Casey's birth story

OK, let’s just start at the start and see where we go. This pregnancy and birth is so hard to define. Knowing it was the last time that we would bring a new baby into our family was tough for me and I longed to feel worse so I would be OK that I wouldn’t have to do it again! “Trying” to get pregnant got super stressful third time round as month after month the pregnancy test would come back negative. Who knows why this baby took a long time coming, but finally he decided the time was right and just like that, just like Thomas and Tyler, I *knew* before I knew I was pregnant.

I embraced this pregnancy with all my heart. The first trimester fell during the busy holiday photography season and I spent days out in the fields making children smile for their festive family photos before spending evenings and nights sleeping and feeling worn out with no energy left for anything else!  We found out in December that we were having our third boy. I wanted to know - with it being our final baby - to be able to process the feelings of not having a girl, if that was going to be our destiny. I didn’t expect the onslaught of “I’m sorry” comments and messages and it made me sad to think this baby would always be viewed as the ‘not a girl’ baby. The idea of three boys was amazing to me and I wasn’t sad like I had always assumed I would be. Bring on three boys! How amazing is it going to be having three men standing by my side as I go into my older years?!

My pregnancy was amazing. After crazy cravings for cheese and eggs in the first trimester, I pretty much embraced a plant-based diet for the second and third trimesters. Running around after two boys and a dog kept me active, and monthly acupuncture sessions, cranio-sacral therapy and the occasional pedicure / massage all contributed to the healthiest of all my pregnancies. 

In late May I had my Blessingway and spent an afternoon casting aside the feelings of sadness over my final pregnancy and walked a labyrinth to prepare for the enormity of life with a newborn and other family members to care for.  I went into the final weeks of pregnancy feeling loved and surrounded by people who cared for me.

My parents were due to arrive five days before my due date. My mum was present at the birth of both boys and it felt right to have her here for my third baby so we planned in advance, and made as good a guess as we could for when the baby would arrive! My first, Thomas, was ten days past his due date, and my second (Tyler) came on his due date, so we figured this baby was unlikely to come early and more likely to be around the “estimated’ date.  During week 39 the braxton hicks I had experienced for weeks seemed to ramp up a notch and there were a couple of days where I started to think I was in early labour, so much so that I called the midwife to tell her that things were possibly happening… I think we all willed the baby to stay in that week and were very grateful when my parents’ flight took off and labour still hadn’t started! The rest of that week passed quickly with trips to stock up on necessities and an impending excitement that things were going to happen soon. My due date came and went… and my mum started to stress that the baby wouldn’t arrive before she left! This baby was quite content to stay inside just a little while longer, and once I made peace with the idea that maybe we hadn’t timed it right this time, and maybe my mum wouldn’t be here for the birth, things started to happen…

40+4 weeks! Last pregnant picture!

Wednesday morning, June 24th, started like any other - Thomas and Tyler on each side of me in bed, ribs relieved from lying down all night, check for baby movements and up we get! That day we pottered around, buying more last minute food necessities and taking my parents to the mall. As I was walking through the shopping mall I felt a braxton hick coming on - this was nothing new, the endless walking caused BHs to happen pretty much endlessly in the last few days, but as I carried on walking I realised that maybe, just maybe, this one felt slightly more… contraction like? That feeling of “ohhhhhh, *now* I remember what contractions feel like” came upon me and I smiled to myself but didn’t tell anyone.  This happened again two hours later, and again another two hours after that.  Contractions two hours apart, I thought to myself, this is going to take some time!

We went to bed around 10.45pm and I played a last minute game of Words with Friends and Candy Crush [don’t judge me!] and as I moved my leg into a more comfortable position, I felt a small pop and warmness. Was it bloody show or water? I thought to myself and as I struggled to an upright position, I realised water was spilling down my leg! Not a gush like Tyler, just a trickle. I started to laugh to myself. A good friend of mine in the UK had recently shared her birth story and she had also remarked how her last labour began with her water breaking first, something that had never happened to her, and here I was having the same thing happen! I decided to leave David sleeping but dutifully called my midwives, knowing how quickly Tyler had come in the middle of the night. 

