Not off the hook after all for the home water birth. Not just yet,
anyway. Structural engineer got back in touch to veto bedroom for the
birth pool. But said our smallest room - the hall - looks like it will
take the weight. Husband due to pick up pool, pipes, bleach, colander,
heating pad tomorrow evening. Will buy waterproof torch, anglepoise
lamp, waterproof sheeting at weekend. Scared? Me?
Unsure about giving birth in hallway. Doesn't feel quite right
somehow. Will it be sufficiently private? Can't even remember how much
privacy matters in childbirth. Is it a big issue? When was having
Beanie, midwife got concerned about daughter's heart rate. Army of
green-suited doctors, anaethetists and paediatricians entered through flowery curtain.
"Hello. Where have you all come from?" I asked.
"Did you not see your midwife press the emergency button?" one of them replied.
"Errr... no," I mumbled.
"Don't push," said the midwife, looking up from her notes. "Whatever you do, don't push."
"I'm not pushing!" I said, feeling like small child.
Funny the things you do remember; many of them were wearing clogs. But
seemed fine with that. Not embarrassed, the way I would have been. There were phone calls, booking a place in the resuscitation unit, asking if
theatre was free. No, we'd have to stay put. They brought out the
forceps (I didn't look at that bit). Hauled daughter out of me as fast
as they could. Beanie shrieked with displeasure as she emerged. I was a
bit sore afterwards. Relief on face of clog-clad paediatrician posted
down bottom end to greet Beanie. "Baby can go straight to mum," she
said.
After that drama, I liked idea of giving birth in tranquillity of
own bedroom, where, ahem, this whole project started back in October.
But do not want to become stupid and obstinate about home birth.
Read cautionary tale about woman who broke down in jealous hysteria
when she got text message saying sister-in-law had 'achieved' a home
birth. This woman described herself - no, defined herself - as
HWBA3C. Yes, my thoughts exactly. Stands for 'home water birth after
three Caesareans'. She claimed the Caesareans were violations
'inflicted on her in the name of medical science'.
Spoke to my midwife, whom I trust. Asked if true NHS does unnecessary interventions.
"Look at it from a practical point of view," she said. "The NHS is
careful with its resources. It has to be. There's not a lot of money
available and funding is always being squeezed. Nobody likes to make
things more complicated than they need to be. It's expensive to do a section. It's a question of beds and staff time. We only intervene when
necessary."
Friend whose wife had their second child last
year said: "It's the head count at the end that matters."
Childbirth Daughter Health Health workers Home birth Husband Water birth
Russia is to honour prolific mothers with a presidential award for their baby-making efforts, according to this story in The Telegraph. The move is an attempt to reverse an alarming decline in Russia's population. The Russian government is spreading the message that it is the patriotic duty of all women to bear at least three children. "Pregnancy is now the height of fashion among wealthy women," says the article.
'Height of fashion', indeed. At seven months pregnant, half-crippled with pelvic pain, gripped by every anxiety under the sun and sleeping with a boudoir's worth of cushions to prop up my aching limbs I do not feel remotely fashionable. My hair is a mess: I haven't dared touch up my greying roots for fear of harming the baby.
I hardly go out any more in the evenings - being sleepy by 9pm. My personal space has expanded to a two-metre exclusion zone around me. Talking to strangers scares me. My mind constantly revolves around how to protect the baby from every difficulty she might face in life. I'm terrified that the birth will be a disaster. The indigestion is getting worse. I would love to have three children, but if I can get through this pregnancy with a healthy baby at the end, and without permanently alienating all those whom I love, I'll count myself lucky.
In any case, The Telegraph quotes some so-called 'experts' on Russia saying the real cause of population decline isn't women shirking reproductive duty but .... rampant alcoholism. Oh dear. The average life expectancy for a Russian male is just 58. Poor bastards. They drink themselves into an early grave. But apparently it's easier in Russia to persuade women to have more children than it is to get the men to stop drinking.
Childbirth can be a source of sexual pleasure, according to a controversial new documentary film coming to the UK. "The same pleasurable stimuli triggered during sex can also be released during birth," says Debra Pascali Bonaro, maker of Orgasmic Birth. Here is a trailer for the movie, which shows women gasping and moaning as if they were in the throes of sexual ecstasy. The film is showing at the Glasgow Film Theatre on 4 June. More information available here.
