Real birth stories…
Childbirth can be a frightening, exciting, wonderful roller-coaster of emotions! Here we share some fabulous birth stories kindly shared by our readers!
Michael Jackson delivered my baby!
I have one son, who was born in April 2007!
My advice to any mum-to-be would be don’t worry! I would have a baby again, no problem at all!
It’s amazing how I was worried about labour – the being naked and body functions (!) beforehand, yet at the time I didn’t think of any of this!
My waters broke at 7am and it woke me up! My other half was sleeping in the other room as my snoring had been so bad! I woke him up to tell him that something was happening and he jumped up and started panicking!
I said I had no pains and the pregnancy unit for non-urgent wasn’t open until 9am, so we went back to bed for an hour or so!
we headed into hospital later, and they confirmed my waters had broken. I had a few problems with my blood pressure when I was pregnant so they wanted to take me in there and then to observe me. This was a problem!
We were suppose to be moving house and the contract had arrived that morning in the post, so I asked them if we could come back at 2! They looked at me like I was mad!
Well, we went to get the contract witnessed, went out for lunch (still no pain!) and then went back to the hospital for 2pm!! I must say that we had a lovely lunch but we didn’t say a word! I think the realisation of having a baby was dawning!
To cut a long story short, I was induced 2 days later and hit the ceiling very quickly!
My husband arrived and I grabbed him by the neck and told him to organise painrelief!
The midwife ran me a bath and told me to deal with my pain better!
I was one of thise people who was going to keep all of my clothes on until the last minute. however, that all changed very quickly! I was naked in the bath and the gas and air ran out – so I pulled the emergency cord and they told me the delivery room was ready for me!
I stood up, got out of the bath and stepped out into the corridor-naked!
the midwife held a towel infront of me and my husband had a towel behind me!! I ran to the delivery room, jumped on the bed (to the gas and air!) So much for keeping modest!
I was at 6 cm within 40 mins of being induced! I started to push and they told me I couldn’t yet so again to cut a story short, I had an epidural.
The consultant was just outside, came in and introduced himself as Michael Jackson!! Which I thought was hilarious!!
Within 3 hours my son was born! I felt him coming out and felt a little pain but it was stunning. He then cried for 30 minutes until my mum came in and as soon as she cuddled him he stopped. They still have the most amazing relationship.
I must say the orange juice and toast I had after the birth was heaven!!!!
‘After 7 years trying for a baby – I just wanted to meet her!’
Fourty weeks is a very long time to wait especially when you have already waited seven years.
I had wanted a baby for seven years and four years previously undergone three sessions of IUI unsuccessfully. I had in my heart given up on it happening.
It did happen and without any help, unless you count a birthday meal and an exceptional bottle of wine.
So here I was fourty weeks and still counting. Everyday you are overdue feels like an eternity. I cried when my midwife told me the induction date was day fourteen not day twelve due to a weekend, two more days was forever.
My second overdue midwife appointment I had considered a cash bribe for a closer date. I had a sweep and nothing not a thing was saying my body was ready to give up this baby yet. I was gutted and stomped off to do a urine sample for my protein check. It wasn’t good and she sent me into the hospital for a blood test to check it again. Take a bag they advised in case we keep you in.
At the hospital my blood was taken and while waiting for the results the midwife and her trainee wired me up to a monitor. My mum could hear the baby’s heart beat in the waiting room where she was sat with my case. I chatted to the trainee about her course and juggling kids with college.
I noticed the monitors tracking had stopped and asked if I should move to re find it and the trainee did some jiggling of the pads, then she called the midwife who did the same, they reclined the chair and moved the pads some more. Their faces started to say much more than their words.
‘Upstairs’ was called. ‘We are taking you up we need to use another monitor. Baby is being awkward’. I was moved into a wheelchair and zoomed past my mum in the waiting room to the lift. In the lift the midwife didn’t say that much and Mum was almost in tears. I however was a vision of calmness. I knew this baby was fine.
