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My baby boy, Jun Hao, was due on 22 September, but I knew he would be
late. It's almost a tradition in my family for first babies to arrive
after 42 weeks, so I was quite relaxed as my due date slipped by. I knew
my boy was healthy, strong, happy, and waiting to make a grand entrance!
I was expecting an obvious beginning to labour - a show of blood, a
sharp pain, a gush of liquid - but the reality was very low-key. From 40
weeks I started paying attention to the painless Braxton-Hicks
contractions: several each day ... every few hours ... a couple per hour
... every 20 minutes ... When I went for my scheduled check-up at 41
weeks, on Friday, 29 September, the doctor felt the contractions and was
confident he'd see me again before the weekend was over.
That afternoon, the contractions were 10 minutes apart and starting to
ache. In the evening, my back-up doula Sarah dropped by my house to lend
me a TENS machine - I wanted to try using it early in labour so its
effectiveness would build. I kept it on overnight, sleeping lightly and
waking during the stronger contractions. On Saturday I pottered around
the house and tried to rest, eat, and prepare for the work ahead as the
contractions became stronger and more painful.
By late afternoon, the labour was intense and I was spending a lot of
time in a warm bath. (I think this was the "official" start of labour,
according to the doulas' records - when I couldn't talk through the
contractions). The TENS machine fell by the wayside, since I couldn't
wear it in the bath! I periodically phoned Billi, my doula, with
updates. My husband Khay Lin was around to support me and bring me
whatever I needed, but I was happiest alone in the bath. By 11pm, the
contractions were 3 minutes apart, long, strong and painful, and I did
NOT want to get out of the bath. Out of the water, the contractions were
horrible. I knew I'd have to endure a waterless 20-minute drive to the
hospital, so I thought better now than later. I called Billi. A
contraction hit while I was on the phone - I couldn't talk straight.
"Now, please, come!!!" Billi got the message and arrived pronto.
Billi's soothing presence was wonderful as she talked me through
contractions and poured water over my belly. Watching me and timing the
contractions, she was confident that I was in good active labour and
probably well dilated and approaching transition. How I wished the
hospital's birthing pool was ready! - but Billi assured me a shower with
unlimited hot water awaited. In between contractions, I felt remarkably
upbeat and energetic. Everything was going smoothly - "This is as bad as
it's going to get", was Billi's memorable reassurance :-) We drove to
hospital, the contractions swamping me every few minutes, alternately
moaning and smiling, and I was feeling very strong. I thought, "This is
manageable, this isn't too bad!"
Wouldn't you know it, when we arrived in hospital at midnight, I was
only 1.5 cm dilated. It became apparent that Jun was posterior, turning
through 270 degrees to get into position. Typically of posterior
labours, I appeared to be further along than I really was. Billi
suggested a change of tactics - reduce my movements, conserve energy,
and prepare for what might be a long labour. A difficult 7 hours
followed; vomiting, wanting to sleep, strong contractions. I spent most
of it on the shower floor with a birth ball and lots of hot water. I
locked myself away and just wanted to be alone. Billi and Khay Lin were
on stand-by for me and took turns napping.
 When the nurses checked again on Sunday morning, I was only 2 cm
dilated. Demoralised. Wanting to sleep, wanting
time out. This is when the nature of labour really hit me. It's
relentless. There's no going back, no time out, nothing to do but ride
the experience till that baby comes out.
Through all this, Jun's heartbeat was strong and steady. I decided to go
home and keep labouring there. More hours passed. I napped between
contractions - powerfully weird dreams. Back pain, and a terrible,
overpowering urge to push, though I knew I wasn't dilated and the
pushing wasn't helping. I still wanted to be alone, just touching base
with Billi every few hours.
By Sunday evening, I was exhausted. I couldn't imagine getting through
the first stage of labour, let alone second stage, let alone having
enough energy left to care for a newborn afterwards. This was when I
needed Khay Lin's strength to help me through each contraction. The
contractions were erratic, and when we tried techniques to strengthen
them, I realised that I had started to fight the contractions, willing
them to stop. I knew it was time to get help. It wasn't the pain that
wore me down, it was the exhaustion - I needed sleep. I called Billi and
said I'd decided to have an epidural. It was a relief to hear her
reassurance and agreement that this was a good decision.
Back in hospital at 9pm, I was only 4 cm dilated. The contractions had
picked up again and were ghastly, sometimes running into each other
without a break. I had an epidural and immediately felt fabulous. Sarah
arrived to give Billi a break. The doctor broke the waters, but after an
hour the contractions were still in-coordinate and I was given
syntocinon. I fell into a deep, heavenly sleep.
At midnight, I woke up refreshed. The nurse checked me and announced I
was fully dilated and could start pushing now. The baby's head was
already visible. I couldn't believe it. I pushed, but couldn't feel
anything. It was the weirdest feeling - I was laughing, it just seemed
surreal. The epidural was turned down, then turned off completely so I
could feel to push. It took an hour and a half but felt like 20 minutes.
I was asked to inhale some oxygen to help the baby, who was getting
tired. The cheer squad - Khay Lin, Sarah, nurses - kept me appraised of
how much of his head was visible - "20 cent piece! 50 cent piece!" Once
I could feel, I suddenly knew exactly where to push - compared to the
contractions, it was so easy. The doctor arrived just in time - a couple
more contractions and he would have missed it!
Beautiful Jun Hao arrived quietly, looking about him. It was 2.10am on 2
October, Monday morning. Amazing, unforgettable moment! He needed to
have his airway suctioned and didn't enjoy that much, but was soon back
in my arms. He looked just like his dad (though smaller, wetter and
bluer...) Though I wasn't aware of it, I'm told my first words were "Far
out!" - very articulate. It still brings tears to my eyes when I
remember seeing little Jun for the first time.
When I reread this story, the words that keep coming up in relation to
Billi and Sarah are "assure", "assurance", "reassurance". That's what
was so valuable to me - having these knowledgeable, caring women to
bounce ideas off and let me know that everything was OK. Though my
labour was long, I feel completely positive about it. I felt well
prepared by the antenatal classes, had fantastic support and care from
husband, doulas, doctors and nurses, and have no regrets about the
decisions I made during labour. It was an extraordinary experience, I
learned a lot, and I now know I have the strength to survive anything!
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