I wasn’t having contractions so I knew that there were two possibilities - contractions were going to start up pretty quickly, or I could go another few hours or more before anything happened. I still hadn’t had any other signs of imminent labour so I planned to go to bed and get some sleep and see what the night brought.  Well, contractions started about 10 minutes later so that idea didn’t last long! I still didn’t wake anyone and I decided to time them to see what was going on. I think I dozed on and off during this time and I was surprised when I looked the next day and saw how many times I had logged a contraction! 8 minutes, 8 minutes, never anything more, never more intense, doze, contraction, doze, contraction. Then around 1.30am I started to get more uncomfortable with the contraction and was needing to moan. I decided it was time to wake up David and get him to call the midwives.  My mum was still sleeping and I told David not to wake her yet, I wanted her to get as much sleep as possible, knowing that someone would need to look after the boys tomorrow.

Andrea, the midwife assistant, showed up first and I knew then that everything was going to be OK! I remember saying “Andrea is here! Now we can have a baby!” :) I was still stressing that I had called everyone out too early. The contractions were still 8 minutes apart and were getting more intense but weren’t getting closer together. I laboured on the bed on all fours, burying my head in a pillow to moan through a contraction. My mum woke up around this point and I remember I kept telling her to go back to sleep, that it was going to be hours before anything happened and she didn’t need to stay up… She didn’t listen to me, haha!

Nannette showed up around 3am (I think) and asked if I wanted to go in the bathtub. I had mentioned a couple of times during prenatals that this baby seemed to be drawing me to water. I had not liked the birth pool with Thomas, the intense back labour had made me unable to get comfy in the water, and Tyler’s birth was just too quick! Earlier in this pregnancy I had a need to go and see the ocean, and the last couple of weeks we had the luxury of the swimming pool to take the weight off my baby-laden body. The tub sounded amazing, and Nannette and Andrea got to work filling it for me.

Nannette asked if I was OK with Grace, the student midwife, being present and that was fine with me. By that point, I was getting to labour la-la land and I didn’t really know what I wanted any more! I got in the tub and the relief was immense. People had always told me about this relief from contractions that they felt in the water and I had never experienced it. Now I understood. It felt so good. Contractions were still 8 minutes apart, although I think everyone had stopped timing them now. I kept exclaiming “we’re having a baby!”. I remember feeling so excited, we had waited so long, and finally we were going to meet this little man. I got concerned that I had got in the tub too early as the contractions didn’t seem anywhere near as intense. Andrea was sitting to the side of me and once I vocalised this to her, she pointed out that maybe I was just getting more relief from the water, and after that the contractions seem to ramp up and become more frequent (I *think* this is when I told David to call Jacqie, my friend and amazing photographer!).

David was in front of me the whole time; he was my gate keeper, my protector. Nothing mattered beyond him. I knew I was safe, and I knew I could trust this team of birth keepers. My amazing mummy who had witnessed the birth of Thomas and Tyler, the beautiful Andrea who held the birth space with so much grace, and the midwives who knew when to be in the room and when to leave.  I was surrounded by love, as well as affirmations from my Blessingway, my Blessingway candle and I had even put on my beaded necklace! The friends who had come and shared that sacred space with me were all around, and my heart felt like it couldn’t be happier. I was so open and so vulnerable and yet felt so strong. I talked to my baby “come on baby, we can do this, I love you”, I moaned into David’s arms, he stroked me and gave me water and when I started to sweat, he mopped my head with a cooling towel. This was intense. This was birth.

Andrea commented “Lindsey, are you starting to feel a bit pushy?”, “maybe” I replied… Apparently the labour sounds had shifted a notch and I was needing to bear down more at the end of each contraction. My body felt wide open, the pain of each contraction was breath-taking and I had to remember to keep my jaw soft and to keep the frown from my face. Soft, Lindsey, soft. Keep everything soft and open. I felt down to see if I could feel anything but there was nothing there. Nannette asked if I could feel anything, “no” I responded and then felt this wave of immense sorrow wash over me. I cried, briefly. I don’t *think* I said “I can’t do this” but I know I felt it! And with that cry and that immense emotion, I felt him move down in the birth canal. I reached down again and felt his head.

This part to me is the most amazing. I remember it so vividly, even though I know I was in a primal place. I remember his head, I remember the fear of not being able to do this again. I felt like I needed to do a big poo! but my logical brain told me “Lindsey, you’re having a baby”. I needed to be sick, “Lindsey, you’re having a baby”. I needed to vocalise all of these things in order to allow my body to do what it needed to do to get my baby to come down. I knew he was going to be a big baby. My other two boys were big and this pregnancy had been so similar, with rib pain for the last month as he had no room to move. My mind needed to let go, but I also needed to have a little bit of control, so I didn’t force him out too fast. I breathed into my cheeks, softly, Lindsey, softly. I felt him coming, so slow. There was no need to push, my body and my baby were working together to come out. And all of a sudden, with a flash of pain and an allowance to get over that ‘ring of fire’, his head came out. It felt like the world paused. I felt his shoulders rotate, one then the other and as he came out, I sat back and caught my baby in my hands. 