In the delivery room another monitor was attached, it didn’t work so another was brought in, everyone was looking very stressed. Pads were wiggled, I was wiggled. The speakers burst into life ‘badoom, badoom, badoom….’ there she was.
The hospital kept me on monitor for the whole day even though she was text book for the rest of the day. My bloods came back fine. I was twitching to go home but no one would let me. I had to stay over night, I was not happy. Jamie came to see me after he got back from London and then went home to bed. Mum brought me KFC which I ate and then promptly sat myself at the nurses station begging to go home.
‘I’m not even being monitored what is the point?’ was met with a nurse and a hand held monitor. She lost the baby again, so went and got me another big monitor and left me with it on ‘badoom, badoom, badoom….’ Everyone in the ward was badooming away, it was very weird.
Listening to all the noise on the ward you hear snippets of conversations. I overheard a girl opposite call a nurse and say she thought the heartbeat was really fast that she’d got used to the normal rate and this was really fast. The nurse agreed and thanked the girl. My curtain shot open, she was talking about my baby. My print out was looked at, my volume turned down. ‘Is everything ok?’ I asked. I was still really calm and not at all concerned I think denial had kicked in to stop me stressing. The nurse dashed out then back and informed me that someone from ‘Upstairs ‘was coming down.
The doctor arrived took one look at my print outs and told me ‘We are taking the baby out’ I actually tried to get him to discuss a compromise ‘Shall we go up and talk about it, then I’ll call my boyfriend?’ ‘No, he has one hour to be here and we are taking the baby out’ Oh right then.
I was rushed upstairs, I was now just massively excited about it all happening I had no worries about the c-section even though I am a massive needle phobia freak and hate even the idea of operations.
I felt as though this was my journey to hold my baby and I needed to just shut up and let it flow. So I did in the calmest manner…I called Jay who was asleep and told him I was having a c-section he needed to be here ASAP. That everything was fine but to hurry. A few moments later I called him back to tell him to bring the baby bag. He was asleep again ‘Is this really happening?’ he asked. Err yes.
When he arrived they threw scrubs at him and we laughed at the idea of him wearing Crocs in theatre… Looking back the nurses seemed a bit confused by my laid back manner, but I was in the zone and like I said I knew this baby was fine.
We went into theatre and I had the epidural, which I had spent 9 months fretting over. I did not bat an eyelid, your body and brain are amazing things, it was needed and they accommodated. My hands shook violently from the epidural and I repeated again and again to Jay ‘I don’t like the way it feels’ as they delivered Tabitha. Jay stood to see her arrive and held her once she was checked over. I felt too shaky still to hold her but looked over and straight away saw my own face in hers. ‘She has my nose’ was the best I could do.
It turned out my waters had gone, no one knows when or where. Tabitha had been choking herself on her cord, possibly at one KFC too many. She was a drama queen from the start!
‘Damon Albarn was in my kitchen!’
I wasn’t really worried about labour during my pregnancy with my little girl Betsy. I think I was concerned about her well being, but the pain didn’t really worry me at all.
I’ve always had a high pain threshold (I broke my arm once and carried on working for a few hours until I realised it actually was hurting rather a lot!) So I opted for a homebirth.
A homebirth was ideal for me for two reasons. One- I hate hospitals and two – I really hate hospitals!
My midwife was very supportive, and I kept praying I’d make it to the 37 week cut off point! (Before this you have to go into hospital!)
Ten days overdue, and Betsy was quite comfy inside, not wanting to make an appearance, so I tried every remedy going to give her a little nudge! From curry to sex and then the fab clary sage – I’d tried everything! She finally decided at 2am on 18th September 2009 that she would make a start into the world.
I was so excited that I phoned my mum (who was coming from Dorset to London to be my birth partner alongside my lovely hubby) my mum-in-law, my best friend and then informed facebook that I was in labour! My husband was amazed at my control and calmness!
