Julie's powerful birth

There is a wild west coast beach in New Zealand, much loved by surfers, where waves pound the black sand dunes.  Life-savers patrol the area because with the bliss and adventure comes danger. I once pitted my teenage naivety against the powerful waves and got caught in the under-tow.  Again and again the waves crashed over me, tossing me until I could not tell which way was up.  I fought for my life and when I finally felt sand under my feet again, nearly fainted with relief.  I had just enough strength to drag myself up the beach where I collapsed like one of the jellyfish.

Nearly 15 years later, I was again walking down this same stretch of coast, hot black sand between my toes.  I was 40 weeks pregnant and walking in the hot summer sun with my two baby girls, aged 4 and 2, waiting for labour to start with this next new little baby.

Her waters broke that evening.  Gentle squeezes happened about every 20 minutes overnight.  My midwife arrived and noted the presence of light meconium in the liquor, if you looked really hard.  She wanted me to transfer to hospital for the usual management of broken waters and meconium in a full-term baby.  She told me that my uterus was "not working" and that I needed IV antibiotics, a synto drip, and an epidural if I couldn't handle the pain, and a caesarean if I was unable to push my baby out.

Now, my uterus had already pushed out two babies just fine thank you very much.  My first was born at home after 24 hours of gradually increasing labour.  The second was born after a few hours of squeezes so gentle that I was not convinced I was really in labour - and she was born in a shopping mall.  Yes that's right.  It was not until I hit the floor on all fours in the food court that I finally got the hint that this was not the early stages of labour - this was the END of labour and I was minutes from giving birth!  We made it to the baby care room and I gave birth in a breast-feeding cubicle.  We had prayed for a short, easy birth and that is what happened.  The midwife later wrote in her notes that the birth was 'precipitate' and that I was "shocked".  Oh no I was not.  I was thrilled and ecstatic.  I was on a total high!  Amazing that even after such an effective and easy birth (great improvement on 24 hours, I thought) and with me so obviously thrilled and excited, they still found a way to put a negative spin on a fantastic event.  Watch for this next time a woman gives birth in the car, the driveway, the bathroom.  It is usually not praised as a fantastic job done by a capable woman - but as a near disaster.  How we love to defame birth and denigrate the capabilities of birthing women.

Well, despite pressure from the midwife, we stayed home.  This was at 16 hours post SROM.  Her hospital protocols deemed that at 18 hours post SROM, I should be on IV antibiotics.  We figured we still had 2 hours left - so we negotiated to be allowed to stay home and try to get into active labour within those two hours.

The midwife left the home, and we said a prayer that my body would pick up and go into active labour - and that our baby would be born quickly and safely.  Then we went outside and walked.  I walked between contractions, and spiraled my hips during each one.  I was pleased as they began to get stronger, and longer, and closer together.  Yes! My "broken" uterus was kicking ass, as I knew it could!  Far from being apprehensive about the possibility of pain, I was delighted with the increasing power and intensity.

I got to the part when I instinctively dropped on all fours on the grass.  This signaled to me that I was fully dilated, or close to it.  I told my team to call the midwife back.  I went inside and situated myself kneeling into the couch.  I needed to feel anchored.  The contractions were awesome now.  I did not feel pain - but the intensity!  I have never done drugs but I'm sure I was totally tripping out on huge rushes of oxytocin and endorphins!  These were whole-body, brain-frying contractions.  I had no awareness of pain, but the hormones were sure acting like mind-altering substances.  I felt like saying, "Wowwwww!" like people do when they watch fireworks!  Then I realised what this was like - the raw surges of power, sweeping over me, tossing me about until I did not know which way was up - holding on for dear life, needing that anchor, to feel firm earth beneath my feet - well actually, my knees this time.  It was like being wave-tossed at that wild beach at Muriwai.  I could almost taste the salt.  I felt the wildness and the primal power of birth.  I felt myself as creature, as a created being, as a being who was wild and free.  The word ecstasy did not occur to me, but I was certainly in awe - and it was fun!

I could feel my baby pushing through and I could feel her vitality.  The midwife arrived just before she crowned and her first words were negative - "Oh, just LOOK at all the meconium!"  Her heartbeat was fine and when she was born, her Apgars were perfect.  She was born 10 minutes before the arbitrary 18-hour deadline since SROM.  The tone of the midwife put a damper on the overall birth experience for us.  I realised too late that although she was attending our homebirth, she was a hospital-based midwife and not a fan of homebirth, and in the mind-set of following the obstetric management of birth.  Even though I did not choose my midwife wisely, and suffered the consequences of not being a more canny consumer; nevertheless, the experience of walking in the hot sun, over the fields, down by the river, and circling my hips as I leant over the railing of the old bridge and watched the stream rush underneath ... of having my baby girls stroke and pat me saying "S'orright, mummy!" and be captivated by the wonder of birth, of experiencing the rush of hormones and the bliss and adventure that came with that, of feeling my strength and my baby's strength ... all this was not taken from me, all this I got to experience.  It confirmed again the beauty and power of birth, despite the negativity that surrounds birth in our culture, and the way we pathologize the normal in birth out of fear and the need to control what is, and should be kept, wild and free.  

Julie Bell, New Zealand