Throughout my pregnancy I was fortunate enough to feel fit and well. I practiced yoga at Hackney Forge, a lovely little studio by Victoria Park, and swam lots in the Olympic pool, even more so during the second trimester when my energy and oxytocin levels were beginning to come into play and the morning sickness had begun to fade away. It was at about this point in my pregnancy that a friend told me she was considering a home birth. This idea was completely new territory for my husband, Rich, and I, however after receiving a great recommendation from the Homerton University Hospital Midwifery Team who led our antenatal classes, and reading up on the benefits of giving birth in the security of your own home, we soon also transferred our care to the Hackney homebirth team. The idea was that we would aim for the birth to take place in our living room using a hired birthing pool but would put no pressure on ourselves if the circumstances weren’t right so we were equally happy to go to the birth centre or even the hospital when the time came. Immediately I saw the enormous benefit of transferring to the homebirth team as it really allowed us to build up a rapport with our midwife. There is so much trust that goes into this particular relationship so I felt very confident that we’d done the right thing each time we welcomed Laticia, my midwife, into our living room every 3 to 4 weeks to chat and do all the required routine checks.

A couple of weeks later my brother’s partner recommended looking into hypnobirthing as a technique to accompany both pregnancy and labour. Again, this was a completely new idea for Rich and I but after reading up a little further on the subject it quickly seemed like a really helpful approach as I would be taught how to let my body relax, resist any fear and allow for a calm birth through use of visualisations and breathing techniques. Although we were already signed up to NCT, we managed to book the last place on a hypnobirthing course of four weeks at the Well Garden in Hackney Downs and after just one session of listening and learning from the very talented Katrina Berry, we were utterly hooked. We found that the combination of hypnobirthing, antenatal classes and NCT meant that, although costing a fair penny, we felt that we were approaching the forthcoming birth of our baby in a completely holistic way as each method complimented the other. Hypnobirthing allowed us to consider replacing fear with trust in my body and our baby, meanwhile the antenatal classes gave us the practical knowledge required for a healthy pregnancy, birth and postnatal life. Finally, NCT brought us together with a really nice group of people; four couples who were going through the exact same stage of life as us and also happened to be our neighbours so meet ups at cafés near Victoria Park became a regular occurrence, even more so once the babies began to arrive!

I planned to work up to two weeks prior to my due date and as I approached the third trimester I continued to exercise daily by walking to and from the office through the park and along Regent’s Canal. On the Saturday after leaving my desk for the last time I hosted twenty friends for a baby shower which was a lovely opportunity to get all my kind friends together under one roof. In some ways however I now wonder if all this exercise and activity was in fact masking my baby’s movements because as soon as I stopped working I inevitably began to concentrate much more on the little baby growing inside me and although she was never really a baby that kicked vigorously inside the womb I began to really worry about her movements. The following weekend Rich and I were meant to be going to a gig that we’d been looking forward to for months however, that morning having had extremely little sleep due to anxiety, and possibly all the hormones rushing through my body, we decided to call the on-duty home team midwife to get her opinion on the lack of movement I was experiencing. She very helpfully told us to go in to hospital to be monitored if we had any concerns of any kind. So, after a little wait in the ward I was soon strapped up to the CTG monitor and informed that our baby’s heartbeat was perfectly fine. Whilst this was extremely reassuring I still could not be completely satisfied over whether my baby’s movements were “normal,” for her, or whether there was in fact reduced foetal movement. I found this particularly hard to determine seeing as she was my first baby and had no point of comparison.

