Mama: Chelsea Bates @flissandco
Baby: Oliver James
I’ve been in two minds about writing these thoughts, but speaking to Justine, made me realise I should for myself.
I’ve tried to start this so many times, but there is so many points, so many things to mention, I just don’t know where to possibly start.
Some moments are buried so deep, I never thought I would have a reason to relive them, I didn’t think I wanted to.
There is so much to say and I’m still not quite sure I even have the right words.
Birth was something I thought I may not even experience, firstly because I was told it would be very difficult to fall pregnant, secondly because I had the most overwhelming anxiety of birth, pain, the thought of not being in control.
A few months after falling pregnant, I was blessed enough to experience my 2 bestest friends birth their babies in home, this absolutely sold the whole experience for me, the safety, the support, the warmth. I opted for a home birth, and finally felt content, and less anxious leading up to the birth.
I finally felt everything was falling into place, I felt safe and supported, a little excited to do this in my home, my safe space.
17th of May, 29 weeks. Everything turned upside down. My water partially broke, and I ended up admitted into hospital with PPROM (preterm premature rupture of membranes)
I had my first panic attack shortly after, when I was pushed into a cervical examination (that I wasn’t mentally prepared for at that time), before anyone even sat down to speak to me about what was happening. I didn’t even know if I was in labour, was I having a baby today? Would my baby survive?
There is so many things to say about the next 2 weeks, my chest tightens just trying to type these words. Too many words to share. I was admitted, and the following 8-9 days included multiple doses of steroid injections in my hips, sleepless nights filled with 2-3 hours obs, multiple conversations with doctors and paediatricians about my birth and babies future. I was told many times “you won’t have the perfect home birth you wanted”. I quickly learnt that home births were really looked down on in the hospital system, and doctors would be nicer to me if I just pretended I had planned a hospital birth from the start.
I pushed to be discharged at 30 weeks.
I had faced multiple anxiety attacks, the worst being when I locked myself in the toilet, stripped all of my clothes off and cried on the bathroom floor until I couldn’t catch my breath any longer.
I couldn’t stay in the hospital for much longer, being pressured into making decisions on the spot, and in front of strangers daily, not knowing when I would go into labour, if I went in to labour outside of visiting hours, would my support people arrive in time, how long would I be alone for? I was so scared. I have never felt this level of fear before. It sounds so dramatic, but this was the last place I wanted to be. I felt very isolated and my anxiety was at an all time high, for 10 days straight. The smell of the hospital, the noises, the loneliness.
Over the next few days at home, I really struggled with accepting that there was no alternative to a hospital birth. There was no magical solution. I would be birthing in hospital whether I had accepted it or not. I cried every single night until I fell asleep. I felt like a failure, I constantly felt like as a woman carrying a baby I should have been able to carry until 38+ weeks, it was my fault that this helpless tiny newborn was about to have this start to life.
I also had never felt more connected or in sync with my baby. It sounds so silly, every night I felt like we just had each other, in those lonely hours, and we totally knew what each other was going through.
I went into labour naturally, just after 31 weeks pregnant.
I didn’t realise it was labour, it was uncomfortable, but I had been uncomfortable for almost 2 weeks.
I started timing the cramping, the back aches, it started to become more regular.
We rushed to hospital, I’d been told since my waters had already broke, it could be quick, and with a 31 weeker I really didn’t fancy a roadside delivery. I wish I could have spent longer labouring at home, but everything was so unknown.
We arrived around 6/7pm on the 27th of May. They quickly confirmed I was in labour and shortly after I was set up in a birth suite, where I would spend the next 24 hours.
I’m not going to lie and say that the following hours weren’t some of the hardest moments I’ve faced.
Countless arguments with medical professionals about declining IV’s & exams, being told that the decisions I made have ended in babies dying before, asking a midwife to leave the room and not come back after I was ordered onto my back, and told to stop talking and asking too many questions. You can’t make this up. Even typing this makes me question if it actually happened.
My best friend arrived just in time. I was feeling defeated, unsupported and attacked. We were left alone for a while before a replacement midwife entered, with a student midwife. They quickly asked me if I was ok, I sobbed into her shoulder and explained this is not the home birth I had planned, that nothing about this was ok and I wanted it all to be over.
