peeing regularly, hoping for a sign of bloody show. 

I got into the pool at 10:20am.  It was a bit cool because we’d run out of hot water, but the girls were boiling more and I was feeling rather warm anyway.  Around 11am I vomited.  I continued to feel nauseated throughout the labour, but this was the only time I actually got sick.  I kept trying to drink for energy, but really water was the only thing that didn’t make me feel sick. But I did listen to my doulas and midwife and took sips of other thing whenever they offered.  I always wanted the bucket close by, though! 

By 11:30am I was feeling discouraged that maybe there was no progress (still no sign of bloody show) and that I was just being wimpy and that this was still early labour.  I expressed this to Beckie who reassured me that although it may take longer to show itself, progress would happen and I could do it.  I got out of the pool and asked her to check me at 11:45, just to give me a boost.  I was 5cm, my cervix was very stretchy and 100% effaced in the mid position, baby was low at 0 station and the bag of waters was bulging to +1!  So, with that encouragement, I pressed on. 

I was feeling a lot of pelvic pressure, but knew it wasn’t the ‘pushing’ kind.  I liked it when Deyan rubbed my back.  Sometimes one of the doulas would do this job if Dey needed a washroom or lunch break, but otherwise he did a lot of back rubbing!  I got back into the pool at 12:25pm.  This time I felt a lot of relief in the water and was able to rest really well in between contractions.  I could feel the endorphins working!  I stayed in for just over an hour before I had to get out and pee again.  It hurt to pee, especially when the contraction would come while I was still on the pot.  I kept breathing and moaning and blowing through each one (horse lips), reminding myself to stay loose and relaxed.  (It’s funny, but even now, less than 2 weeks later, I cannot remember the pain.  I remember needing to breathe heavily and thinking ‘this one’s almost done’, but I don’t remember what feeling I was having to cause me to do this.) 

I laboured on my bed again for awhile and contractions continued to come every 2-3 minutes.  I remember lying on my left side and when the contraction would come I would think: this position isn’t working I need to change as soon as this one is over!  The next thing I knew, I would be waking up to another contraction.  I felt like I was on drugs or something!  I would fall asleep so quickly at the end of a contraction that I didn’t move!  This went on for quite awhile I think.  I expressed to Beckie, who was really present with me, ~3:30 that I was feeling tired and so much pressure.  She reassured me that progress was happening in normal time.  She checked me again (at my request) and said that I was 7-8cm. Well, realizing that I was entering transition, I thought I should just keep going, hoping my water would break soon. 

I got back into the pool ~ 4:30pm and Beckie paged the second midwife Cara to come.  I remember the pressure in my pelvis being so strong!  It was very difficult to deal with both the pressure and the cervical stretching I was feeling.  I think this is when I broke down and had a good cry.  Then, I kept going.  I reached inside to feel my cervix, but all I could feel was the bag of waters.  Cara arrived at 5:30, just as I asked Beckie to check me again and possibly break my water.  I was really feeling tired and was hoping to get a release from the pressure, at least until I was ready to push.  So, I was 8-9cm and she broke my water – which was clear.  There was lots of it!  Unfortunately, though, it didn’t relieve that pressure.  I remember saying I just wanted to start pushing!  I wasn’t feeling the urge, I was just ready to be at that stage!  I also remember saying how hard this was and that I didn’t know if I could do it.  I knew I could and that I didn’t really have any choice either way, but I still needed to express these words to someone. 

Ironically, I never once felt that I wanted drugs.  I of course knew I couldn’t have them unless I went to the hospital, which wasn’t an option for me, but I still didn’t even want them if they were available at home.  All I wanted was for someone to take the pain away or do the work for me.  Sounds funny, but that’s really how I felt.  I just wanted it to be done. 

Deyan was very steadfast throughout this time, reassuring me and holding me whenever I needed him.  I also remember at times wanting to cry “mommy”.  The words would form on my lips, but I didn’t verbalize them knowing she would see the video and it would upset her that she wasn’t here!  I got back into the pool again.  Sometime around 6pm, I had a contraction that wouldn’t go away.  It was odd, because I would feel the same ebbs and flows of cervical pain every 2-3 minutes, but in between my stomach would remain hard and painful.  I tried different positions and breathing but nothing was working.  This was very frustrating and I felt it wasn’t normal, which was a bit scary.  Beckie checked my vitals but all was well.  Eventually (after some 10 or 15 minutes) things settled down again.  Everyone thought my contractions had spaced out, but really I was just more relaxed through them.  Thank God for those endorphins again! 

