Felcetera

Saturday 5th Sept: Birth Day minus 1 

I was counting down. Only eight days to go until my due date on 13th Sept 2015. I had this feeling my bubba would be born on 14 Sept, to coincide with my dad’s 65th birthday. I jam packed my last week and wanted to fit as much in as possible before I popped. Just this week, I had posed nude for a life drawing class, attended my regular aqua aerobics session, and this day was no different. I was attending a photoshoot for my best friend’s 1 year old son, and celebrating a joint Father’s Day / dad’s birthday with the family at night where I had baked a spectacular cake.

That day, I noticed my pelvic bone was quite sore, more than usual. I thought nothing of it, another one of those pregnancy pains I took in my stride. I made a mental note to go swimming tomorrow to help alleviate the pain.

The celebrations for dad ended around 11pm, I bid farewell to the guests and headed to bed. I was knackered.

Sunday 6th September – Birth Day

It was 1am and I woke up with stomach cramps and pelvic pain. I had been getting these pains on and off the past few weeks so thought nothing of these. Sat on the toilet for a while thinking it would pass and went back to bed, hoping to get some sleep.

Half hour later, I woke up again, with the same pain. Like a mad woman thinking the same process would produce different outcomes, again, I went to the bathroom and hoped it’ll pass. Then bed and tried to sleep. This went on for a few hours: alternating between sitting on the toilet and taking showers which alleviated the pain the most. At 4am, I messaged my best friend and said I think I was having Braxton Hicks Contractions, they didn’t feel strong enough to be real contractions (what are real contractions anyway?). She messaged back at 6am saying yes, it’s hard to tell, try to get some rest.

By 8am, I had enough. I called the hospital and said I’d been having contractions which weren’t that bad. They asked about the bubba and if I’d felt it move that night. What bubba? In the midst of all those stomach cramps, I’d forgotten to even notice her moments and had not felt any kicks.

So I was told to go to hospital to make sure bubba was fine. I arrived at hospital around 9am, fully expecting to be sent home. I didn’t even bring my hospital bag or Tens machine (which lazed in my bedroom unused). After doing all the usual checks and confirming bubba was a-ok, they prepared to do an internal exam with the nurse saying, “oh I think you’ll only be about 3-4cm dilated and you’ll go home and come back later”. Nope, lo and behold, I’m one of those people who was 7cm dilated and had no real signs and still looked relatively ‘normal’.

Was sent to the birth unit straightaway and asked to stay there. Frantically I called my doula, the cord blood collection people, asked my parents to go home and grab my hospital bag and messaged my closest friends to tell them what’s going on. It was midday by this time, by my rough calcs, normally it takes 1 hour for 1/2 cm dilation so I expected her to arrive in the world by about 6pm.

My original birth plan was simple: water immersion, gas, pethidine and epidural. In that order.  I wanted a natural birth. If my grandmother can give birth to eight children with no advanced medicine, I can definitely do this. I am woman, hear me roar.

From about midday to 2pm: In the bath water I go. Honestly contractions in the bath was not that interesting. It felt nice to be in the bath and all that but I couldn’t really find a good comfortable position, and sitting whilst contracting is just painful. I would’ve preferred to have a shower, as I can stand and lean against a wall, but the hospital didn’t have large shower jets which were hot enough. After an hour or so in the bath, I decided to get out and go back to the birthing room.

In the birthing room, I turned up the radio, dimmed the lights and tried to just have a zen birthing experience. Alternating between standing and kneeling on all fours, (sitting was too painful), the contractions became closer and closer together. After about 2 hours, I asked for the gas. Bubba was not coming out without some form of pain relief.
Gas was a godsend, as was my doula Sam. She held my hand and encouraged me through the entire birthing process. She laboured with me and it felt great knowing someone was cheering me on.  There was no way I could’ve done it without her.

The gas really took an edge off the pain, breathing it helped me with the contractions and I felt almost no pain at all. The doctors came to check me and told me I was fully dilated by about 5pm. The midwives said to me that if I felt the urge to push, I should. So I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. They wanted me to push without the gas so there goes the pain relief. At each push, the doctors checked bubba’s heartbeat with a doppler. Always the same response: she was oh so happy the entire time. A catheter was introduced to ease the urine out and have no blockages for her to traverse down. My waters broke in spectacular fashion as I was standing and leaning against the bed. I was so surprised when a big gush of water ‘popped’ all over my feet like a balloon!

I asked for some stronger painkillers then, but it was too late. I asked myself why oh why did I choose this natural birth malarkey? Give me the pain free and fast option next time. The outcome is still the same. Bubba score!