As reduced movement is a serious concern a consultant came to chat to us about our options. However, very quickly the discussion moved to talk of induction which surprised us enormously because we still had two weeks before the due date and had learnt enough by now through reading and all the classes we’d attended that inducing labour was not something to take lightly. In fact, I knew deep down that I felt extremely opposed to induction as it just didn’t seem like the right time for our baby to arrive so we went home and agreed to continue to make note of movements. Unfortunately however, the worry became increasingly unbearable and my anxiety levels were at such a point that, although I was functioning fine on the surface, I was now in the depths of insomnia meaning I had not slept for over five days. During the long nights I would listen to the recordings that Katrina had put together for our hypnobirthing classes which put my mind at ease, as well as to endless episodes of Desert Island Discs. Around this time I had also found out that I’d tested positive to GBS (Group B Streptococcus), a common bacteria that lives in about 25% of all healthy adult women. This result meant that I could no longer have a home birth as I’d need to be given antibiotics during labour. The result did not concern me too much as we had always been fluid with our options and knew that we’d never put our baby at risk so we were happy knowing that we could still use the birth centre, however, I still just simply could not be reassured about our baby’s movements, or lack thereof. At this point, my mum, who is a recently retired midwife, came to stay with us and, looking back, I can honestly say that she rescued me from going completely insane with worry. She gently put my mind at ease and, being the enormously practical woman that she is, help us to go about the all-important nesting phase with such vigour that our flat looked close to a show-home by the time she’d finished. After a couple of days, we discussed whether she should stay with us for longer but I insisted that she headed off as a close family friend was due to get married in France that weekend. I knew she’d love to be at the wedding and wanted her to have a lovely time whilst there so sent her off not before helping her find accommodation at the chateau where the ceremony was going to take place.

Despite feeling more calm about everything by the time Friday came round I still could not say with full confidence that what I was feeling inside my womb could be considered as “normal” so, again, we took ourselves off to Homerton Hospital. We heard the heartbeat and again we spoke to a consult however this time they really listened to my concerns and appreciated that insomnia was not a good thing to be experiencing at this late stage in pregnancy so offered a vaginal examination to see how favourable my cervix was. We thought this was a good idea as it would give an indication as to how far away I was from going into natural labour. After what was an unpleasant yet quick examination the consultant advised that my cervix was extremely soft and that labour was likely to happen over the next few days. This information was as exciting as it was daunting. The funny thing was though was that almost as soon as I sat upright on the hospital bed something started to feel different down below. I mentioned this but the consultant assured me nothing was going to happen right away as these things take time. He also offered to book me in for a sweep at 11am the following morning just to see if that might speed things up.

We went away feeling more confident than the previous hospital visit and headed home to pack our hospital bag, knowing that a sweep in the morning might mean I could be in labour some time over the next couple of days. That night, having settled into bed around midnight I woke at 4am with a strange rhythmic sensation moving through my abdomen and lower back, rather like very strong period cramps. It was not unbearable though and I thought for some time that they must be warm up surges (Braxton Hicks), but by around 6am I woke Rich to tell him that I thought perhaps I might be in labour. He calmly told me to try to relax and see if I could get some more rest so I shut my eyes, stayed calm and practiced the visualisations I had learnt during hypnobirthing. With every surge I breathed in and imagined blowing up a colourful balloon and with every breath out I watched the inflated balloon float up and away into a big blue sky. I also focused on reading the affirmations that I had pinned to a mood board on the wall opposite our bed and reassured myself that my body and my baby knew exactly what to do.

Still not entirely sure whether I was in full labour or not, we decided to keep my appointment for the sweep and planned to have a good breakfast, get washed and dressed ready to go, so at around 9am I had a shower. The problem was though was that as soon as I stepped out of the shower I had an almighty urge to empty my bowls. I sat down on the loo and in actual fact remained there for almost an hour because the thought of standing up was too much. The surges were getting increasingly stronger and I was beginning to feel faint. It was my biggest fear that I might faint during labour because I had experienced faintness in the past when my blood pressured had suddenly risen, so despite Rich’s attempts to get me off the loo, I knew all I could do was sit and wait this bit out, all the time using long controlled breaths. As the surges increased and the faintness became almost too much I asked Rich to call the midwife. Her advice was that I was probably feeling faint from the heat of the shower and the best thing to do would be to get up. Rich finally coaxed me up and I walked through to the kitchen where I began to feel much more cool. We then switched on the tens machine and I leant against the kitchen table. I wouldn’t say that the surges were painful, just increasingly intense and uncomfortable. I knew to breathe through them and work with my body so stood like this as another hour went by whilst nibbling on the tinniest bits of toast and sipping water through a straw. We both knew now that I was far beyond the need for a sweep but looked at the clock and realised that if we left the flat there and then we’d make it for our 11am appointment and therefore ‘miss the queue’ in the hospital waiting room.

