My fiance LOVES this photo...


Luke repeatedly states that as much as he cried of happiness for the birth of our son, Oliver, he more-so cried because of how proud and in awe he was of my strength and courage that day.


My water 'popped' at exactly 35 weeks. Thursday 22nd December 2022. THE evening of my last official day at work - so much for having a couple weeks or so to rest and nest. Honestly, at the time I didn't know my water had broke - I actually thought I had developed a little bit of pregnancy incontinence. I was watching tv and laughed and a little bit 'came out'. Then it happened again maybe 20min later. I'm not sure why I couldn't fathom it being my waters, Luke even suggested it but I dismissed the suggestion. Perhaps tmi but it was more a 'sweaty' kind of wet than a 'peed yourself' kinda wet - which is what I thought it would feel like if my waters broke. I went to bed and it happened another 4 or so times, one of those times I 'peed' enough to really wet the bed. Somehow still I wasn't convinced... I wasn't in any pain, but just to be safe I eventually agreed to email my midwife (rule was email for general questions - calls for emergencies).


"This definitely should have been a "call", Ana!", said my amazing MGP Midwife. "I need you to pack your bags and go to the hospital. Maybeeeee it's incontinence, but if I'm right your has water broke, and that's where you'll be for a little while".


So yeah... turns out my water 'popped', not 'broke'. I only had a 'slight leak'. This can happen two ways apparently. Either I've developed an infection in my womb which has caused the pop (and baby is currently at risk of all getting infected) or "it just happens sometimes" (and baby is at risk of a possible infection if I get sick after the fact).


I was officially admitted into hospital around 11pm. A cannula was inserted into my hand -at this point, one of the most painful experiences of my life, but my hypno-birthing class helped me breathe through it. A catheter was inserted -SANS any drugs, so I felt every bit of that awkwardness and the struggles of trying to insert big things into tiny holes. Despite it being December, I was a little bit cold, and I guess nervous because I remember shivering. I tried not to let the fact that the nurse inserting my catheter literally asked the other nurse if 'it was the right hole' bother me... And from that moment on, for at least 4-6 times a day I was prodded and poked by either blood tests, blood pressure test, the pink and blue belt thingy (baby heart rate and my contraction level monitor) and more... but as I said, "it just happens sometimes" and this was all precautionary, baby and I were absolutely fine.


I was told there was a strong chance that my body will naturally go into labour in the first couple day's after my water popped but if I didn't give birth by week 37, then they will induce me. At week 37, a baby is considered full term and the hospital just couldn't risk me possibly getting sick with an infection and in turn infecting baby - so it was agreed, once I reach week 37, I will be induced.


It was the second year in a row that we missed Christmas. This year I was in hospital, the year before we had to isolate because we were covid close-contacts. I spent NYE in hospital with my darling fiance (I'm pretty sure we were both asleep by 10:30, me in bed, he on the fold out armchair). Week 37 was suddenly around the corner so we set a date - January 5th. We kept it a secret from everybody we knew, except for my sister who was going to be in the delivery room with me and Luke as my extra support and comfort.


Between December 23rd 2022 (when I was first admitted into hospital) and January 2nd, everything ran like clockwork. I and baby passed every test with flying colours. I was also getting exciting because baby bump was getting more and more visibly wriggly from earth side and having an anterior placenta I was waiting for it for a very long time and I loved watching my stomach move.


Tuesday January 3rd, 2023. From around midnight January 3rd I started to get super mild cramps that lasted only a brief moment. I didn't think much of it. I felt them a few more times but they occurred at random intervals (sometimes 5mins apart, sometimes 45mins) intuitively wasn't concerned, but it was also the middle of the night so I think I was also just trying to get some sleep. I decided it was probably a good idea to mention it to the nurse that finally woke me up for my 6am tests. She also wasn't concerned.


During the daily routine fetal heart rate and contraction test, for the first time since being admitted, baby's heart rate dropped. Only for a moment but it happened. They kept the bands on me for an extra half hour or so - it didn't happen again. They said it's most likely that baby was squeezing their umbilical cord as they are known to do. Hours pass, Luke is at work, those random-fleeting-barely-even-a-cramp sensations were occurring a little more frequently and slightly longer. I learned they were called 'tightenings' - pretty much mild Braxton Hicks. Later in the afternoon I had to repeat the pink/blue band test (heart rate and contraction test) again again, baby's heart rate fell! I remained super calm and I was reassured everything seemed ok, but you're still never a million percent relaxed. The doctor decided she wasn't going to take any chances - they were bringing my induction forward!


I called Luke. "You might want to leave work soon, they're now inducing me at the earliest chance today". My midwife was also notified. Luke arrived just as they were about to wheel me into the delivery room, I feel it was about 6:30pm. My midwife wasn't too far behind him. My sister was notified that the induction was brought forward a day, but she lives a couple hours away, doesn't drive and it was too late for her to catch the train at that time. She promised she'd be on the first morning train, and we both agreed, being my first baby, odd's are I'd still be in labour by the time she arrives.