{Jacqie Q Photography}

The cord was wrapped around his neck so Grace helped me untangle it and I brought him out of the water. I did it! We had a baby! He was real and perfect and healthy and covered in vernix. There I had been, wondering how I would ever top Tyler’s amazing birth, and here I had the perfect birth. No interventions, no-one touching me, an amazing birth team holding my space and allowing me to birth my baby. What an incredible powerful experience!

I had to breathe into little man Welch’s face to stimulate him to breathe a little better and it wasn’t long before he was pinking up and testing out his lungs. The placenta didn’t take long to come out and then we were finally two. No more pregnancy. I was done.

David took the baby for some skin-to-skin and I got out of the bath. My iron levels had bordered on the ‘low’ end of the scale during this pregnancy (and do in general) and we were very aware that a slight excess in bleeding may necessitate pitocin. This did end up happening but at least the baby was out and it was better to stop the bleeding than risk my iron levels dipping too low to come back up easily.

And there we have it. Casey Bryson Welch was born on June 25th at 4.15am after five hours of active labour. He was born into his mummy’s arms in the water, weighing in at 10lb 6oz, length 21”, head 15”. Thomas slept in our bedroom through the whole thing and woke up during the newborn exam. Tyler slept in his bedroom all night for the first time in forever and didn’t wake up until 7.30am! We are done, our family is complete and it feels just perfect. All of the feelings of sadness over my last pregnancy have gone and have been replaced by a calm contentment. I feel good. I feel complete. 

Tyler's birth part 2 - the accidental, unassisted birth!

You can read part 1 of Tyler's birth story here.

Thomas was born ten days 'late' on December 19th 2008. By my estimations I reckoned he was due around the 16th, but being a first-time Mum and not appreciating how much importance was placed on that date, I never argued with the midwives when they selected the date based on the 12 week ultrasound. It was only when we reached that date that I realised what a mistake that had been. Although willing to listen to my requests for no mention of sweeps or induction, I began to get pressured into agreeing to growth scans and was told that I only had two weeks and then my home birth request would not be granted. Two weeks took me to Christmas Eve, which I'm sure helped them decide to go off call for me :) Luckily for me, I went into labour on the 19th.

This time round I decided I wouldn't take too much notice of the 'due date'. I didn't tell many people what the date was, I had just decided that my baby would most likely be born in mid-December. Officially the UK date was set (via ultrasound) to December 10th; unofficially by my estimations I put myself closer to the 14th, and this is what my brilliant midwives agreed to.

As mentioned in part one, Thomas began to get more loving and more clingy towards me in the week before Tyler was born. I was very uncomfortable in my ribs and woke up a lot at night. I didn't want to believe something might be happening, because I knew how impatient I had become with Thomas! I also wanted to relish in the simplicity of our life as a family of three. More and more I was beginning to remember how much of a life change having Thomas was, and I just wanted to hold on to our life of peaceful evenings and family dinners for a little bit longer!

Mum and dad arrived on December 6th so we had a few days to take them around Frederick and introduce Mum to Target :)

On December 9th I woke up feeling crampy. With Thomas I had thought I was in labour two days before he was born which turned into nothing so I wasn't going to get excited this time round. We decided to go to downtown Frederick for the morning and by the time we got home, I was more convinced that things were happening although I wasn't in any pain. The cramping feeling started to feel more contraction-like around mid-afternoon but it still wasn't painful and I knew this kind of feeling could last for hours or days so at 6pm we went to the local Italian for dinner. I'd told David contractions were every ten minutes or so and got him to download an app on his IPhone as I was starting to get curious about the timings. We looked at the readings around half an hour later… 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes, 6 minutes… oh, maybe something was definitely happening! We came home and as my Dad went to bed, his parting words were "this baby isn't coming tonight".

I went upstairs to kiss Thomas goodnight and told him that when he woke up, his baby brother might have arrived. He was very excited! I took out my gifts from my Glasgow Blessingway, my bracelet and labyrinth and crystals and lit the candle my good friend Caroline had given me. I got in the bath around 9.30pm. The contractions were the same but I just felt like having a break and knew this early on that they would most likely stop. I was OK with that, I just really wanted a bath!

[very weird for me as I don't like baths!]