After breakfast (which my waters broke into!) things started to move along pretty quickly and I popped into my pool enjoying the gas & air a little too much! At one point I was so away with it on the gas and air, that I was convinced that Damon Albarn was in my kitchen, and was concerned I had no pants on!
By lunchtime, in my front room, in my birthing pool, I was ready to push! I was so excited- I was finally going to meet the kicking wriggler that had been inside me all these months!
Betsy had other ideas.
Mid pushing (and half way down the birth canal) her heart rate dropped and we had to go to hospital by ambulance. I must say here – this was the only bad thing about labour – I was scared she was unwell, and it was agony to have to stop pushing!
A happy ending – Little Betsy arrived in hospital with no intervention, no drugs, and no problems. A healthy little girl! My second baby, Oscar, was born almost exactly a year later on 17th September 2010. You can that story here or scroll below!
‘It was the worst and scariest two days of my life!’
At ten days overdue with my second baby Caleb I was admitted to the local maternity hospital here in Ayrshire.
I’d had a lovely birth experience with my daughter Sophie 11 years previously so had no worries or nerves at all. I just couldn’t wait to get my lovely boy out and home. I had been induced with Sophie at 22 days overdue and was adamant that I didn’t want to go that long with him as he was already huge from my scan.
The hospital was fairly new, 2 years old and very modern inside with all new mod cons.
When we arrived we were directed to the ward which was a four to a room ward with ensuite bathroom. The nurses station was in the middle of the main hallway which was huge and covered the whole maternity floor.
I was induced at 2.30pm and my contractions started at 6pm. Come 6am in the morning I was moved to the labour ward where I was told they weren’t real contractions and false labour and so was given more of the induction drug and sent back to the ward.
My husband went home and got a couple of hours sleep and headed back around 10am laden with goodies. We were both still very excited!
At this point I should tell you, my husband is a policeman and had worked in a drug Squad in the town where the hospital was now bases. On my maternity notes my community midwife had noted this down and said that I should be allocated a private room in case of him being recognised by anyone he may have had to deal with I the past. This didn’t happen pre-birth and wasn’t acknowledged at all.
I was just so excited and so desperate to see my little boy that at this point I wasn’t too bothered and when we told the ward sister she assured us after the baby came we’d be given a room.
So, around 12pm a doctor came down to assess me and told me that I was 3cm and could be admitted to the labour ward again. I was told to walk down the stairs and so we packed up and off we went. As I got to the top of the stairs my contractions started coming thick and fast so we got the lift with the help of a lovely orderly.
I was welcomed back to the labour ward and was still really happy to be there and excited. That soon became short lived. Although my contractions were coming every 2 minutes and were bad I was still in good spirits and laughing and joking with people.
First a ward sister came to put an IV in my hand as I was to be given an antibiotic during labour as I had been diagnosed with strep B at 38 weeks. She couldn’t get the IV in at all but insisted in persevering. Eventually when my left hand was pouring blood and swollen like Grapefruit she gave up and moved to my right hand eventually with the help of another nurse it was in.
By this time I was in a lot of pain and also crying as she’d hit bone several times.
Next was the epidural saga. I was talked into taking one as they were going to speed up my labour with a drip so they could measure my antibiotics. I didn’t want one and was shouted down by 2 separate midwifes. So the saga began. A trainee anaesthetist was called down and she took 11 attempts to get the tube in my back, stopping every minute for my contractions. She also kept hitting a nerve which made excruciating pain in my right thigh and hip. After half an hour I was begging them to stop and leave me alone.
My poor husband who held my hand throughout was so upset and supporting me the whole time. I was told by the midwifes to stop ‘being silly’ and the girls boss was called down to try. She got it in on her 3rd attempt, or so we thought.
For around 15 minutes I had relief and my other IV was attached to speed things along. Soon after though the pain started coming back and I told me midwife. She topped up the epidural with a button above my head and I could feel it running down my back.
