Ada’s birth story

It was the run up to Christmas. That time of year when something strange happens to time and space. We celebrated ‘Christmas Day’ with our families in mid-December so we could hide away for the rest of the month and enjoy our final days just the two of us. We battened down the hatches, and we waited.

I suppose it all began with some light period pains in the evenings for about a week. I continued with my evening routine; a warm bath, perineal massage, an early night with my favourite affirmations script playing as I fell asleep. I spent my days baking sweet stuff and cooking comfort food for the freezer. I woke up one night and noticed the bright light of the moon casting shadows over the quiet street below. All was calm.

When D finally finished work for the Christmas holidays, everything felt ‘just right.’ It happened to be winter solstice that day. I had a bath and went to bed, leaving D downstairs watching TV. The period pains got stronger and more frequent. Somewhere out in the universe, lighter days were coming and so was Ada. This is it, I thought.

I put my affirmations on and went to sleep. I knew D would be too excited if I told him so I kept the news to myself when I heard him come to bed. I needed him to rest and I was comforted by his peaceful sleepy breathing when I woke a few times in the night, the intensity of the contractions building. I managed sleep on and off until the early hours of the morning, . D woke up at about 9am.

‘It’s happening’, I said.

He helped me downstairs and settled me by the Christmas tree with my TENS machine, yoga bolster and my birthing playlist. I’d planned to be really active at this stage of labour but when it came to it, all I wanted was to be perfectly still with my eyes closed, breathing through the contractions. I felt overwhelmingly nauseous and it was taking a lot of effort to keep on top of the urge to be sick. Over three hours passed like this. I remember feeling very connected to the women in my life and had images of my favourite people passing through my mind. I don’t recall consciously trying to use visualisation techniques, I guess it just happened naturally. David timed my contractions from my breathing and called the hospital and taxi out of earshot so as not to disturb me.

When the taxi arrived, I put an eye mask and headphones on and let D guide me out to the car. He’d spoken to the taxi driver in advance and asked to keep the atmosphere chilled. We drove to the hospital slowly and in silence. I remember the TENS machine being an absolute saviour and was helping me get in to a rhythm with my contractions. When we arrived at triage, I kept my headphones and eye mask on and let David do all the talking. With hindsight, I must have looked pretty funny wearing a massive black shaggy coat, a huge pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a William Morris lavender scented eye mask.

We were eventually shown to the birthing centre, greeted by a midwife and ushered in to a little office. David talked her through my birthing preferences which included that I didn’t want too many vaginal examinations. They clearly didn’t think I was in established labour as I could hear the midwife saying, ‘I just think you’ll be more comfortable at home. I can’t really let you stay here I’m afraid…’
(NB: I was still wearing the eye mask, headphones and refusing to look at or speak to anyone)

I reluctantly agreed to a vaginal examination at this point and can honestly say that it was the most unpleasant part of my whole labour. It took all my effort to lie back on the bed and felt like such an invasion of the little bubble I’d created for myself. Suddenly, the midwives tone totally changed…

‘Ok. You’re 8 centimeters. Let’s get that pool ready.’
She pulled her gloves off so fast, KY jelly flicked in D’s face.

My contractions were now coming thick and fast. I felt like I was in a rough sea being battered by waves and struggling to stay afloat. As they were filling the pool, I was so attached to the comfort of the TENS machine, I was scared about taking it off... That was until I felt the effects of the warm water.

As soon as I got in to the birthing pool, my shoulders dropped. I felt weightless and calm. The surge in relaxation triggered a dramatic shift in my labour and I felt totally overwhelmed for the first time. I could literally feel Ada descending down the birth canal and I remember shaking my head.

The midwife said something like, ‘Don’t shake your head, it only feels like that because it’s supposed to… you can do this!’

I felt very comforted by her words. It reminded me that there was nothing to fear. It was supposed to be like this. Intense. Big. Powerful.
All was as it should have been.

I’d positioned myself on my knees in the water with my arms around David’s neck, clinging on for dear life. Every downward surge was compressing the air out of me. I certainly didn’t need to push. My body was squeezing my baby out whether I liked it or not.

There aren’t really the words to describe the final moments, and I wish I was a good enough writer to do it justice. My labour had been pretty calm until now but I suddenly felt I might turn inside out or explode with the intensity of the final stages. It felt like the entire universe passed through us both. One moment we were one. The same organism. Then we were two.
She emerged out of the water, a higher power, a little creature from another world. She was so familiar, and yet a total stranger.

As soon as she was in my arms, the mind-blowing intensity of what just happened totally left my body. I’d been in another world and came back to earth changed forever.