As anticipated, everything stopped. I got out and sent a message to Nannette (midwife!) to tell her that things were progressing but I still had a way to go so I was going to bed to rest. Off I went at 10.30pm.

I woke up at 11.15pm. The contractions were stronger now and I was having to breathe through them. They were still erratic though, varying from 6-8 minutes, never any shorter. David wanted to phone the midwives but I was sure it was too soon. We were lying in bed, me on all fours, breathing into the pillow each time a contraction came. I held Davids' hand. He stroked my back. Then I cried. I remember thinking "I've got hours to go, how can I do this?" (ummmm, hello transition!). It hurt but the gap between contractions made it OK. Thomas's labour had been ten hours of unrelenting back labour, with wave upon wave of contractions. This was so different.

Just after midnight a pretty painful contraction hit. David insisted on calling Nannette even though I was still unsure. She said she would come over and would be about 45 minutes.

A couple of minutes later, another big contraction came and POP went my waters! I ran to the bathroom, shouting at David "My waters just broke! Wake up my Mum!". The next part is a blur. I was sat on the toilet and felt this incredible urge to push. I got off the toilet and squatted by the sink, moaning and panting, trying desperately not to have this baby.  This was an absolutely perfect example of the fetal ejection reflex at work!  David was putting the futon mattress down on the floor in the bedroom (nothing like being prepared in case of a quick labour!), my Mum was next to me saying "don't push, don't push", I put my hand down and I could feel the top of the baby's head poking out. I held onto it (haha, what a sight!) and waddled to the mattress and kneeled with my head on the bed. Another contraction came and I couldn't stop it, I told my Mum I was going to be sick, but out came the head instead. There was no pain at this point, that had stopped as soon as my waters broke. I felt so calm, so in control, I could feel everything. David looked down to see if he could see anything and said "the head's out!", whoops, seemed I'd forgotten to mention that! The next couple of minutes were incredible. I felt a movement and shouted at David to stop touching the baby! "I'm not!" he said. Then again, another movement - "DON'T touch him!", "I'm not!!". A few seconds later, and out came Tyler, into his daddy's hands, 12.48am - maybe twenty minutes since my waters broke. He had been moving himself, rotating his shoulders and turning in the birth canal, and I felt every single part of that journey. David passed him to me, through my legs, and I held him to my chest. My perfect baby, 10lb 3oz, 21.5 inches. My perfect birth. On his official 'due date', the day of the lunar eclipse AND a full moon. I am blown away.

The placenta came away very quickly, maybe 5-10 minutes later, and we saw the true knot in his umbilical cord. Tyler was already breastfeeding when Liz (midwife!) turned up five minutes later. I couldn't stop apologising, I was so sad that after all these months they had missed out on the birth! Liz just looked at me and said, "this birth happened exactly as it was meant to". I know she was right and I am so grateful they were there just after Tyler was born, to check him and to check me, and that they were there on the phone with David, telling him what to do while my Mum sat with me. Their help and support and aftercare were invaluable and I love them :)

My dad was downstairs waiting for the midwife when he heard the cries of a newborn baby :)

Thomas slept through the whole thing…

Tyler's birth part 1 - setting the scene

Everyone knows I'm pretty obsessed with all things pregnancy and birth. I spoke about it here, and it stems from Thomas's birth here. It led me on my path to becoming a doula and has resulted in me meeting some of the most amazing, interesting women who have shared my passion, increased my yearning for knowledge, and empowered me as a woman and a mother.

So, why do I need to start this story with that? It's taken me a while to really process what happened that day, and I'm sure that Tyler's birth happened the way it happened because I've been lucky enough to learn so much about birth...

Or maybe just because precipitous 2nd/3rd labours run in the family :)

I decided early on in this pregnancy that I wanted the minimal amount of interference this time round. The first battle came with the NHS midwives who got twitchy at the fact that I had birthed a 'big baby' last time and set me on a road of growth scans, gestational diabetes checking and constant monitoring. All this even though I had an uncomplicated labour and delivery with my 'big' first born. Lucky for me I knew I was leaving the UK so agreed to everything they said, took my notes and left Glasgow a few days later!