We called a taxi and Rich went out to flag it down. The driver had parked a little down the road which meant that Rich had to go and ask him to drive up to the front door, leaving me stood on the pavement in my dressing gown whilst each surge matched the wave of traffic passing by. The journey to the hospital was thankfully very quick. We had a short wait and then were seen by the midwife who promptly told me that I was eight cm dilated already. This was extremely welcoming news and surprised us both. I felt a great sense of relief knowing that a large part of the hard work was behind me and that I was not going to be sent home. A wonderful midwife called Lizzie then came to take us through to the birthing centre. At points I recall being bent over double with the power of the surges as I walked very slowly down the corridor. When we got inside I was pleased to find the three of us standing in a spacious room with a massive bed and pool. There were a serious of checks to be made for the baby and I whilst Rich set up the laptop so we could listen to the playlist he had prepared. We also dimmed the lights and made it feel like our own safe space. Lizzy was incredible, balancing her lovely professional manner with a friendly sense of reassurance and support.

As I moved through labour the surges became more intense and I continued to use the tens machine. Although offered, I didn’t feel that I would benefit from any stronger pain relief at this stage because I knew that my own breathing was working just fine. I recall feeling a huge sense of release as my waters broke whilst leaning against the bed and I was still able to talk to Laticia who very kindly popped into the birthcentre to see how I was getting on. Lizzie encouraged me to move around the room and go to the loo. Unfortunately, I found that I couldn’t pass any urine which was a bit of a concern as it might have meant that our baby wouldn’t be able to move pass my bladder. It later meant that a catheter had to be used to release the enormous amount of urine which had accumulated due to all the water Rich was brilliantly encouraging me to drink. A couple of hours went by like this and with a help from both Rich and Lizzie I soon found myself at the pushing stage. I needed Lizzie to explain exactly what she meant by pushing as I realised that I had been taught how to breathe with the surges but not how to push through them. Lizzie told me to hold my breath, resist making noises and push for ten full seconds as she counted. As this was the exact opposite to what I had been so diligently doing up until now it took me a couple of goes before I understood what she was asking me to do. In order to describe it in the best possible way I’d say it was like pushing out a colossal poo. After roughly six or seven strong pushes Lizzie said she could see the head and asked Rich if he’d like to have a look.

Up until this point I wouldn’t have described labour as painful as such, more like an incredibly powerful sensation which increased in intensity with every new surge, and although I remained calm, I was finding pushing really quite challenging so started to use gas and air. The feeling of our baby’s head and shoulders being half inside my own body and half out was bizarre and came with a very strong tingling feeling, rather like lots of bees’ stings in quite a tender part of my body. However, with two more smaller, gentle pushes our baby began to slip downwards and out. Once her whole body had made its way into the world Rich and I sat down and held her in our arms for a wonderful ten minutes before Rich cut the umbilical cord and Lizzie checked, weighed and gave our baby girl her Vitamin K jab. She also had to give our baby her antibiotics to ensure the GBS bacteria had not past into her system during labour.

