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"Angelica", my second child, was born very early on a monday morning. An hour after her birth I was looking out above the dawn skyline of Melbourne while she sucked her thumb in the basket next to me.
When it was time for me to go to the hospital I tapped on the ceiling of my flat with a broom ...it was the signal my neighbours had been waiting for. They came down and made me tea while we waited for my cousin to come over. It was a Sunday afternoon in winter. My contractions were not very strong, but it seemed the right time to go to the birth centre to me. The first few hours at the birth centre dragged by...my contractions didn't diminish but they didn't grow much stronger. Being told I was not in labour did nothing to improve my spirits. I felt a little like i'd been told I was faking it! My support person, and cousin, Bernadette was trying to get some sleep so I lay down for a while too. By midnight my contractions had grown stronger and I had a show, I felt vindicated when it was decided I was in labour. The next four hours or so passed in a slow blur. I had no awareness of the baby within me. I just felt myself gripped periodically by this terrible pain, a pain I could not escape. At some point I took the gas mask that was offered to me and breathed deeply trying to build a barrier between me and my body. What seemed to happen though was that barrier itself grew to be a new pain, a worse pain, located in my head. In exasperation I through the mask across the room where it lay for the duration. The next big change happened at around 4 am. I recall asking my midwife how much longer she thought it would take before the labour was over, still too stuck in myself to think of my baby. She said I might be waiting till lunchtime. I was shocked; I thought "No way!" Maybe my baby was listening in, maybe my determination kicked in, all I know is the labour really got going. I'd been labouring in bed for quite a while now and moved around a bit to try to get more comfortable, nothing much seemed to work but as things got more intense and I became more centered and focused in myself I found the midwife's suggestion that I lie on my side was what I wanted to do. At some point I was possessed by the urge to push. During one push the membranes popped the waters gushed and I knew things were happening. The contractions were strong and intense, but I don't recall any pain, just the feeling of movement and a sense of purpose as my daughter rapidly slid into the world. I was so much more prepared for this birth. I knew more about what to expect, and I knew what I didn't want, I would physically shudder at the memory of Maniaco's birth, but I still didn't have a concept of a joyous active birth. I read plenty and gone to classes, the fear was still with me though. I owe my cousin Bernadette more than I can say for her support through this pregnancy and birth. Thank's Bernie. |