My knowledge of birth in the US up to this point was limited to websites such as Birth Without Fear, Mama Birth and the Unnecesarean, and I had hurriedly switched off One Born Every Minute US 10 minutes into the first episode. I thought the birth system in the UK had problems but, my goodness, the US was a whole new kettle of fish! Next I learnt that different states had different laws regarding the use of midwives as opposed to obstetricians. I knew I wanted a home birth and luckily we were moving to a state where home birth wasn't illegal. Coming from a country where every woman has the right to birth at home, I was amazed that such restrictions were still commonplace in a country the size of the US. So, you can legally birth at home in the state of Maryland... But only if you have a doctor or nurse midwife present. My next learning curve - there are different 'types' of midwives and the type of midwife who most frequently attends homebirths (a certified professional midwife CPM) is NOT licensed to legally attend a homebirth in Maryland. Lucky for me, through the power of the internet, I was informed of a couple of midwives who would be prepared to come to a home birth and I arranged to meet with them as soon as we arrived in the US.

I was so nervous about what to expect and went to 'interview' my potential midwives with a list of "please don't do these things to me". I could feel myself physically and emotionally relax as I went through my list and Liz looked at me, smiled and said, "well, of course we won't do that". I met Nannette the next day and her responses were the same and before I knew it, my prenatal care and home birth plan were sorted and I could focus on the enormity of moving to a foreign country rather than stressing about hospital birth and unsympathetic doctors!

My experience with the midwives and their assistants at Riverside Midwifery in Charles Town was like nothing I had ever come across in the UK. Liz, Nannette, Zaina, Shanna and Antonette made every appointment seem special. They never rushed anything, they were always willing to discuss anything and everything, and they all seemed genuinely excited as the weeks ticked by and December approached. I had a great pregnancy and felt at peace and excited as well as I waited for my Mum & Dad to arrive, praying that the baby would wait too!

Thomas was also getting excited as he had been told for months that when the weather turned cold, the leaves fell off the trees and Grandma & Grandad arrived, then his baby brother would be ready to come out and meet him...

In the last week of pregnancy, it was almost as if he sensed something was happening. He became much more clingy, very loving and he would stroke my belly and ask if his baby brother was coming yet. Little did we know how soon that would be!

You can find part two HERE.

Christmas card photo - two weeks to go! (Yes, it really was warm enough for t-shirts at the end of November!)

Little did I realise but this was taken the morning of the day I went into labour! I was moaning about getting too pregnant for pregnant clothes :)

BIRTH

Why am I so obsessed with birth? As a doula, I’m allowed to admit that I am – I am TOTALLY obsessed with all things pregnancy, labour and birth.

Mum with Mark (and her magnificent beehive!)

For as long as I can remember, every year on our birthdays, my Mum has retold our birth stories. That means, for as long as I can remember, I have been told four birth stories a year. All of the births were very different, starting with my brother Mark, when my Mum was just twenty years old.  She went into labour but didn’t want to miss the Beatles on TV so held off until after the show. She was then left alone in a hospital room to labour, no partner, no parents, just Mum and an occasional midwife. She was very scared and didn't know what was going on but she never made any complaint - that was how birth was in the 60s - and she always told the tale with excitement and love for this first baby.

Mum & Dad with Nicholas (nice turtleneck dad!)

Nick was a long awaited baby; born three years after Mum & Dad started trying. Early in her second trimester, Mum was told that she had contracted Rubella in early pregnancy and she may not keep the baby. She had to have continual scans every couple of weeks while they checked the development of the baby until being given the all-clear around 18 weeks. Late in pregnancy Mum was given a routine internal examination by her consultant – a man with the “boniest fingers” she’d ever felt – who hurt her and made her bleed. In hospital they suspected a low-lying placenta for which she was whipped into surgery and checked, being told that she would either come out of it with a C-section or her waters broken, depending on whether the placenta was there or not. Mum was convinced it was the consultant who had done something to her and Nick was born five hours after they broke her waters.

Mum and Chris (and Sheba. And some nice flares)

Chris was an unexpected surprise when Nick was only a few months old. Having had difficulties to conceive, my parents didn’t think a second one would come so easily :) Mum had high blood pressure in the last couple of weeks of pregnancy and was put on hospital bedrest. In hospital she again had a routine internal examination, where the doctor chuckled and told her he’d just given her a little ‘twiddle’ with his magic fingers... That night Mum woke up at midnight with a massive pain. One minute later she had another. Another minute, another pain. The nurse on call was chatting up the doctor on shift and wouldn’t believe that she was in labour. She eventually gave her an enema (as was routine practice) and as Mum was on the toilet, the baby started to crown. She was whipped into the delivery suite quick smart and Dad missed the birth (not helped by aforementioned nurse failing to call him as she hadn’t believed Mum was in labour). Chris was born 50 minutes after that first contraction.