Tuesday January 3rd, 2023 - 7:30pm. I was induced at 7:30pm on the dot. My midwife performed a routine cervical dilation check. I was already 1cm. "Great", I thought... it's already in progress.


My birth plan was to ideally be drug-free. I wanted to experience the full raw, natural and animalistic ritual that is birth at least once in my life. I was curious of what my physical and mental limitations were. More correctly, I was curious at how far I could push myself, my body and mind - I desired to understand my potential.


I could not have had a more amazing midwife and I am so grateful I qualified for the MGP Program. My midwife was godsend and truly understood me, my body and respected our plan to be drug-free, though obviously in an emergency I would adapt as necessary. She was a true advocate for us. She once said, and I'll never for it, "I will never recommend or tell you to take anything (drugs), but I will also never deny you if you ask... BUT if I feel like you're doing amazing at the time and perhaps not need it just yet, I will work a little *midwifery magic* to delay the drugs if you're ok with that?"


I love the term 'midwifery magic'. That's exactly what she was performing the whole time and I was definitely onboard with her working it. I didn't want to 'cave in' too soon to drugs if I didn't need to yet (personal preference of course) and I trusted her completely in understanding me, my body and my baby's limitations.


Now when I say 'drug-free', I must admit I did accept gas and had a tens machine, though in my defence, I'm convinced neither worked on me after 30 minutes anyway haha. (TENS machines deliver a small electrical current to the body through electrodes attached to the skin. TENS, is a form of pain relief without medicine). To further strengthen my mind, and body, I also I did a hypno-birthing class with Luke a month or two beforehand (personally, I recommend this course in your second trimester to give you time to practice). My midwife said if she would recommend only one class to an expecting couple, it would be hypno-birthing. Amongst other things, it taught me how to get into the zone and breathe through contractions to lessen the pain. Mind over matter.


So, to get back where I was in my birth story, I was induced, and I was officially having contractions. I was focused on remaining calm and breathing through the labour experience one minute and one contraction at a time.


The next few hours are a little blurry. I remember Luke ordered Macca's for me because I was hungry and he didn't have time to prepare anything else. I remember vomiting at least 2-3 times. I remember as the contractions started getting stronger that they made me feel so light headed that I nearly fainted a few times due to their intensity. I remember Luke being by my side all night - this man is my peace and my rock! - helping me any way I needed. I remember the contractions really getting more and more powerful - I believed everything was ok and progressing along as it should. I was in the zone, breathing through each contraction one after the other after another... the contractions were so intense, it felt like I was barely holding it together for a while, perhaps an hour, if not two.


Oh! I also just remembered - another bit of tmi - I've felt constipated all day but just couldn't go. Every single day since admission I went like clockwork, but the last two days I hadn't gone at all. I kept going to the toilet even when I was still back in my room but I couldn't. We've all read and heard that everyone poops 'a little' during birth - but dang, there was no way I was going to deliver a brick in front of the love of my life and this wonderful woman that is my midwife. I tried so many times during the day and in the delivery room toilet, but it just wouldn't happen. I was going to be so embarrassed soon, I had to avoid it at all costs.


Tuesday January 3rd, 2023. 11:30pm. 4 hours later at 11:30pm, my midwife asks me to lie on the bed, it was time for the next routine cervical checkup. "Sweetheart, you're still 1cm".


...


What!? Feelings of disheartenment, fear, pain... and mental mathematics all scrambled through simultaneously. What do you mean I'm still only 1cm? These contractions have been so frequent, so long, so strong forever now. I'd read that the average first time mother dilates 1cm an hour, and I hadn't moved in 4hours!! I may have been in the zone up until now but I was barely holding it together for a while. I think this was the first time I was truely a little scared. My midwife and Luke tried to help me back off the bed so I can return to more comfortable upright positions, but I just couldn't move! From this point on I was glued to the bed, unless I was having a contraction in which literally arching up and back and gripping with dear life onto the bed rails behind me with every single contraction like I was an extra in The Exorcist. My senses where well overloaded, overstimulated and at max capacity, at some point I order Luke to "stop looking at me so loudly!".


There was no way I could do this for another 30, 40 hours, I quickly calculated. I really was convinced my body would cave in and I that would die. I've had enough of the 'drug-free' birth, I didn't need to prove anything to anyone, including myself, anymore, I just needed to deliver my baby safely and pray I be around to meet my grandchildren one day.


"Epi! I want the epi!!!", I struggled to ask while heavily focus-breathing and uncontrollably contorting myself. "Absolutely, I thought you'd never ask" was the immediate response from my midwife, "I was expecting you to ask a long time ago".