By 6:20 I felt like trying to push.  I did, and it didn’t feel good or bad.  I was nervous to push too early, especially if my cervix still hadn’t finished dilating, so I didn’t push with each contraction.  I would push maybe once or twice every other contraction and breathe through the rest.  The urge wasn’t overwhelming, but there was definitely pressure there.  Baby’s heartbeat was great throughout the whole day.  In the pool, I tried lying on my side, hands and knees, kneeling over the side, squatting, semi-sitting, standing, etc.,  but the position I liked the best, especially when I was pushing, was kneeling and sitting back almost on my heels with my knees far apart (pelvis open like a squat). 

Beckie checked me in the pool at 7:30 to make sure the cervix was gone (the urge was still not overwhelming).  It was and baby was nice and low (+2 station).  I reached in after her and felt his head – my finger only went in until my knuckle so I knew he wasn’t far.  So, I continued pushing my way without any direction.  The lights were dim.  I know as things got more intense I would push hard and put my face in the water each time.  I don’t know why, it just felt like the right thing to do.  Then I would blow my air out under water and come up for more.  My hair kept falling into my face and Deyan or one of the doulas would wipe it away with a cool cloth.  I also remember feeling hungry and asked for a mandarin orange. 

I checked myself at 8:20pm and felt the baby had definitely moved down.  By 8:30, you could see his head on the outside.  So, I kept pushing!  It still didn’t feel as good as I thought it would.  It hurt!  I remember thinking as the contraction would begin that I didn’t want to push and that I was too tired.  Then I would remind myself how close I was to meeting my baby.  I would tell myself that the only way I was going to be able to see him was to push.  No one else could do this for me.  So I would take a breathe and push.  Sometimes I would have this same conversation with each contraction!  I reached down and could feel lots of the baby’s head presenting and thought that surely by the next push he would be crowning.  This process continued for + 1 hour. 

Beckie was a bit more hands-on at this point, trying to stretch my perineum as I pushed since it seemed so tight and I’d been pushing for so long with baby sitting right there.  This burned!  She said it was really tight but to keep pushing as hard as I could.  There hadn’t been much progress for ~ ½ hour.  I had tried several positions, including the ones mentioned above, plus kneeling with one foot flat on the floor of the pool (alternating sides), and sitting on the birth stool in the tub.  Finally, Beckie suggested I get out of the tub and try something different.  I couldn’t imagine what else I could try!  I kept talking to the baby, telling him how tired mommy was and that I needed him to come out now.  Beckie said maybe we could try the birth stool out of the tub.  I didn’t understand how this would make a difference, and said so.  So she said maybe I could try on the bed.  I remember thinking, “She must be crazy!”  I stood up (not sure how I found the energy for this) and said, very intensely, “I have a friggen head between my legs, I can’t walk to the bed!”  I think everyone got a good chuckle out of that. 

Realistically,  Beckie knew I wouldn’t make it to the bed, but thought the motion of getting out of the pool would release the baby’s head.  Instead, I grabbed hold of Deyan’s arms (he was standing just outside the pool) and deep squatted into the water.  I remember thinking, “I have to squat deep enough to cover his head, or not squat at all so that he is either born in or out of the water, not in between!”  Apparently, I almost pulled Deyan into the pool with me! 

That did it because with that push his forehead released.  Beckie asked someone to switch places with Deyan because he wanted to catch the baby, but he said no.  He knew that at that point I needed his support and that after such a long haul, he was happy for me that progress was happening and didn’t want to make any sudden changes.  On the next push, I felt a popping sensation and told everyone, saying that I hope it wasn’t me tearing.  But really, at that point, I just wanted him out and I figured I might need to tear a bit to get him there since I’d tried everything else possible!  His nose and cheeks were next to be born.  When Beckie said, “the head is out,” I didn’t feel intense relief.  I continued to push, although a bit more gently, to release his shoulders which quickly followed.  I then thought he was out and began to turn around when I felt his little feet inside me kicking his way out!  It was 10:24pm!  Beckie, who was hands-off as he was born, said that he actually paddled or swam his way out.  She lifted him out of the water and I quickly turned around to grab him.  I felt great! 

