Birth journeys
Birth is a unique experience for every parent and child. Liz Thompson followed four couples as they prepared for, experienced, and reflected upon the birth of their first child.
Times have changed, and with them the experiences of and options for birthing. Everyone has very different hopes and expectations prior to the birth of their first child – here, we accompany four couples through the emotional and physical realities of pregnancy and labour.
Caroline Gibbes, 43, and Drew Skinner, 44, have been together for six years. They started trying to conceive five years ago, but had two miscarriages in the first year. Eventually they decided to attempt IVF treatment, but endured six failed procedures before they were told the best option was to try using donor eggs.
Neisha, a close friend of Caroline’s, offered to donate eggs to the couple and after a lengthy process, 22 eggs were harvested and fertilised with Drew’s sperm, from which 12 embryos ultimately resulted. One of these embryos was transferred to Caroline’s womb, while the rest were frozen. It’s not uncommon for embryos to not survive the defrosting process, and six transfers later, Caroline and Drew were down to their last three.
After so much emotional and physical trauma, the couple were close to giving up and starting the adoption process, but eventually made the decision to try one last time, and to transfer two embryos at once. Ten days later, Caroline received the news she was pregnant, and that, judging by certain hormonal levels, it was likely to be a multiple pregnancy.
Because Caroline was 43 and the process of conception had already been so perilous and emotionally draining, she and Drew were advised that it would be best for her health, and the health of their unborn babies, for the twins to be born by caesarean section. The couple readily accepted this advice, but at 33 weeks, Caroline began having contractions. She went straight to hospital, where the staff managed to stop the contractions, then gave her steroid injections to help the babies’ lungs develop. Caroline then returned home, with everyone hoping she would reach 36 weeks before the twins needed to be delivered.
However at 34 weeks exactly, Caroline noticed the leakage of some meconium. She was rushed to hospital, where the doctors decided to perform an emergency caesarean. “We had anticipated that we’d swan in at the appointed hour all fresh and rested,” laughs Caroline now. “We’d have a caesar, Drew would be next to me talking me through it, I wouldn’t feel anything and it would be just gorgeous – well, as gorgeous as it can be when you are having your gut cut open! But it didn’t really go like that… What we have learned from this whole baby experience is you just never know what’s going to happen!”
Caroline was given a spinal block as there wasn’t time for an epidural. (With a spinal block, medication is given only once, whereas with an epidural, a catheter is inserted into the spine so that additional medicine may be dispensed at a later time.) As the procedure begun, Drew was ushered in to hold Caroline’s hand.
“I could feel them cutting through the first two layers of my stomach and I grabbed the anaesthetist and said, ‘Am I supposed to be feeling this?’” Caroline recalls. “He said, ‘No, stop, we’re going to have to go to general’. He slammed this thing over my nose and said, ‘Breathe really deeply – you’ve got to fill your lungs for the babies’. Next thing I knew, I was gone, and that’s all I remember until the next day.”
Caroline was now unconscious and the surgeons were moving quickly. In what seemed like only a matter of minutes, a tiny baby emerged under the bright lights and was quickly whisked away to a humidicrib. Drew stood in the middle of the theatre, camera in hand, eyes moving rapidly from his unconscious wife to his newborn infant, his face travelling through a myriad of emotions in a matter of seconds – joy, disbelief, anxiety, confusion and back to joy as the second tiny baby appeared above the curtain separating those at the ‘top end’ from those at the surgical coalface. It was, he says, an extremely intense experience.
“A lot of people say that as [the baby] comes out you see the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and instantly fall in love, but in this case there was just too much going on. There was no instant connection – there was instant amazement, I suppose, but it was all too busy and clinical for me to feel much else.”
The babies were rushed to intensive care, where they had intravenous antibiotics administered. Some time later, Caroline was wheeled in semi-conscious to look at them, but the next day she was unable to remember much as the anaesthetic had left her so groggy. “I have hazy memories of a little foot in the nursery, and of Mum stroking my head, which was beautiful, but that’s all I remember of the whole day,” she says frankly.
It wasn’t until nearly two days later that nurses in the intensive care unit tucked the tiny bundles, now named Jesse and Eve, into the arms of Caroline and Drew, and the moment they had waited for for so many years seemed to fully manifest itself.
“When the love bond did kick in it was just amazing,” says Drew. “It was just such a complete change from this lacking, needing feeling – this hole in our life – to it being so complete...”
“It’s overwhelming,” adds Caroline. “I knew there was this basic need in me, but this has blasted me to another planet.”
Caroline was able to return home after seven days, but Jesse and Eve had to remain in hospital for four weeks. Caroline travelled to visit them each day, along with an esky filled with expressed milk so she could feed her girls. Both she and Drew say the staff at the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital were amazing during this time, looking after both them and their children.
In reflecting upon the birth now, Caroline says it’s become just a distant, relatively unimportant memory. “I didn’t care how it panned out, so long as the girls were safe and well and I survived to look after them… Now they are finally here, there is no greater love in the world,” she smiles.
Natal numbers
- In 2003 in Australia, 256,925 babies were born to 252,584 mothers.
- The average age of all mothers in this year was 29.5 years, with the average age of first-time mothers 27.6 years. Mothers aged less than 20 years accounted for 4.6 per cent, or 11,617, of all births.
- One in 25 mothers (4 per cent) in 2003 intended prior to the birth of their child to give birth outside of a conventional labour-ward setting, such as in a birth centre or at home. In the event, only 2.8 per cent did so.
