Birth Story of My Firstborn
Happy Mother’s Day
The birth story is the beginning of a beautiful journey into motherhood. Each birth story is worth sharing and celebrating as one of the miracles of life.
As a Californian by birth and a Londoner by choice, I am lucky to celebrate Mother’s Day twice. Mothering Sunday is celebrated in the UK on the fourth Sunday in Lent, exactly three weeks before Easter Sunday. In the US, Mother’s Day is observed on the second Sunday of May. Whether it is your first Mother’s Day, or 10th or 20th, or 50th, today we celebrate all of the wonderful mothers around the world. As my very first post on this blog, I share with you my birth story of our beautiful daughter who I affectionately nickname “Lady Yeya.” She is the reason why I am writing, sharing, and celebrating the joys of motherhood.
I look forward to sharing my journey and adventures in motherhood.
Until then, enjoy your day!
Lily x
Birth Story of Lady Yeya
If you are willing to listen, every new mum is more than happy to share their birth story. Their birth story is unique and different as each person and their newborn. So here on Mother’s Day 2020, I share with you my own birth story of my daughter Lady Yeya.
With the festive season behind us, my D-Day (aka Due Date) was fast approaching. I was wrapping up my final days at work before maternity leave at exactly 39 weeks pregnant. With one week to spare, I made provisional plans to enjoy our last days as “Dinky” (aka Dual Income, No Kids Yet), a slang reference for households with two incomes and no kids. On the agenda: lunch dates in town, museum hopping, window shopping, Netflix, and sleeping as much as we can. At least that was the plan.
All midwives will encourage you to have a birth plan, essentially an idea of what your “ideal” birth story would be. Homebirth or an all-natural birth, a c-section perhaps or birth with an epidural? Whatever it may be, it is a good idea to have a realistic birth plan. I came across my birth plan saved on my computer and laughed out loud when I re-read it. My birth plan was fairly pragmatic, encouraging Kenz to get some sleep so he can take care of me post-delivery. Here is a redacted version of my birth plan if you are curious. Needless to say, my birth plan did not go quite as planned but then again, nothing can prepare you for the emotions and pain that comes with birth.
First Stage of Labour: Contractions
On my first official day of maternity leave at 39W+1D, I took Buddy for our usual morning walk. I credit Buddy for keeping me fit and active throughout my pregnancy, along with lots of squats in preparation for labour. That morning on a chilly winter morning, I noticed a small amount of liquid clear discharge. Could I be going into labour? Did my water break? What should I do? To be fair, it was not like the movies when water gushes down your legs. Rather it was just some dribble off and on, and I was not in any pain or discomfort.
Given that the hospital was a short 5-minute walk from my house, I visited the day assessment unit just in case. It is better to be safe than sorry especially as a first-time Mum. Kenz accompanied me only to be informed by the midwife that my water hadn’t broken and the baby was not even engaged yet. The midwife reckoned that it will be another week or longer before the baby arrives especially for first-time mums, so go home and get some rest before D-Day. Perfect, I thought. I’d happily take a week “off” so I can enjoy my last days of “lady of leisure.” So I came home to finish up some chores, ran a few errands, and put on my out of office message. Little did I know then that I was in early-stage labour all day with minimal pain.
Active Labour
After dinner, we settled in for the evening to watch The Punisher on Netflix (so much for feel-good movies!). Around 8 pm, fairly mild contractions were coming on about 15-20 minutes apart. It felt like strong menstrual cramps but completely manageable with some breathing techniques and paracetamol. As long I sleep through the night, I could deal with this level of discomfort for a few hours, at least that is what I thought.
Around 10 pm, the contractions were coming on faster and stronger around 7 minutes apart. According to the birth plan, Kenz dropped off Buddy at our friend’s house in case I needed to rush to the hospital during ungodly hours. The contractions got stronger, about 5 minutes apart, and I rang up the hospital to let them know I am on my way. Believe me when I say that the midwives know when you are in active labour by the pain in your voice and short panting.
To the Hospital, We Go
Half an hour later, I needed to get to the hospital pronto. I mean pronto. Stubbornly, I opted for the 5-minute walk to the hospital via the park wearing only Smartwool socks and Crocs instead of taking an Uber. Kenz was trailing behind me with my hospital bag and an extra pillow.