Little did I know at this time, these 2 women would be 2 of the most unforgettable people I would ever meet. I have no words to describe these 2 ladies, I could never thank them enough for the love and endless support and courage that they gave me, in my darkest hours.
They turned off the lights, introduced some essential oils, filled the walls with affirmations and turned on the shower. I spent a long time in here on the gym ball, music playing, and in darkness.
They told me that it was their mission to make this as homely as possible and I’ll never forget those comforting words.
I quickly realised that there was only 1 way out of this, I had to birth this baby, and the more relaxed I was, the easier it was going to be. This was something I was going to remember for a very long time, it had already been so tarnished up until this point, it was now up to me to decide how I wanted to remember the rest of this birth.
I remember being offered an epidural around midway, I quickly declined. I had already come this far, I wanted to feel in control, that was my biggest fear in all of this. For me, drug free was the way to do this, so I could feel my baby and know in my body what was right in each moment.
The hours were long, I didn’t really know what time it was, was it night or day? The room was dark, the blinds closed, time really became non existent.
Pressure was building, the contractions were getting heavier and deeper and deeper into my back. I had started to have the urge to push, my midwifes had started to worry, as I was no where near dilated enough to push. Within seconds, and 1 urge to push that I just could not control, my waters completely broke and I felt the hugest relief of pressure. The relief soon turned into panic as instantly the intensity of the contractions had increased tenfold.
The instant adrenaline was unimaginable, everything seemed to speed up and intensify instantly. My amazing birth support, my best friend knelt beside me and reminded me to breath, through everything, she talked me through my breathing, assured me that everything happening was completely normal and held me when I needed it.
At this point, I really felt like I had left my own body. I completely left the room, I was completely in my own world for the next hour. Kneeling on the floor, resting on the end of the bed, I breathed through every single contraction. I remember seeing my bestie do this in her bedroom, and taking in all the things, her soft breathing, he relaxed jaw.
My little bubble was popped when we started to lose trace of a heartbeat and a third senior midwife was asked to attend, along with 3-4 paediatricians in the case of resuscitation.
It was immensely hard to keep calm in these moments. When I felt moments away from birthing this baby, but trying to block out the words that filled the room like, no heartbeat trace, oxygen ready, distress, caesarean.
At this point, I started saying I could not do this any longer, I couldn’t go any further. My amazing midwife, partner and best friend kept me relaxed, continued to talk me through every single moment and contraction, reassuring me I was so close to the end, so close to delivering this baby.
By the time I started pushing, I felt utterly drained, I had not slept for almost 50 hours, and been in mind consuming active labour for 24 of those. I was exhausted and honestly felt like I had nothing left in me to go any further. I can’t even put into words the defeat I felt.
All I could hear was my midwife telling me they could see my baby, I was so close, to dig deep for any tiny bit of fight that I have left in me.
At 5:59pm, Oliver was born. 1.54kg. Breathing on his own, crying and into his Mummas arms for 90 seconds.
The shortest, sweetest, most unimaginable 90 seconds of my life.
As I lay there, preparing to deliver the placenta, I couldn’t even remember what he looked like.
I didn’t know if he was breathing on his own still, if he was ok.
Was he scared, was he wondering why I had left him, did he think I was never coming back. We had just spent the last 31 weeks together, and now we weren’t even on the same floor of the building.
…1 hour later, and I was back where I was meant to be. I finally had him in my arms, skin to skin, and there was nowhere else I would rather be. Time stood still for the next few hours, where we just sat in that chair, him on my chest.
I could have stayed there forever. I was already grieving the home birth we never had, where we could have just slipped into bed for the evening and felt each other close.
But, in that moment it didn’t matter where we were, who we were with, what the future was going to bring, or how hard the next 6 weeks would be, walking out of here each day without him.
My baby, my 31-week miracle was breathing on his own, in my arms. 1.5kg’s of pure strength.
Someday I am going to sit down and tell him his story. I don’t know what I’ll say, all I know is, I am going to tell him how strong he is and how every single day, he taught me to believe in miracles…
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