Then there was me. Mum was in hospital for the last month of pregnancy with high blood pressure. I wasn’t growing and she was on strict bed rest. She was let out just before my due date then five days later went into early labour – the only labour where she was sick in the early stages. After Chris’s dramatic entrance, they rushed into hospital and everything stopped. Dad went home, a foetal monitor was attached and she was told the baby was in distress. “Nonsense” my Mum replied, “there is nothing wrong with my baby” :) They told her she had been in labour too long and would have to go on the drip. After Dad had missed my brothers’ birth, Mum refused to move until he turned up. She was put on a drip at 2.30pm and I was born two hours later… “Have you thought of a name?” asked the midwife, “Lindsey” Mum replied, “What if it’s a boy?”…

“If it’s a boy, you can push it back”.

Mum and Me!

These are the stories of my childhood, teenage years and now adulthood. I love hearing the stories, all of them so different, all of them so filled with excitement and love. No traumatic, horrible birth stories for me. I was brought up believing that birth hurt like hell but was something that had to be done because the minute that baby came out, the pain was totally forgotten.

From L-R: Chris, Mum, Me and Nick

When I became pregnant with Thomas, I had all of these stories swimming around my head. I craved knowledge of all things labour and birth. I was so excited! I did yoga and Hypnobirthing and read and read and read. I wanted a home birth. I didn’t want this, I did want that. I researched EVERYTHING. I knew about everything. What I didn’t know was that even with all the knowledge in the world, labour and birth is something beyond your control, to an extent.

First photo of Thomas :)

I had a brilliant labour and birth with Thomas, supported by my beloved husband and my amazing mother, and it was an empowering, magical experience. I would do it again in a second. Good job too, seeing as I’ll be doing it again in December!

Hello Grandma! Where am I? I'm scared!

It wasn’t ‘perfect’, it didn’t all go according to ‘the plan’, and this is what I have since learnt. Ditch the plan, have a list of birth preferences. If there is anything you feel really strongly about, put it in BIG LETTERS. Here are my thoughts for my next list of birth preferences:

• DO NOT EVEN CONSIDER TALKING TO ME ABOUT INDUCTION.
• DO NOT TOUCH MY VAGINA.
• DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES CUT THE CORD.

I’ll keep you posted on how well I stick to them :)



This post was written for week 68 of The Gallery, hosted by Tara at Sticky Fingers. The theme was "birth" so I couldn't resist!

Sarah Buckley study day, May 7th 2011

*Disclaimer – I have not been sponsored to write this post, I honestly just love this woman this much!*

Yesterday, Saturday May 7th 2011, I had the great privilege to attend a Sarah Buckley study day in Edinburgh: “Safety and Logic of Physiological Birth”. For those in the natural birthing world, the name Sarah Buckley will be well known. For everyone else, Dr. Sarah Buckley is an MD from Australia who extols the virtue of natural birth through evidence-based research and her own experience of birthing her four children. She is author of the absolutely fabulous book, “Gentle Birth, Gentle Mothering”, and has written numerous articles on pregnancy and birth.

The study was organised by Adela Stockton and co-friends from Doula UK. Adela is my ‘local hero’. It was through attending her doula workshops that I began to understand the path my life was going to take. She is awesome. She is a writer, midwife, doula trainer, homeopathist and mother. Her book “Birth Space, Safe Place: emotional wellbeing through pregnancy and birth” is an easy, beautifully written piece on how to obtain a great birth experience. I would recommend it to any pregnant friend or partner. Her second book “Gentle Birth Companions: doulas serving humanity” reflects on the history of the doula movement, both in the UK and Europe, and is essential reading for anyone looking for more information on the background of doulas.

So, my two favourite natural birth advocates in one room!! Could my world get any better?!

Actually yes! Because the day was spent with a group of amazing women; doulas, midwives, mothers, pregnant women and an expectant father. I was surrounding by some of my wonderful West of Scotland doula friends, met up with some East coast doulas I hadn’t seen in ages, and also met many more of the doulas and midwives who serve Scotland and Northern England.

The West of Scotland doulas meet Dr. Sarah Buckley MD

The day was based around three main lectures, “The Safety and Logic of Normal Birth”, “The Impact of Interventions”, and “The Hour after Birth and Postnatal Period”. Sarah spoke first about the physiological processes which take place during an ‘undisturbed birth’, that is, a birth without any interventions where a woman is left to labour in a private, safe, unobserved environment. What I love about Sarah is that speaks about evidence-based research. Maybe because I am a scientist, it just makes so much sense to me. She spoke about the hormones released during normal birth: oxytocin – the hormone of ‘love’; catecholamines – the hormones of ‘fight or flight’; beta-endorphins – the natural painkillers; and prolactin – the hormone of ‘paternity’. The second lecture of the day talked about how interventions can affect the natural pathways of these hormones and what affects these have on a labouring woman. It seems so obvious, once you understand what is happening in the body, and yet in this age of medicalised pregnancy and birth, an undisturbed birth rarely happens and interventions are commonplace in the labour room.