She carefully placed him between my legs and I sat down so she could place him on my chest.  He was gorgeous!  So bright eyed.  He didn’t cry too much, but we rubbed him and he was breathing fine.  He just kept looking around.  I talked to him and so did his daddy.  At 10:30, after peeking to see whether or not we had a boy or girl, Daddy introduced him to everyone: Simeon Daniel. 

Breastfeeding was also much more challenging than I expected.  As a doula myself, I have assisted many of my clients and knew that there could be challenges to breastfeeding.  But every time any of them had a problem it was related to either a poor latch or some kind of infection.  I didn’t have either of these, but I did have excruciating pain every time he latched and for the entire feeding!  I would curl my toes and count to whatever, just trying to breathe, as tears streamed down my face.  This lasted at this level of intensity for 2 weeks.  It is now better and only hurts when he first latches and when my milk lets down.  (He is almost 5 weeks old).  I am hoping it will continue to improve as I have really looked forward to our breastfeeding relationship. 

So, that’s our story.  By the way, did I mention that our son weighed 9lbs 2oz!  No wonder he took so long to come out!  We think he got stuck at the cheeks, they are so chubby!  None of us expected him to be so big.  I am 5’1” and weighed 7lbs 7oz at birth.  My husband is average size now and was also just over 7lbs at birth.  I gained just under 30lbs in pregnancy, and was only measuring 35cm the day before he was born at 39 weeks.  We’re still not sure where he was hiding! 

Anyways, I feel great about my birth.  It was hard work and tiring, but I did it and I would do it again.  I remember crying out for God to help me at different times, and I believe He did.  My husband was amazing, both physically and emotionally.  My doulas had been such great support during the birth both for me (encouragement and hands-on help) and for my husband and midwives (making food, helping with set up and clean up, etc.)  My midwives were great encouragers and a calming presence as well.  Both Beckie and my doulas were also super helpful in the early postpartum period when I was having such a hard time! They called everyone they could think of and researched all the books to come up with ideas to help me.  They also brought me herbs and food and stuff so I could rest and took calls from me at any time.  Thank you Julia, Tara and Sonia, Beckie & Cara!  I am so happy to be experiencing motherhood finally, after being around so many other wonderful moms!

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Hi All,

Magnus was born August 26th after a drug-free labour with a midwife at St. B. (Okay, I confess, I had a little gas at one point, but I found that it only served to muffle my screams!!)

I changed from an ob/gyn with whom I was extremely dissatisfied to a midwife at 30 weeks. I was extremely fortunate to have Gordana from Health Action Centre take me on, and from then on, I felt very positive and happy with my care - I'm a "relationship" person and I certainly got that with Gordana, for all her quirks. I was hell bent on an intervention-free labour - after making the switch from doc to midwife, I was determined that she would deliver the baby.

On Sunday, August 24th, at 3:30 a.m. or so, my water broke but I had no contractions until about 24 hours later (after Gordana stripped my membranes at home).  My contractions were 5 minutes apart from beginning to end. I went to St. B at about noon on the 25th at about 5 cm and waited 3 hours in triage as they wouldn't admit me into an LDRP room until Gordana showed up. Once we got the room, I sat down on the bed and SPLASH! my water really broke (I guess part of the bag had broken, but being a first time mom, I thought it was the whole thing - little did I know it would fill my shoes!!)

From then on my contractions, although still 5 minutes apart, became much more intense and I entered "labour land" - I do remember many things about the next 14 hours pretty vivdly though: sobbing over the Nick Drake cd we were playing (it's pretty melancholy music, but in the
middle of labour it seemed SO sad!); laughing in the middle of a contraction at the song on the radio called "How Long Has This Been Going On?" and Gordana looking at me like I had lost it; finally making some real progress after pushing for a couple of hours and thinking at 4 a.m. "This is it! The baby is going to be born!!" and thinking the same thing at 5 a.m., 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. as I became more and more exhausted.