As I entered the park, I saw a male figure in a black hoodie lurking around at the footbridge. He was acting slightly dodgy, but with the amount of pain I was in, I probably could have tackled him to the ground. Do not mess with this mama bear! Kenz had the same reaction, calling out my name to wait for him in case this dodgy figure was going to accost me. It turned out that this “dodgy figure” was a fellow dog owner who was waiting for his adorable French Bulldog “Leo” to finish his business. Phew! I still smile whenever I see Leo, the French Bulldog. I walked as quickly as I could, making it to the hospital maternity ward within one contraction.
Second Stage: The Birth
Having an epidural for pain relief was always part of my birth plan. I wasn’t interested in feeling any pain because I would feel all sorts of “pain” post-partum: breast soreness, emotional woes, hormonal changes, sleep deprivation – you name it. So if I can have some pain relief during the whole labour process, I’d take it!
I went straight to the maternity ward. To my dismay, there were two other couples in the waiting area. One lady was elegantly using her breathing technique, breathing in and out as if she was in a yoga class, and the other lady was watching Netflix on her iPad. Seeing how at ease they both were, I assumed that this was not their first child. Unlike me, on the other hand, I was in sheer agony. The pain was sharp because the baby was in a back-to-back position with her head pushing against my pelvis, rather than the “optimal” birth position. I’ve never broken a bone or had major surgery and so needless to say I have never felt such pain in my life. I seriously felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly, screaming uncontrollably.
Ready or Not, Here We Go
By 11:30 pm, I was 3 cm dilated and the pain intensified by the minute. Unfortunately, I had to wait for the anaesthesiologist to finish up with an emergency c-section before I could get an epidural. But I was in SO much pain. I was ready to take a pethidine injection also known as Demerol, an opioid painkiller, which was not part of the birth plan. At that point, I didn’t care. Anything to take the edge off, just give me some pain relief ASAP. However, if you are less than four hours away from the pushing stage of labour, the midwife will not administer a pethidine injection.
Well, guess what? By 2:30 am, I was fully 10 cm dilated and was ready to bear down to push. I went from 3 cm to 10 cm in 3 hours and this baby was ready to come out.
Push It, Push It Real Good…
Giving birth was by far the most physical thing I have ever done in my life. It did not help that she was in a back-to-back position which usually means that you’ll end up having a longer and harder “pushing” period. This also means the higher risk of tearing and the higher likelihood of assisted birth such as forceps or even a C-Section.
I pushed for over 2 hours, with the majority of time sitting in the “toilet” position pushing as hard as I could. I tried various birthing positions but felt the “toilet” position was the most natural. The pushing part felt like the largest and hardest poo of your life! I probably broke Kenz’ poor hands as he acted as a resistance wall as I was pushing down with each contraction. With each push, sweat poured down my face and I needed sips of Lucozade for the electrolytes and to keep up the energy. It was physical and hard, and I couldn’t wait for her to come out. I continued to push and push and push, as hard as I could, taking in as much oxygen for myself and for the baby.
Just as my energy level was waning with each push, the head midwife came in the final minutes to help with the last few pushes through the crowning and finally her arrival. She was like a military sergeant: firm, direct, and no-nonsense. “This baby is coming. Not in 20 minutes. She’s coming NOW! PUSH hard! Give it to me!” she commanded as she gestured her hands.
At 4:27 am on 20 February 2018, our little dark-haired beauty was born.
Welcome, little one!
Third Stage: Post Delivery
After birth, I got a syntocinon injection in the thigh to speed up the delivery of the placenta. The midwife did the usual post-delivery assessment whilst I bonded with my new daughter gazing at her wrinkled, vernix-covered face and holding her little hands. My midwife who has the same name as my mother-in-law was joined by her fellow Indian male doctor consultant, who shared the same name as my father-in-law. What are the chances of that? In addition to Leo, the French Bulldog, I would never forget the name of my midwife and consultant.
The consultant gave some bad news. I suffered a third-degree tear and would need to go to the operating theatre. Having never been an operating room, I did not know what to expect when I was wheeled away from my husband and my newborn who had their own bonding time and she even saved a big meconium poop for Dad.
The whole procedure was seamless, quick, and painless thanks to a local anaesthetic. I had the best 30-minute nap having not slept for over 24 hours prior. I stayed overnight in a private room and discharged with our new baby girl around 5 pm the following day. We celebrated by ordering pizza from Mama Dough and toasted to our new adventures in parenthood with a pint of Guinness. Why? An old wive’s tale that Guinness is supposed to help with breastmilk production. Not sure if it is true, but I was happy to partake.
And that is my birth story. The beginning of a beautiful journey into motherhood.
Happy Mother’s Day!