When my midwife left to go and get something I told my husband I could feel it wearing off and my back was wet. He checked and said the tube was out and that I had to tell the midwife. The pain started coming fast and the cocktail of IV’s I was on was making me feel sick and woozy. I begged my husband not to tell the midwife about the epidural though as I was terrified of them trying to get it back in again. I went through another hour of labour and started feeling really ill and sick. At 8pm I told my husband to grab a sick bowl, and told the midwife I could feel the babies head. She poo poo’d me as Id been 5cm when she checked me 5 minutes before. 30seconds later I was sick and out shot my son all 8lb 14oz of him. I was ecstatic but just wanted to go home straight away.
I was stitched up and taken for a shower. All IV’s and tubes removed and and baby cleaned up. My husband was just in shock. I think the whole thing was so traumatic for him he was exhausted.
I was taken up to a ward with another 3 girls for the night and as soon as I got there I wanted out. My husband was sent home instantly and rudely and I was put in a bed and left. There were 3 babies and one was going through withdrawal which meant it screamed like you’ve never heard before all night. Caleb slept but I felt sick and wanted to go home. I lay in bed and cried all night.
At one point he threw up in his bassinet and I needed help with him as I didn’t feel good at all. I had to carry him, bleeding and exhausted along the outside corridor to get help as my buzzer didn’t work. I wasn’t leaving my baby in the ward with drug addicts alone. When I came back to the ward there were two girls in the bathroom smoking which meant the whole ward was full of smoke. I told the nurse and she had a word and also told the girl with the screaming baby to attend to him. Needless to say this didn’t work at all. I was told I had to pee ASAP in a container so I staggered into the bathroom and found it covered in blood and used sanitary towels. The toilet was covered as were the walls, sink and shower. That was it for me. I went back to my bed and text my husband and told him to come sign us out. I wanted home.
He arrived 2 hours later and told the nurse he was taking us home now. At which point the was told we would have to see the doctor and then hopefully we could go. Caleb still hadn’t fed at this point. He was full of gunk and kept just throwing it up. The doctor told us we could go home when he fed.
We went back to the ward and at this point my husband realised he recognised and had dealt with at least 2 of the girls in there and their partners. It was obvious they recognised him and that was it for us. We found a midwife who was sympathetic to us and begged her to help. She told us we had to get Caleb feeding now.
We spent the next 3 hours with her on and off, trying to force milk down his throat but he just kept throwing it back up. Eventually my husband drank 2oz of the milk himself and we were cleared to go. This was at 5pm and he had been born at 8pm the night before.
It was the worst and scariest 2 days of my life. After such a lovely birth with my daughter 11 years before I was genuinely in shock for weeks after, at the state of the hospital, and the treatment I was given. The feeding of my baby was another story I will share but the whole experience has left me scared and upset. I so want more children but the thought of ever being in that place again or going through what I went through leaves me cold.
My darling son Oscar, born September 17th 2010 at 3.42pm had a very exciting first week of life!
From radio interviews to TV shoots we became the talk of the media world after the decision to Tweet my birth went global!
So, my #twitterbirth…
It’s caused quite a stir in the media world, and not one I was prepared for!
I decided to tweet my labour not to ‘dispel birthing myths’ as many newspapers said, and not to ‘promote pain relief free labour’ as others insisted on writing about, but simply to share a positive home- birth experience with those that WANTED to follow.
I didn’t ask the world to get involved (the story reached Japan, Australia and even the New York Times) and I didn’t expect anyone other than Childcare is fun followers to get involved.
However, the media picked up my story and off it flew! Printed (with many errors) in practically every paper and online offering, for people to pull apart to their hearts content (perhaps with no consideration to what they were saying about a mum who had just given birth and was perhaps a little delicate?)
I’m so lucky. I know I am- I want people to know that I know I’m lucky! I loved my home-birth. It was everything I wanted it to be. It was fantastic (yes I’m shouting it out loud and proud!)