After lunch, Sarah moved on to the time immediately after birth, highlighting how essential it was for women to remain in their birthing state in order to effectively birth the placenta, maximise their hormonal surges and begin the process of attachment to the new baby. The importance of delayed cord clamping was explained – it’s incredible how much more blood the baby receives from the placenta before it stops pulsating! Why has it become routine in our society to clamp the cord and stop this transfer from mother to baby?

What blew me away was this quote, written by Erasmus Darwin in 1801 – Charles Darwin’s FATHER!

“Another thing very injurious to the child, is the tying and cutting of the navel string too soon; which should always be left till the child has not only repeatedly breathed but till all pulsation in the cord ceases. As otherwise the child is much weaker than it ought to be, a portion of the blood being left in the placenta, which ought to have been in the child.”

Erasmus Darwin,

Zoonomia, 1801

At the end of the day, people were split into groups and asked to think about factors that could ensure a woman in labour feels private, safe and unobserved. All women are different and different environments will work for different people, but this was a great opportunity to hear the experiences of others, learn how other doulas behaved in the birthing space and listen to the wisdom of midwives who explained their roles in the birth.

I came away from the day feeling humbled by the amazing women I was surrounded by; inspired by all of the new knowledge which I gained; and amazed by the power of females during labour and birth.

Wow. Now – spread the word!

Matilda’s birth Monday 21st February 2011

I was recently very privileged to attend to my first doula birth. The birth mummy has given permission for me to post 'our' story here. Thank you! Here you go folks :)


This is my first birth story. My first birth story that isn’t mine. I feel proud and privileged to be part of someone else’s story and it is something that will stay with me forever.

Matilda’s mummy (S) started her labour story days before her baby would finally be born. The contractions started on the Thursday, infrequent and easy to deal with, S kept me informed of progress and excitement rippled through our world. Friday came and went with similar contractions, and so went Saturday. Sunday morning came the exciting message that things were starting to get a bit more intense. Contractions had begun in earnest at 3.30am and S was now having regular contractions every five minutes. The midwife was due to arrive to monitor progress and I was told to prepare myself for ‘the call’. My Sunday was then spent pacing the flat! S sent another message in the late morning to say the midwife had been, it looked like labour was progressing and she would expect to get another call in the afternoon. S called me at 4pm to say her waters had just broke! I scurried around, got my bag and leapt into a taxi!

I arrived at the flat to find S dealing with the contractions well. You could feel the excitement in the room. This baby was on its way! Little B (at 15 months old) was being entertained by S’s mum, while A (Matilda’s daddy) was keeping an eye on everyone and seeming to be everywhere at once with his devotion to S apparent and his love of Little B shining. S continued having 5 minutes contractions and the midwife turned up again soon after. She checked to find S was 2cm dilated. Things were progressing, albeit slowly, progression is the key!

The next few hours meld into each other. Massaging S with clary sage, on her back, on her arms and on her beautiful bump. I could feel the contractions as they happened and tried to take some of the pain into my hands. S was brilliant, changing positions, standing, lying on her side, kneeling, pacing, coping beautifully with each contraction. She decided on gas & air to help deal with the pain. We rubbed her back. First me, then A, then me again. A came and went, looking after Little B, looking after all of us. Little B came into the room often to check on her mummy. Once assured that all was well and her mummy was still there, she left again. I found it so beautiful to see Little B joining in with this birth. Too young to really understand but one day her mummy will be able to tell her “you were there, you were with me while your sister was making her way into this world”.

S asked for morphine. She was starting to get tired from the contractions. After the morphine we left the room and let S rest a while with A. They had made a beautiful lasagne and I will remember that meal as long as I live! It was a chance for me to speak with the midwife, to talk about what we did for a living, to set a boundary for us and form an alliance. It was a good opportunity for me to help her realise that I wasn’t there to tell her what to do. After all, my allegiance was to S, and S had asked me for support, not asked me to tell the midwife what to do.

More hours, more massage, more pacing, bouncing, kneeling, swaying. S was beautiful, coping so well, never moaning.

