After almost 2 years of trying to conceive, here I was pregnant and loving it. Not so much the 6 months of morning sickness and vomiting, but the kicking and movements within me, the ever expanding baby bump, and the growing anticipation of meeting my precious baby. Being my first pregnancy, I was naturally very anxious and excited to meet my little boy that I had so desperately longed for.
37 weeks pregnant, and at my final checkup before going into labour, my doctor did her usual checks and confirmed that his head was engaged in my pelvis, and my body was starting to prepare itself for delivery. Yay! Everything was going according to plan.
My birth plan was this:
1. Have my waters break at home while Andre is there so we can calmly head to to the hospital (I’d been praying specifically for this as I was scared of being alone and going into labour)
2. Go to the hospital with my neatly packed and highly organised hospital bag I’d prepared weeks earlier
3. Be admitted and given an epidural
4. Have a short and easy delivery with minimal recovery time and a healthy baby
HA! (That’s my birth plan laughing in my face)
Here’s how my birth plan actually played out:
At 11pm as I was getting into bed, my fore waters broke and I started having light contractions.
I told Andre, rang the hospital and we were out the door, only to find that the lifts in our building had broken down and we’d have to use the stairs.
We were on the ELEVENTH floor.
So here I am in early labour, sweating and waddling down 11 flights of stairs. ELEVEN.
We arrive at the hospital and even though my contractions have stopped, I’m admitted because there’s risk of infection once your waters have broken.
The nurses check me and the baby and tell me the baby’s head is engaged and in the right position for birth. Good. All going according to plan so far. A junior nurse then has a feel of my pelvic region and decides to do a scan as she suspects the baby’s head is not engaged. Huh? They just told me it was!
We get a shock when the scan reveals that baby’s head is up near my ribs, and baby’s butt is engaged in my pelvis! They had been mistaking his buns of steel for his head.
Staff come to advise us that a c- section is preferable because of the dangers of a breech birth naturally, but that it is my choice.
I can’t sleep all night because my beloved birth plan is spiralling out of my control and I’m terrified of both options. Both of a c – section, which I hadn’t prepared mentally for, and of attempting what sounded like a dangerous natural birth. I do alot of praying, crying, tossing and turning throughout the night.
The next morning, a specialist breech doctor (who just so happened to be working at the hospital that day and was not normally on shift – thank you JESUS) came to visit me and offer his services.
First, he stuck his hand right up my hooha. HELLO! Nice to meet you.
He had a feel of my pelvis and seemed to believe that I could push him out naturally, if I wanted to do so. He left the choice with me.
After crying, praying, walking, and calling mum, I made the decision to attempt a natural breech birth.
18 hours since my labour began, I was given Pitocin to speed things up. The pain skyrocketed and was unbelievable! The most intense pain I had ever felt in my life.
I receive an epidural and am asked to “hold still” while the contractions feel like someone’s twisting a knife in my abdomen with full force. Sure, I can hold still!
The amazing epidural kicks in and I have a short nap. My first small chunk of sleep in over 30 hours.
I wake up to extreme pressure in what feels like my bum, and the urge to push.
The specialist breech doctor comes in, asks me why I look terrified (really?) and tells me it’s time to have a baby.
Andre and mum are in the room with me, mum by my head telling me everything’s gonna be OK, Andre by my knees, helping to push them back.
Then the doctor realises I am going to tear badly, so he performs an Episiotomy. He says to Andre before cutting, ‘look away’ but Andre doesn’t get the memo and looks directly at my hooha when the doc is making the cut! He is still scarred from that experience. (And I was also physically scarred from that experience – 5 months recovery time and several sessions of silver nitrate treatment to burn off scar tissue. WORST. EXPERIENCE. EVER.)
The doc tells me when to push and I scream out of absolute fear and terror while I push.
After a few pushes I feel a release and realise that Dreyson’s tiny bum and legs have been pushed out and on my next push, I will meet my baby boy.
The final push is the hardest because the head is the toughest part to push out, and being breech, this part came last for me instead of first.
When that final release came after pushing so hard, and the doctor lumped a crying baby on my chest, it was an intense and overwhelming experience.
He was so tiny, he was so.. real. No longer was it “when the baby comes..” No. That baby was here! In the flesh! And crying! And needing me to do something!
It was amazing to bring forth such a miracle. He latched straight on to me and I marvelled at how incredible God is to have created such a perfect being. How he could turn a group of tiny cells into this living, breathing, beautiful child with perfectly functioning organs and muscles all working together to sustain his life!
I also could not believe how tired and drained I felt. I was shaking. I was also starving, so I had some toast. And immediately threw it back up.
The nurses measured him, tested him, weighed him, helped me shower, and I watched as Andre held his son for the first time. It makes me teary just remembering that special moment! He had wanted to hold his son for a long time.
Dreyson was 2.8 kilos & 51cm long of pure goodness. And a little ball of muscles!
Giving birth to Dreyson is one of the most important things I’ve ever done in my life.
Not only was Dreyson’s birth an incredible event that resulted in the sweetest son I could have ever hoped for, but it was also the fruit of a promise given to me by God, after struggling to conceive. He settles the childless woman in her home, as a joyful mother of children. Praise the Lord Psalm 113:9
Dreyson has brought me joy every day of his life, and just looking at him reminds me of the goodness of God.
Every good and perfect gift comes from above. – James 1:17