Once the placenta had been born and we had had a lovely cuddle with our perfectly formed and beautiful healthy baby, Lizzie advised that I also need to be checked to see if any damage had occurred. Unfortunately, I had experienced second degree internal tears so needed an epidural for the stitches. Thankfully we were able to laugh at the irony of this having gone through labour with practically no drugs and now being told that I’d have to have strong pain relief. In fact, this aspect of the labour was undoubtedly the worst part for me as I had not prepared mentally at all for being wheeled off from my new born baby and husband in the direction of the theatre ward. I tried my best to stay cheery and continued to use long controlled breaths from hypnobirthing however my heart began to race as the anaesthetist attempted more than three times to administer the needle in my spine. To make matters slightly worse an emergency C-section came in just as I was about to be stitched up so it meant that I was in theatre for a total of two hours in which time Rich was still waiting with our baby in birthing centre. Whilst this gave him a wonderful opportunity to bond with her during the first hours of her life, it also unfortunately meant that I lost significant time in which to breast feed her. However, when I finally came out of theatre Rich brought our daughter to visit me in the recovery ward. It was truly wonderful and we cuddled in the bed together until the anaesthetic wore off. By this time, it was approaching midnight so we stayed in the hospital rather than going home and Rich’s sister and brother-in-law kindly brought us some dinner and provisions for the overnight stay. Sadly, we were then told that the antibiotics given to me during labour had not been administered soon enough before our baby was born and therefore there was a chance that the GBS may have passed over to her. This was devastatingly bad news as it meant that our precious daughter was at risk and it also meant that we faced staying in hospital for up to twelve days whilst she would be given antibiotics through a mini drip in her tiny arm twice a day, every day.

The following afternoon my mum arrived back in the UK and came straight to the hospital. Seeing her made me realise just how exhausted I was as I explained to her what had happened over the last 24 hours. I was really glad that she’d been able to go to the wedding and have a good time but boy was I glad she was with me now. Over the next three nights both my mum and Rich were fantastic at keeping my spirits up as I lay in the hospital bed getting very little rest due to the bright lights and noise of the ward. As much as I was grateful for all the fantastic staff at Homerton Hospital I found being in hospital pretty unbearable as I have never been sick in my life and have only ever visited people, never laid in a gown in the same bed for four days straight. Turns out that I am a very impatient patient. Thankfully, on the last night the lady next to me was discharged and I asked if I could swap beds as I knew she’d been next to the window. The midwife on duty agreed I could be moved and that night we finally got some rest. I later calculated that between going into labour on the Friday night and finally leaving hospital the following Tuesday I had had a total of just 3 hours sleep. When the consultant told us we could go home I had packed the bags with two minutes and Rich had the car ready within ten. We were utterly over the moon to be taking our daughter home. My mum stayed with us for three more nights and did a magnificent job of helping us to regain a sense of normality and even the beginnings of a sleep/feed pattern which were able to maintain. By the following weekend we felt sane enough to drive down to Bath to visit Rich’s parents and spent the weekend visiting close family.

Since arriving home we have enjoyed every single second with our baby, whom we have named Esmée Annabel Rose, even when she is a monkey and demanding milk every hour on the hour. Rich has been an amazingly calm dad and supportive partner throughout for which I am eternally grateful. We have managed to eat well, go for walks and enjoy the early summer sunshine every day in Victoria Park with friends. We have managed to balance daytime naps with breastfeeding and sometimes expressing so that Rich can take Esmée out for early morning walks whilst I have some time to tidy the flat, take a bath or even attempt some tummy strengthening exercises. It has been a little over a month now since Esmée’s birth and reflecting back I am proud to share my experience with people and tell them how positive I found both pregnancy and labour. I know for certain that her smooth birth was down to attentive mental preparation and the invaluable hypnobirthing techniques we learnt with Katrina Berry. I’d wholeheartedly recommend hypnobirthing to all pregnant women and their partners no matter what sort of labour you have. Lastly, I want to give my heartfelt thanks for those people who have supported my new family in this incredible journey, especially to Laticia, Lizzie, and all the lovely staff at Homerton Hospital, as well as our friends and to Katrina. Most of all, I want to thank our beautiful daughter for arriving into this world and for letting me be her mummy.

June, 2017.

postscript from Kat- for more information about GBS the AIMS publication “Group Strep B Explained” by Sara Wickham is a wonderful resource to research your options.