Luckily, Gordana and the nurse who came in at about 4 a.m. when we all thought a delivery was imminent were very calm and quiet. I did my own pushing as I needed to- nobody shouting or yelling at me to PUSH!

Finally, Gordana called in Dr. Seager, who I remember very clearly saying one word: "Cut!" I had completely forgotten about episiotomy: I thought I was going to have to have a forceps delivery. I told Gordana it was okay and she made the cut, and BOOM (okay, not the right  word...) Magnus' head was out. I remember waiting for a sec and then asking, "Can I push him out???" When he was born, the first person who said anything was Dr. S who exclaimed quite loudly, "It's a baby ... something" - I looked at my husband in a panic, who was a quiet and
considerate support throughout, who told me that we had a boy. Thus Magnus was born - 7 lbs. 10 oz, 21 3/4 inches long.

I know this is practically a novel, but I just remembered that my mom phoned the room
at about ten after 7 -  about 5 minutes before the birth. I recall my husband saying, "Uh, it's not a good time right now!")

Anyway, that's my birth story - wow, it's practically as long as my labour was! Thanks for reading.

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I was feeling very very very pregnant already in December 2003, so by our due date of January 10th, 2004 I was sick of waiting for the contractions to start.  The baby was only a week "late" - I know they come on their own time, and due dates are not by any means set in stone - but why didn't he come earlier than predicted like so many do?  We were so sick of everyone on the planet asking, "Haven't you had that baby yet?".  Even while we were sitting in the waiting room at the obstetrician for our week 41 appointment we received a call on my husband's cell from Kelowna asking - "So?"  We had already decided that we wouldn't even talk about inducement until at least week 42 and the doctor was fine with that, so all we were hoping for at the appointment was that the doctor might tell me that the nearly constant practice contractions that I had been having had maybe dilated my cervix a little.  The doctor stripped the membranes during that appointment (Friday morning) giving us some hope that we might have the baby over the weekend.

No luck on Friday, but when I got out of bed on Saturday I knew that this was the day and told Evan so.  So we decided to make a day of it.  We went out for some shopping and a long 2-3 hour lunch.  When we got home and I lay down for my nap at about 6PM the contractions started.  Funny, but everyone tells you that you’ll know when the contractions are “real” and you just don’t believe it because some of the practice contractions are so intense.  But it’s true – you know.  I continued resting until about 7:30PM when I figured I wasn’t going to sleep anyway and a warm lavender bath would be just what I needed.  When I came down and told Evan that labour had started about an hour and a half ago he was shocked that I hadn’t told him right away.  We started timing while in the tub, just to see where we were at, and even though the contractions were less than 3 minutes apart they weren’t too intense and didn’t last for more than 20 seconds.  I was doing fine.  After my bath I spoke to our doula, Sonia, to tell her to rest up because tonight was the night but that it was early going and we would call her in a bit when we needed her. 

Well, within half an hour I couldn’t stand it anymore.  The pain was incredible and the contractions were continuing to come less than 3 minutes apart even though they weren’t lasting longer than 30 seconds.  The frequency and now the intensity were killing me, as I wasn’t getting a break in between to catch my breath.  My husband called Sonia and told her to head over, and that if we left for the hospital before she got here we would call her cell.  My husband dressed me while I started getting into my groove as far as coping with the pain.  We had soft candlelight and Bach playing in the living room so I was waiting in there when Sonia arrived at 10:30PM or so.  Thank God for her.   At that time I was so very ready to rush to the hospital.  My greeting was “This really @#&! hurts.”   She nodded.  She helped us stay at home, where I was so much more comfortable, for another three hours until the contractions lengthened to at least 40 seconds in duration.  She was steady, calm, encouraging and enhanced my own ability to cope with the pain.

It was forty million degrees below zero that night.  I can hardly believe that I actually remember the car ride and being admitted to Women’s Hospital.  I had absolutely no patience for the admittance process and triage, except that I was encouraged by being told that I was already 5 cm “and cooking”.  The rest of it all seems like such a blur.  Although when I say, “Gee it didn’t seem like 18 hours of labour”, my husband looks me straight in the eye and says “Oh yes, it did.” 