- In 2003, 60.3 per cent of women giving birth had a spontaneous vaginal birth, with 0.4 per cent having a vaginal breech birth. Forceps delivery occurred with 3.9 per cent of mothers, and 6.8 per cent gave birth with the help of vacuum extraction. Meanwhile, 28.5 per cent of mothers had caesarean section deliveries, compared with 19.4 per cent in 1994.
Statistics sourced from a report by the National Perinatal Statistics Unit (www.npsu.unsw.edu.au)
Words: Liz Thompson. Photography: Sam McAdam. Hair & Make-up: David Novak-Piper.
Your say
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After a traumatic vaginal birth experience (aren't they all?) with my son I also decided to have an elective caeserian for my daughter. I found most of the staff at the hospital to be very supportive but every now and then I would come up against an old fashioned doctor (usually old or male or both) that would give me the third degree on why I "needed" this. I would relate my story of my first birthing experience and the post natal depression that followed but was still frowned upon.
I have two sisters who are mothers and nurses - one being a midwife - who literally said they thought I was crazy. I told them it was crazy to volunteer to go through vaginal birth again! My mother on the other hand was immensly supportive of my decision. After having four children of her own she agreed it seemed archaic to be going through vaginal birth when there is a much safer, predictible and less painful alternative. She is also a nurse.
I meet with a group of women whom I met as part of a PND group and we have remained close friends. After being with me through the hard times with my first child and having had bad experiences themselves they congratulated me on my decision to take control of the situation.
The "abdominal birth" (as one midwife put it to me in hospital - a term that I love!) went absolutely textbook and was such a happy experience that I didn't sleep a wink that night. I just sat up staring at my new daughter. I spent the full five days in hospital even thought they said I could have an early discharge ( I did have a three year old at home after all!) and I spent it soaking up the miracle of my baby's arrival. I felt no less bonded to her for not going through a vaginal birth and a year later I know I made the right decision for the whole family. I have suffered no PND and recovered from the operation very quickly - quicker in fact than the first birth. I am a happier mum for it. And you know what they say....when Mum's happy, EVERYONE'S HAPPY!
So thank you Katherine and Josh for sharing your story. I hope people - particularly other women - learn to except everyones choice of birth without judgement. After all; it's not how the babies come into the world that is important. It's how we care for them once they are here. : )
I have two amazing birth stories, one of my own mother, the other one I witnessed.
My mother was born on a farm, outside of a small town in KwaZulu Natal in South African in 1926 (we think it is 26 it could have even been 25). My grandmother was living in Durban at the time but had decided to go home to her mother for the birth of her child.
My great-grandmother ran the family farm on her own as my great-grandfather had passed away, with the help of workers. My grandmother was out "supervising" the workers, as my great-grandmother was a sangomas (zulu healer & herbalist) and was visiting a patient on another farm. Granny started to go into labour, in the middle of a field. The worker women stopped their work to help her give birth. From what my granny told me mum was born at mid-day as the sun was directly overhead, and mum's cord was cut with ribbon grass. Mum was also born with a cowl, which one of the workers kept for my great-grandmother to dry, as far as I know the placenta was also kept to be cooked for granny to eat.
At my mother's funeral in 2004, my brother told everybody the version he had been told - that Mum was born in the laundry with help - that is what Mum had told him - I got my version from my grandmother when I was about 6.
My brother was the first member of the family born in a hospital in 1945 (in Durban), I followed on along nearly 25 years later - born quite happily in a hospital in London.
When I was backpacking through Africa in 1994 I saw some strange and wonderful things. One thing that stuck in my mind was when we were in Uganda.
A group of us were going to go on a monkey hike (as in a hike to go and see monkeys - not act like monkeys and go hiking!), so we had to meet our guide in a small village about 20 mins walk from where we were camped. There was about 6 of us wandering along the road. Coming the other way was a family walking by the side of the road. The man was out in front, a few of the kids behind him and then about 15 steps behind was a visibly pregnant woman, who kept on slowing down and almost bending over in pain.
We continued walking towards them, and as we came up to them we tried to get eye contact with the man, to see if we could do anything to help. He refused to look us in the eye, so we didn't press the point.
We passed the family, the woman looking in quite a bit of pain but still walking (also think she may have had a parcel on her head - think packhorse), we kept on walking up the hill to meet our guide.
We had to walk back down the hill, in the direction of the family to get to the opening in the jungle that we needed to go thru. Along the way we saw a pool of blood by the side of the road and ribbon grass with blood on it. About 200m up the road there was the family, we could see the woman had blood all over the back of her dress and was carrying a newborn, still covered in blood.
I know that the ribbon grass was used to cut the cord as one of my great-grandmother's workers used the same thing to cut my mother's cord when she was born in the middle of a field in ZuluLand South Africa in the 1920s. Also there would have been no placenta (or cord) left behind as it is usually cooked up and fed to the mother to help with her recovery after the birth.
Come on this is not real life guys, not all vaginal births are traumatic, I have had 3 children, all natural, no drugs gas or Dr's present, I used natural remedies to get through the pain, and it went fine, no trauma to myself or the babies, who were born bright and alert.
It is a real dissapointment to hear people like Josh saying "it is ridiculous to put a womans body through that horrific process when a big percentage have caesarean's anyway"!!
For the women that need them for medical reasons and prior traumatic vaginal birth fair enough you have my supoort 100% but too encourage people to have them and scare other 1st time mothers, I would imagine that a caesarean is more of a horrific process.
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