The midwife checked her again at 9pm. She was 4cm. The midwife told her she was progressing but very slowly. I thought “Brilliant! Progression!”. More morphine was given, more pacing, more swaying, more massaging. S was getting tired. The midwife asked if S was focused on a home birth, or just a vaginal birth. S didn’t know any more. The midwife left the room and it gave us some time to talk. I told her that the midwife was going to tell her we could go to hospital. We could go and get an epidural and she could sleep. S told me she knew. She knew this was coming. She was getting so tired. With tiredness comes the doubt and with doubt things become less clear. We would see how things went and in a couple of hours we would check again and if there was no progression, S would transfer to hospital.

S was checked again at 10.30pm. The midwife said she was still 4cm. Plus the baby had her hand against her face. This was why it was so hard. The time had come to go to hospital.

It was the night of an old firm match. Celtic vs Rangers in the football. Many many fights, drunk people, accidents. The ambulance took 45 minutes to appear. S continued to cope with contractions. I was amazed with her stamina. She never complained, she just swayed, breathing deeply, brilliantly.

The transfer to hospital and handover seem in my mind to have taken forever. All S wanted was an epidural but there was so much to do beforehand! Foetal monitoring, new midwives, new questions. I gave the new midwife the birth plan. “Whatever happens”, I said, “she has written it all in her birth plan. I think you should know her wishes”.
The doctor came in and examined S. Still 4cm but she was happy that the baby was happy and she thought that with an epidural we could give it a couple of hours and see what happened. Only one problem – the anaesthetist was going to go in for a C-section soon. S could have a CS now but the dr was saying she could try for a normal delivery. S considered a CS. Everyone left the room except for S, A and myself. A told S that he would agree with whatever she wanted but he thought she should try an epidural first. I agreed with him. I truly believed that S was struggling so much because she was so tired. Contractions had started at 3.30am and it was now 12am the next day! Just a bit of rest, a little sleep, and it would all seem so different. S agreed.

The anaesthetist was too busy to come. He had gone into surgery. S was left with no morphine, just gas and air. Just waiting. She was brilliant. The same as the last 20 hours. No complaining, no shouting, just breathing. I looked at her face. She was so tired. So so tired. I wished that I could just take some of that pain, just for a little while, so she could get some sleep. We tried some different positions. A was brilliant. He was so in love with S and right then his love was so apparent he could have been wearing a flashing badge saying “I love this woman!”. He held her hand, held her face, kissed her, stroked her skin, made her feel loved, kept her calm. I sat to the side and tried to blur into the background; there if needed, but not needed right then.

The monitor had slipped a couple of times and the baby’s heartbeat was not registering properly. The doctor came back in and announced that the baby was in distress! The monitor had slipped, I said, and so did the midwife. The doctor stayed for another contraction and was not happy with the trace. S was exhausted, A was worried for his wife, and the option of a C-section was given again. Less of an option, they weren’t happy with the heartbeat. It was time for S and A to decide. They agreed to go for the CS. 23 hours after contractions started, S went in to the operating theatre. A looked so scared, so worried for her. I was left in the labour room. Time to pack up our things and wait.

I was moved to another room and waited. A came out of the operating room, Matilda was born! I could have cried! I didn’t, I think I knew if I cried then that the tiredness that was burning around the edges would creep in and I wouldn’t stop crying or I would fall asleep! He looked so happy. The face of a new father. So relieved that S was OK, so happy that Matilda was here. She was here! She looked like Little B. She had hair. She was fine. Everyone was OK.

I waited for S to come out of theatre and met Matilda. She was already on the breast, she hadn’t moved since being put there. What a brilliant start to breastfeeding! S looked tired but happy. Photos were taken. I stayed for a while, I wanted to make sure S was OK. I crept away at 4.30am, 25 hours after contractions had started, 90 minutes after Matilda was born. Welcome to the world Matilda!

My first doula birth. A life-changing experience and one I will never forget.

Thank you, S, A, Little B, S’s mum, and of course, Matilda ☺ x

What is a doula?

Doula, from the Greek doul, meaning servant-woman, slave, is the name given to modern-day birth support partners. Doulas act as ‘mothers supporting mothers’, an experienced lay-person accompanying the mother (and her partner) during her pregnancy, birth and subsequent life with a new baby. In the past this role has been undertaken by family or friends, when birth was less medicalised and women gave birth at home or surrounded by female supporters. As the process of birth was taken into the hospital, the need for support partners was undermined and forgotten. In recent years, the importance of birth support partners - people who can help focus, calm and be present at all times – has been recognised and the role of the ‘doula’ has emerged.