Another check by the doctor said I had another small membrane of water blocking the bubba coming down and also needed to pushed out. I had been pushing for over 2 hours and in between poops and water (and blood) coming out, she was just so happy inside and wouldn’t come out! I was pretty much over it by then. If I counted the hours from my first contractions at 1am to then, I had been trying to birth her for about 19 hours. In hospital, I was there for just 10 hours. My little membrane of water popped. The doctors came again and did another internal and wanted to help assist with delivering her as I’d been pushing for so long. I said yes please, it’s about time!

They suggested a vacuum extraction to guide her out, so had to make a cut to my perineum. Fine, I was too conked out to care. By this time, the dimmed lights were changed to bright fluoro, radio turned off and about a dozen people suddenly flooded into room. I was told there would be a nurse to ‘catch’ her when she comes. I had a sudden image of her flying across the room like a football.

In my semi comatose state, local anesthetic was given for the perineum area, the cut was made, vacuumed inserted on my bubba’s head to guide her way around my spine. I pushed once, nothing happened. My next push, everyone said, “her head is out!” Yay. About bloody time. And the next push, she was out and was put on my chest in all her gooey glory. (Good job by the bubba-catching nurse!)

She cried and cried. Poor little bubba, so shocked at the world. Staring at the lights and me. She must’ve been thinking, “what on earth is this?” I was in shock and was glad it was all over.  Took me a while to give her a kiss and cuddle. Afterwards, nurses asked me to breastfeed her. She latched on straight away like a hungry wolf, gulping down as much colostrum as I could produce. Which was incidentally quite a lot. It’s so amazing to think, just minutes into the world and she has great survival instincts. What I know of my daughter is this: it might have taken her a while to come out. She was stubborn and too happy enjoying the moment she had inside of me. Yet, once exposed into the world, she was scared but curious to know what’s out here. Well, there’s plenty of time for that my little bubba.

Like mother like daughter.

The Aftermath 

Samara Naledi En-Hui Lim came into this world on 6 September 2015, at 2055 AEST, weighing 3.150kg, 50cm long, head circumference 33cm. Hospital labour was 11 hours, labour from time of first contraction was 20 hours.

I was in a state of shock after my daughter was born. My whole body was shaking and I couldn’t be still. The doctors stitched me up, whilst the nurses and crew cleaned up. The room looked like a tornado: I could see blood soaked sheets, blood on the floor, bright fluoro lights and dozens of people rushing around. Someone gave me scissors to cut her cord, it was a beautiful moment.

In the end, I lost 1750ml of blood, was borderline for a blood transfusion. Was given 3litres of IV drip instead. After a sponge bath, I was told to rest. The nurses expressed some colostrum from my breasts and took Samara to the nursery whilst I slept. I was woken up at around 4am to give my bubba a cuddle. She was divine.

I was feeling quite dizzy and sore the next day. All I wanted to do was sleep and yet I had a new bubba to take care of. A few visitors came and went, they made their visits quick which were lovely. My bubba fed and slept mostly. My first night with her, I felt anxious I might not be able to fill her needs. She went on a feeding frenzy on my breasts, and rested for 5 hours afterwards. Crazy. I thought to myself how on earth would I survive breastfeeding like this?

Was discharged from hospital on Day 2. Blood count was 85, still no blood transfusion because apparently I looked alert and fine (even though I could barely walk to the hospital corridor without feeling faint). Attended physio classes where they reiterated the importance of pelvic floor exercises. I couldn’t imagine doing them with all the pain I had. Hemorrhoids were massive and I could barely sit. It was agony. Sitting to breastfeed her was a weird combo of pain and joy.

Going home on day 2 was tough. Samara was very unsettled, I was still only producing colostrum and was up all night feeding her and yet she would wail and wail. My parents were on my case about formula top ups which I frankly refused. I want to breastfeed her and that’s that. But her persistent crying just wouldn’t stop and it was a nightmare for everyone. I didn’t sleep that night.

The midwives visited on day 3, told me about baby blues and what it’ll be like when my milk comes in. They said my breast milk should come on Day 4, it still didn’t. I caved and bought some formula for standby, just in case. She continued to wail and wail. My mum gave her some formula and she slept. Thank God.

Milk finally came on day 5. Along with the baby blues. Had a nice old cry about how I was going to cope with her. The breast milk was a miracle cure, all of a sudden, she was sleepy and settled. She stopped wailing at the top of her lungs. She became an angel.

It’s day 14 now and we are still learning about each other. No two days are the same. She’s mostly happy and settled in between some bouts of crying and curiosity. She loves to feed and has strong bones; she can already almost turn side to side and hold her head up. She’s going to be a feisty and strong one!

Samara is a true blessing, she is a beautiful gift from God and I’ll do anything for her. She’s my gorgeous little star and I pray for God to protect and keep her safe always.