Wednesday January 4th, 12:30-ish. (5 hours since being induced). It took the anaesthesiologist an hour to get to me and it was the longest most excruciating hour of my life. Luke told me afterward that i barely had 10-15seconds between each contraction. The monitor was reading the contractions at about 100-120 toco's (I've googled that the average woman in active labour ranages at about 80 toco's, not sure how accurate it is, but still, according to this my readings were well higher!). I continued to try breeeatheee through every contraction but it was far from calm and peaceful. I dread to know what my experience would have been if I had not exercised these breathing techniques. "I need to poo!!" I pant just as the anaesthesiologist walks into the room. "Are you sure you're not..." "TRUST ME I NEED TO POOP! I Haven't in 2 day's!" (There was no way I was going to poop in front of Luke, I'll muster whatever strength I have left to get to that bathroom). My midwife also updates the doctor that I was still only 1cm just over an hour ago and so the doctor says she'll come back in 5.


Luke is trying to help me up, "it's too late", I say defeatedly, "I pooped!". I think I was about to cry. Luke for some reason takes a peek at what just happened. It was only for the first time last week that Luke explained to me it was because he was prepared to help clean it up for me, because my midwife and the doctor were both out in the hallway talking. If this isn't true love, I don't know what is <3. Anyways, I hear from Luke "Babe, you didn't poop, you're bulging!!" My midwife is walking back into the room and hears this... she asks to measure me again, "Hun, you are just short of 10cm!!" You're pretty much ready to give birth, I don't think you have time for the epi". I remember both she and Luke telling me it's far too late for the epidural now. "It's far too late now, the baby is here". I reluctantly accept defeat in the middle of yet another excruciating contraction. The midwife leaves for a moment to update the anaesthesiologist of my progress and that she won't be needed anymore. If you haven't kept count, I had gone from 1cm to 10cm in an hour! That's wild!


The midwife is back in a second and is scamping about setting up for a birth. She was not expecting a birth so quick and suddenly. She is an experienced midwife and was sure I'd be birthing much, much later, as typical for a first-time mother.


Another contraction, I'm arching back, and I distinctly remember it was at this very moment I hear the anaesthesiologist waltz back and in a sing-song voice ask "who's ready for an eeepiiii!!!?" "Go f* yourself" I say silently in my head, how dare she toy with me like that, though even in this state I recognised the comic irony. It seems that there was a misunderstanding and the anaesthesiologist thought she needed to rush back, when in fact my midwife tried to signal 'we're cancelling the epi' from across the hospital hallway. She too couldn't believe the turn of events.


"C-Section!! I can't do this, I'm going to die!", I cry. "Drug me up, I'll meet my baby in 2 weeks if I have to, but I need all of the drugs!!"


I am desperate. I won't be able to do this much longer, I truely was convinced that my body will cave in soon and that I would die if I don't get medicated.


"NO! This I am saying no to", asserts my midwife. "You've got this, the baby is here! You don't need a caesarean, You've got this, mama..."


I was not happy, but I also didn't have the strength to fight her, I needed to focus my energy on my baby and not dying. The next few moments are now a blur...


I am pushing. I was afraid I'd run out of steam so I wanted to make sure I maximised all of my energy into each push. I figured, I'd rather push less often but with more intensity and have baby out sooner (or out as much as possible) before my body caves and I can't push anymore. It was the mindest over all the matters. It didn't feel like I was at 100% anymore but I concentrated on everything I had left. I was envisaging baby's head crowning and emerging. I wasn't sure if that's what was happening in reality, but was focused again with a clear finish line.


I have friends that 'tore' and that was naturally also a fear of mine. So despite the exhaustion and excruciating pain and burning urgency to push, when my midwife told me to hold, (I have no freaking idea how I did, I don't know if it was 5 seconds or half a minute, surely not longer) but I held on for dear life... and miraculously I did not tear. A couple minor internal stitches but my hoo-ha was, for all intents and purposes, ok.


Wednesday 4th January, 1:34am. After 9 official minutes, only 4 or 5 pushes and an unexpected gooey gushy feeling and I had given birth to my baby. Drug-free. Definitely not pain-free. I was done.


I don't think it hit me straight away though. I was exhausted. Luke caught the baby and the umbilical cord which I am so happy he did, because he was nervous to do so, just incase he 'drops' baby, which of course is silly. He caught baby and hand-delivered to me a teeny-tiny, purple and white, puffy eyed, darling little thing in my arms. I held my warm, teeny-tiny, purple and white, puffy eyed, darling baby against my chest, exhausted but happy and at peace. Our beautiful child. For a little bit, time stood still.


We never officially found out the sex of our baby- but we were convinced, for many a old wive's tale of reasons, that we were having a girl. After a couple minutes in my arms, Luke realised that the sex of the baby was in fact not known by me "Baby, do you know what we had?". I was still a little dazed, "no?..."...


"We have a son!".


I held Oliver against me and we rested. We had both had a long and hard day. Luke's love was radiating so strongly - my rock and my peace. He started crying as he was telling me how proud and in awe he was of my strength and courage. My midwife had at this moment taken my phone and snapped a couple photos of the the three of us, our beautiful little family. A moment captured in time, forever. I love this photo. <3