Sonia was a rock, although not hard, solid but accommodating - sandstone.  Like she helped us stay at home as long as possible, she helped us avoid any medical pain intervention until over three quarters of the way through.  Evan said there is no way a husband can refuse his wife when she demands an epidural so he would look at Sonia and she would be right there to offer other options and support and encouragement for what how I was already coping.  Our RN was also fabulous in this way; she respected our birth plan, and persistently encouraged options to an epidural.  The one thing that really, really worked was warm water.  Evan and I were in the shower for over an hour, with all of the warm therapeutic water running over me.  I wasn’t sharing a drop with Evan - I was in labour, damn it.  He says that even though he rides his bike all winter, he has never been as cold as he was in that shower. 

By early morning I really, really could not take it anymore – transition time with contractions right on top of one another.  I insisted on being prepped for an epidural.  I agreed to try nitrous oxide first but it wasn’t enough to get me through.  When I was told I was 8 cm – to me it meant “only” 8 cm.  I overrode all of my support team, Evan, Sonia and Sabina (RN,) and had them bring in the anaesthesiologist.  One thing I have to discouragingly note was how keen on epidurals all the MDs were.  I was seeing this option as a last resort and they all acted like, only a crazy woman wouldn’t have one and only an idiot would wait as long as I did.  I am so glad I hung on as long as I did – but couldn’t have done so without my husband, doula and nurse.  Because, by the time I had the epidural, it was almost time to push.  So one of the things I was really afraid of – an epidural prolonging or stalling labour didn’t happen.  There was just enough time for a short break for Evan and Sonia to have breakfast.

Our new (shift change) RN, Sharon, was also fantastic.  She too wholly respected our birth plan.  So she cut the anaesthetic from the epidural by half so I could better feel the contractions to help with pushing.  Two hours of pushing – again it didn’t seem like two hours to me – to Oscar Lopez with everyone in the room dancing and smiling and joking the whole time.  Staff were coming in an out of our room like it was the “dorm room” with the best party on the whole floor.  Sharon had gone for a break but wanted to be called back for the birth so Sonia said, “Let’s make it a short break” and we did.  The OB/GYN didn’t even make it.  Riley Mitchell was delivered at 12:21P M Sunday January 18th 2004 – 18 hours after it all began - by Sharon, the nurse, and Ravi, the resident. 

Relief!		Evan Meets His Son

I had never felt really connected to Riley the whole time I was carrying him, but the second he came out I was so happy and so incredibly thrilled to meet him.  Within 20 minutes I said out loud I would definitely have another one, making everyone laugh and say it must be some kind of record for a women having just given birth to say she’d do it all over again. 

My son was born by cesarean delivery at 9:13 pm, February 27, 2003.  The events leading up to his birth were emotionally charged, and for a lot of my pregnancy I felt pretty lost.

I have insulin-dependant diabetes, and have since I was 5 years old.  When we got pregnant, there were some worries about how it would affect my body, and how it would affect our child.  For the most part I was blissed out that I was finally pregnant, being a pregnancy junkie, and an aspiring doula, I was so excited to be having this experience for myself!  The diabetes however presented more of a challenge than any aches, pains, or nausea (I had 2 days of feeling “off”!) would throughout the entire pregnancy. 

I knew right away that I wanted a doula, and Sonia was the only person that came to my mind.  I had met her six years earlier at our first doula training, and had felt a strong connection with her.  Fortunately she was able to take me on, and did an amazing job supporting us throughout the pregnancy, delivery and post-partum.  It took a while for my husband, Robert, to accept her as our support, and some Birth Roots Pre-natal Classes, but he got to know her well, and appreciated her greatly.

Because I was classified high-risk, I was going for weekly fetal assessments from my 30^th week on.  (Maybe earlier, I remember going to a lot of them!)  Everything seemed to be going well until the 3^rd assessment in a two week period, suggested that our baby was no longer thriving.  I too seemed to be having more difficulty keeping my sugars balanced, and was having quite a few dangerous dips of low blood sugar.  At this time too, I went from a glowing, happy maman, to looking really drawn and sick.  I was exhausted, and couldn’t really carry our baby any more.