From laughing with the midwives and my darling husband (who has been my rock through all of this) to discussing the evenings after – labour tea (I was desperate for fish and chips,) it was a truly positive, empowering experience.
When things got a little tough I’d tweet and there were these amazing tweets full of positivity and kindness, it was fantastic.
Now social networking isn’t everyones cup of tea, and that’s fine. If you don’t like it, don’t do it! I didnt ask the world to follow my birth, I decided I would share it, I told my followers I would, and that was that. The response from 1,250 followers was positive, and has been ever since Oscar was born.
Sadly, there have been a few grump – bags that have decided to poop on my positivity. The cruelest comments are from those who have taken the time to trash my story of positive birthing with negative horror birthing stories – then beating up my character with nasty comments such as ‘freak – put the phone down’ and ‘attention seeker’ and name calling such as ‘tweeting twit’. There are many more that I wont write here as they are too upsetting.
There have been some lovely follow up stories to poop on the nasties, and these are what I focus on.
I’ve also received some lovely messages, well wishes, and gifts for Oscar from the #twitterbirth followers! (Many thanks to Speed communications for their lovely box of Tesco goodies for little man that arrived today!)
So, to set the story straight for those that were a little daft and took EVERYTHING the papers said as the truth…
1. My story wasn’t about being brave – women have babies everyday! It’s not a new thing!
2. It wasn’t about promoting drug free births- I had a homebirth, you can’t have drugs at a homebirth! If you need drugs then have them!! It’s your body, your labour!! My #twitterbirth wasn’t about that. It was about promoting a positive home-birth experience!
3. I’m not the first #twitterbirth, that was in 2007.
4. I wasn’t saying hospitals are for the weak and homebirth is better. I said I LIKE to be at home, I don’t like hospitals, so for me a homebirth was the only choice. My #twitterbirth wasn’t about that. It was about promoting a positive home-birth experience!
5. I’m not the longest labour ever, it was actually a ‘normal’ labour at 14 hours, unlike my mothers labours which were 27, 26, and 32 hours ACTIVE drug free labour. (Yes- she is a hero!) So, you see – My #twitterbirth wasn’t about that. It was about promoting a positive home-birth experience!
6. I’ve had a baby- it’s a big deal to me, my husband and my family because we thought we could never have children and have been blessed with two in one year. To others- it’s no big deal, and I appreciate that, but my #twitterbirth wasn’t about that. It was about promoting a positive home-birth experience (has it sunk in yet?)
7. I’m not a hippy, lentil eating, potato growing, organic only eating, numpty. I’m a mum of two, who runs a fun and informative website, that decided one day to help the hundreds of frightened pregnant women who email me regularly about their fears of childbirth. My #twitterbirth was about that. It was about promoting a positive home-birth experience!
8. There were more than 9 tweets!
For those that missed the Tweets here they are!
@Childcareisfun – Tweets 17th September 2010
Then my darling husband @richiestone took over…
Yes, I know…He managed 2 tweets!
And finally back to me…
#twitterbirth Introducing Oscar John Michael Victor Stone, 7.9 born at 3.42pm at home I’m shattered and sore but the happiest mummy on the planet! http://yfrog.com/n4ufzsj 5:44 PM Sep 17th via Twitterrific
After that, my mum and dad, my in-laws and my beautiful daughter all came to meet and cuddle Oscar.
I ignored the constant phonecalls and emails from newspapers and radio stations and we had fish and chips for tea and an early night.
My home-birth was wonderful and I’m glad I had the opportunity to share it with you. The majority of feedback has been fantastic, the positive messages have been lovely and so welcoming kept me going this week when the grump bags of media monsters attacked me and my family!
Thanks to all of my lovely @childcareisfun followers – You were great with your advice and support on the day, and your kind words since, have been so lovely.
My pregnancy with Eliza was closely monitored as I had gestational diabetes (I had this with Isaac too)
From 20 weeks I was put on insulin as I was unable to control my sugars with just diet and as such I was told that I would be induced two weeks early as babies tend to be bigger and there is a higher risk of complications.