Seven weeks to go until my due date for younger daughter! Husband and I
attended a birth preparation workshop this weekend, practising labour
postures, pain relief techniques and relaxation. Pain
management involved gripping an ice cube. My right hand
remains a little numb many hours later. Oh well. It was a good event,
not least because I got lots of massage and attention from Va-vay, my
husband. Some of the other couples there were expecting their first
children, which got me thinking about things I wish I'd known when I
was having a baby first-time round. Here are a few of my thoughts.
Please feel free to chip in with any of your own.
1. You cannot just put a new baby down in her cot and expect her to go
to sleep. Nah. No matter how tired you both are. For a long time,
getting Beanie (elder daughter) to sleep was a delicate process that
involved rocking, feeding, singing and hushing.
2. For this reason, a Moses basket is not necessarily a great
investment. By the time I had persuaded Beanie to sleep in
hers, she had just about outgrown it. Not only are Moses baskets
expensive, and used for a short time, but they come with annoying
padding and quilts 'for decoration' that could be dangerous for small
babies. But they do look cute.
3. It might be best to assemble all the baby kit BEFORE baby arrives.
Not afterwards, like I did. A simple car seat was beyond me to fit into
the car in the early weeks after having Beanie. Same went for breast
pumps. I wish I'd practised with the wretched milking machine before
Beanie arrived. In that post-natal daze, it seemed like I needed a
Diploma in Childrearing Equipment (Intermediate Level) to master the
thing. Nowadays I see the pump gathering dust in a kitchen cupboard. It
looks simple enough. What was the problem?
4. Despite what the books say, there's no great harm (that I can see,
anyway) in letting baby fall asleep for a short nap in his or her
parents' arms. Snuggling up with Beanie was one of the most blissful
experiences of my life. Letting your baby sleep in your arms doesn't
mean your child will be incapable of sleeping in a cot on their own (as
some of the books will tell you). Just enjoy the experience. Because,
before you know it, you'll be onto a different stage. Which reminds me
of something else....
5. The sleepless nights don't last forever. Though they seem endless at
the time. Almost before I knew it, I'd gone from praying for more sleep
to missing Beanie being around for night-time feeds. All the stages are
over so quick. The era of pureed root vegetables already seems years
away. Was there really a time when she couldn't walk? When I wondered
if she'd ever be big enough to fit into six-to-nine month vests?
6. Some parenting books sell themselves by threatening all kinds of
dire consequences if you don't follow their advice to their letter.
Sleepless nights spent looking after kids who are candidates for
Supernanny. That sort of stuff. Unless you follow their 'routines' to
the letter, that is. Mostly, that is rubbish. Most parents can muddle
through very well by following their own instincts. I wish I'd been
more chilled and less desperate for advice from childless parenting
gurus who play on new parents' vulnerability.
7. Other parents in baby groups tell fibs about their children's
achievements. Do not believe them. The more insecure the parent, the
more prodigious (or apparently so) their child's ability to 'sleep
through', grow teeth, walk, talk etc. I wish I hadn't been taken in by
the boastfulness.
8. The timing of milestones like first steps doesn't really matter.
Even though it seems to matter at the time. Healthy, normal children
will do things at the pace that's right for them. It's not worth
getting sucked into competitiveness over whose child started walking
first.
9. People have more strongly held views on how to parent than they do
on religion and politics. But whereas most people will hold back from
ramming political and religious views down the throat of acquaintance
and near or actual strangers, any new or expectant mother is considered
fair game for other people to offer unwanted advice. Don't take it personally. The converse is that having a child put me in touch with a great deal of unexpected kindness from all sorts of people.
10. Looking after a newborn isn't complicated. Feeding, sleeping, nappies. But it takes a huge amount of stamina.
And a bit of nerve. This job is relentless. And you never get a lie-in
to recover.
11. It doesn't matter how much you've achieved in your work (unless,
perhaps, you worked with children). Having a baby will test you in ways
you never imagined possible. Feeling totally responsible for a small
baby who is dependent on you for everything, and I mean everything,
is a tall order. For everybody. No matter how competent they were at
their jobs or in other spheres. I didn't understand this until I had my
daughter.
11. I wish I'd known in the early days, when I was so tired I could
hardly remember my own name, how fantastic it is to have a two-year-old
daughter. We can communicate with words! She has an excellent sense of
humour. We have fun together! She has turned from a tiny baby into an
affectionate and gentle little girl with an endearing curiosity about
the world. I'm proud of her.