The doctor that works in the fetal assessment department suggested that I see my doctor right away.  Since I had an appointment with my endocrinologist, pretty much a standing weekly one,  he said that was fine.  She took one look at me, and asked if I would be ready to be admitted to the antepartum ward in the hospital that afternoon.  I cried and said yes.  Relief?  Sorrow?  Both, I’d say.  I had wanted so much more for us, but I couldn’t do it any more.  My husband was tired of going to sleep scared he would have to fight me in the midst of a very dangerous low blood sugar in the night.  It was time for someone else to look after us.

I spent Wednesday getting comfortable in the hospital, settling in for the long haul.  I was only 34 weeks, so I thought they would stabilize me, give me gross hospital food in measly portions and I could just read or watch TV all day long.  That wasn’t to be.  Over the course of that day and over night, I had more low blood sugars.  The danger of a low blood sugar is that as your sugar is returning to normal, the baby is still low.  It affects the baby for a way longer time period, and the risk of late pregnancy miscarriage because of this is extremely high for diabetic moms.  On Thursday afternoon, they started making “suggestions”, later they were trying harder to convince me to make a decision.

I tried to get a hold of my husband who was working three hours away that day, and told him, they wanted to do a C-section.  I called Sonia, and the two of them arrived at the same time.  I kept telling the doctors, “you can’t do anything until my husband gets here!”  I was fortunate that through this intense afternoon, my grandmother, who I am very close to, was with me.

I spoke with all the doctors, anesthesiologist, nurses prepped me.  It was funny, I had just had a bikini wax the day before, there wasn’t much to shave, but they did it anyway.   Sonia stepped up and told the anesthesiologist that I wanted her there, and he said yes, that wouldn’t be a problem.  He was very nice, Dr. Peters.  I don’t know why I lost my voice that day, it was all so overwhelming, but I was so happy that I had Sonia’s support.  She helped make my experience a bit more “normal” and warm.  This was still my baby’s birthday!

They wheeled me to the operating room where I waited, alone, for my spinal.  That was the worst part.  I didn’t know that I was going to be separated from my support people, even if just for half an hour.  It was long, and I cried, silently.  The surgical nurses noticed, and asked me if I was okay, I nodded, and said, “I just didn’t think it was going to be this way.”

The surgery itself wasn’t bad.  I was really cold.  I didn’t feel the “pressure” they tell you about, or pulling or anything.  Rob was on my left side, Sonia was on my right.  I could see something in the reflection of the light, but even though I’m the kind of person who watches a “Trauma” marathon, I didn’t really want to see my own.  Thinking back, I wish I had seen him come out.  I think I had my eyes closed, praying for him to be okay.

Rob and Sonia watched him be born, they suctioned him, and he cried.  Then everyone cried.  Rob went with Paul’hiver, and Sonia supported me while I was being repaired.

In recovery, the nurse brought Paul’hiver to me, so I could try to nurse him.  I became sick and threw up a bunch of times, finally at 4 in the morning, they took me to the wrong room and kicked Rob out.  I was pretty upset, no baby, no husband, just give me some drugs.  Early recovery was difficult, but the next morning, we started on an amazing journey of learning how to be parents of our beautiful boy.

Even though he was 34 weeks, he was reassessed at 36.  His lungs were mature, and the only reflex he was a little slow on was the breathe-suck-swallow reflex.  One doctor suggested to me that the fact my sugars were less than perfect actually spurred him to mature earlier.  They kept him in the NICU for 10 days, to watch his weight gain, and teach him to drink at a bottle.  The breastfeeding story is another 3 pages…  (We did succeed though!)

My mother was my post-partum doula, she came into the city every day for a month once we finally got him home, and I wouldn’t have survived the whole nursing-bottlefeeding-pumping experience without her. 

My son is now 15 ½ months old and an absolute joy.  Even though my experience was less than ideal, I feel fortunate that I am able to identify with women who have gone through the same thing, and can help those women who have fears about cesareans.  Every birth I experience teaches me something.  My son’s birth taught me that it doesn’t matter how they come so much as it matters who they are when they get here.

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Do you want to share your birth story?  We would love to include it.  Please email it to us, along with any photos. 

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