Bethany’s story
My first baby, Jacob, was born in May 2012. I was 21 years old. My labour started naturally, and I laboured at home for as long as I could before being admitted onto a general maternity ward overnight. I was having very strong, regular contractions although I was told I was not in labour, so was not offered pain relief and my husband was sent home. I laboured alone overnight. I was in so much pain and losing a lot of blood. I thought, if this isn’t labour I must be dying. At 8am I stood in the ward corridor and screamed for help. At 9am an examination revealed I was 9cm dilated. My husband was then allowed to stay with me and I was rushed to the delivery ward where I eventually received gas and air.
After four long hours of trying to push my baby out, I was rushed to theatre where a spinal was administered, episiotomy was performed and forceps were used to deliver his head. However, he then suffered a shoulder dystocia. The surgeon tried a number of manoeuvres to deliver his shoulder, which were unsuccessful. My baby had no oxygen supply. Eventually she internally dislodged his shoulder from my pelvis and a long, black-and-blue, lifeless baby was rushed off to be resuscitated. That image will stay with me forever. My husband had turned to the wall as he was too scared to look at either of us. My baby weighed 10lb 6oz. I had spent the last 20 weeks of my pregnancy worried about his size. My worries were completely ignored by my community midwife. I feel very fortunate that my baby survived and amazingly has no lasting effects from his birth. I was left with extensive tearing, including down my legs and an episiotomy that repeatedly became infected. I have also been diagnosed with pudendal neuralgia as a result of damage to my pelvic nerve. I was also left with PTSD, for which I received counselling.
My second labour
My second baby, Rupert, was born in March 2017. I opted to have an elective caesarean section, as I needed to be in control this time – I needed to know my baby would be safe. However, my anaesthetist was not able to find the right place in my spine for a spinal block to be administered. I refused to consent to being put to sleep, as I needed to see that magical moment of a healthy baby being brought into the world. After 90 minutes of various anaesthetists attempting a spinal block and me having to sit very still in an awkward position whilst feeling electric shock type pains going down my spine, I was persuaded to consent to receiving general anaesthetic.
The next thing I remember is hearing people talking around me about my baby. I overhead them call him a “he”, I overheard them say he was 9lb 10oz and it was a “good job she had a section”, but I had no idea what my baby looked like or what had happened during the first hour of his life. I missed the first cuddles, the immediate skin-to-skin, I missed seeing him being brought into the world and all the magical memories that would have come with that. My husband was in the other room having skin-to-skin with our baby and when I felt well enough, he was brought in to meet me. Rupert’s birth wasn't traumatic like Jacob's, but it still wasn't the positive and healing experience that I needed it to be to heal my wounds from Jacob’s birth. I'm still so gutted that I missed out on seeing my baby being born.
The next time somebody tells you that their baby's birth didn't go to plan, don't tell them, “As long as the baby is OK, that's all that matters”. Yes, the baby's safety is paramount, but the mummy matters too. Listen to her story, even if she needs to tell it over and over again, empathise and support her, because just because her baby is OK, that doesn’t mean she is.