I was booked to be induced on 24th January.
The hospital asked me to go in on Sunday 23rd January at lunchtime but I refused as my Dad was visiting from Cyprus so I had arranged for the family to visit so they could see him as he hadn’t been home for 18 months! There was me 38 weeks pregnant cooking for 16 (mad woman)
I arrived at the hospital at 7pm, was shown to my bed for the night and waited to be strapped to monitors so they could trace the baby before giving me a pessary to soften the cervix. It turns out I was already having contractions so I couldn’t have it!!
Hubby went home and I resigned myself to pacing the corridor for the night. Sadly my body settled down and the contractions stopped so I got some much needed sleep.
6am I was rudely awoken by the midwife and strapped up to the monitors again. No sign of any contractions so they could give me the pessary.
I pottered around the ward, had some breakfast and waited for hubby to come in after he had dropped the kids at school. He finally arrived after stopping for magazines and food (for him). I was having niggles but nothing major and was causing lots of jokey comments in the ward as I was using my birthing ball a bit like a space hopper!
We decided to go for a walk into Poole in the hope that it would get things moving. It worked quickly so we decided to head back to the hospital.
Having been induced with Isaac and having a nightmare where the delivery suites were too busy to take me downstairs I really wasn’t hopeful for the baby to arrive today, however when we got back to the ward a midwife was waiting for me!
Off we toddled downstairs and got comfy in the room. The midwife was an older lady and very experienced. She listened to me as I explained that with Isaac I was hooked up to a drip in each arm – one for glucose one for the “go faster juice” as I call it which i found it too intense (he was born within two hours after what felt like one continuous contraction)
She decided that I could try without that and an glucose drip as long as I tested my blood every 15 minutes and she monitored me closely. I was really happy with this as I would be able to move around more freely than last time.
I was having mild contractions still so she examined me and I was about 1cm dilated so she was able to break my waters. Never the nicest experience I must admit and I think even she was surprised by the amount of water there was!
It was about 3pm by now and I was hooked up to the monitor but able to stand by the bed or sit on the birthing ball.
The contractions started coming regularly now but were only lasting 30 seconds and were not strong in my opinion although we’re every 2-3 minutes. I was busy watching the monitor getting frustrated that they didn’t appear to be doing anything.
We were all laughing and joking, talking about One born every minute and some of the antics on there. After an hour the contractions were getting stronger but still manageable so hubby disappeared to make sure the kids had been picked up from school.
At 5pm the midwife asked if I minded if he went to get her sandwich and left me under strict instructions to push the buzzer if I felt the urge to push. I thought she must be mad as I didn’t think I was making much progress. Within about 2 minutes of her disappearing I felt the urge to bear down!
Poor midwife came rushing back eating a mouthful of sardine sandwich (I hate the smell of fish)! She helped me clamber back on the bed which wasn’t easy whilst hooked up to the machine and called a colleague for assistance whilst I tested my sugars (again)
We had a visit from the midwife next door to get some equipment and to apologise for the noise coming from next door. The poor woman was constantly screaming!
The urge to push was really strong now so I was told to let my body do what it wanted. So I pushed! I could feel the head coming down and wanted to push again but was told to wait. Now when your body wants to push its pretty damn hard trying now too. So trying to pant and not push with the head where is most hurts was not my idea of fun. It turns out that they wanted to delivery the head slowly as Eliza had her arm up by her head and was coming out in a superman pose!
Once the head was out I was given free reign to push again and she was born at 5.30pm of just 2 hours and 9 minutes of established labour! All by myself with no drugs or pain relief!!
The placenta was delivered quickly and I was left to bond with my new daughter. She fed almost straight away and the midwife disappeared off to an emergency so we were left for a good hour which was wonderful – they did bring me a pot of tea and toast with raspberry jam to enjoy though!
I had a wonderful birth experience and was surprised that I managed it in 2 hours by myself and not hooked up to all sorts of drugs.