Telegraph writer Rowan Pelling has written this excellent article about having her second son at home last month. The decision to go for a home birth followed a traumatic delivery first time round in which Pelling got to 9cm dilated - and still ended up under the surgeons' knives with an emergency C-Section. Personally, I just managed to escape a section when giving birth to my daughter. But I did have a tough time delivering a baby who weighed well over 10lbs - so I can sympathise with Pelling (pictured).
As Pelling jokingly points out, home birth in the UK has an unfair reputation as the preserve of 'masochistic, tree-hugging yoga freaks'. Just 1.8% of new mothers in the UK give birth at home. But research suggests home births are as safe as hospital deliveries - indeed, possibly even safer, since there's less risk of contracting MRSA. And birth is less stressful in a familiar environment, studies suggest. There's also less risk of intervention; birth is allowed to take its natural course. There are no doctors rushing in to speed up labour artificially, which can lead to all sorts of problems. There's no pressure to agree to using forceps or ventouse if mothers overshoot hospital guidelines for permitted length of the second stage of labour.
Since I decided on a home birth for my second child, due in July, I've had to put up with acquaintance who have a) sneered at my decision b) suggested I might die in the experience. Friends, especially those who had easier deliveries with their second children, have been more positive. But my mother still looks terrified at the mention of home birth and refuses to acknowledge I'm serious in my plans for one. My husband's hands shake slightly when I discuss it with him and he starts discussing the engineering behind our hot water system - always, I suspect, the first defence of a man troubled by what he's hearing. So it was good to read a positive account of home birth from another woman (also, at 40, a slightly older mum like myself) who felt empowered by the experience.
Pelling attributes some of the success of her home birth to hiring an independent midwife (for around £3,000). I have a fantastic community midwife - but unfortunately there's no guarantee of it being her who comes out to me when I'm in labour - and I'm trying to decide whether it would be worth the expense of hiring an independent midwife. That way, at least, I wouldn't have the stress of wondering about what the midwife will be like.
By the way - here is a useful tip for any woman about to have a baby or looking after a newborn. I've learnt recently that every woman has the right to insist on a change in the medical staff looking after her, including midwives, obstetricians, anaesthetists and health visitors. This would have been nice to know when I was giving birth to my daughter, and I suffered at the hands of a midwife who was like one of my old PE teachers at school. I will never be able to cleanse my brain of her instructions. "Push down through your bottom," she kept telling me, like I was a lazy army recruit who needed whipping into line.
If I'd known back then I had a legal right to tell her to push off and get a replacement, I'd have done so. So, if anyone reading this finds themselves suffering from authoritarian medics who act as if they have the god-given power to tell them what to do, remember: you have the power to ditch them. There's a small but potent minority of medics who take advantage of their perceived power to bully women. And let's face it, who's more vulnerable than a pregnant or newly-delivered mother?
For the last week or so my husband and I have been sharing our bed with
someone called Horace. With Horace's help, I can get
comfortable enough to doze for a few hours at a time. Horace props up
my bump, lessens my back pain and corrects my posture. When I talk to him, he really seems to listen. Never interrupts. And he's so
bendy - must be all that polystyrene foam for innards.
Unfortunately, Va-vay is
not supportive about our extra bed-mate. I have caught him shooting
dark, jealous looks at my side of the bed as Horace and I snuggle up
together.
"I might investigate a new air bed," he said the other night, in an airy but
long-suffering way. "So I can sleep somewhere else and let you have the
bed to yourselves."
"That's a good idea," I snipe back. "We could bring over the Zed-bed from my mum's."
"Have you ever slept on that Zed-bed?" he replied, as if I'd reminded him of childhood bullying, redundancy or first love.
"When you first came to stay with my parents you slept on the Zed-bed and you never said a thing about it!" I accused him.
"I was being polite."
"You were being repressed. If it was so bad you should have said something."
"Have you seen how much of the bed I have left to sleep on?" he says, indicating with his hands a space the width of a shopping bag.
Normally I would take pride in keeping this squabble up ages longer. But pregnancy has softened me.
"I don't want you to sleep elsewhere," I confess. "I like sharing a bed with you. That's why I married you."
"Oh, come here," he says.
"Err.... I would, but I can't," I say, pointing to 28-weeks-pregnant bump and Horace. "You'll have to come here."
In my last pregnancy I was nearly crippled with pelvic pain, so I asked
my midwife for help. "Keep your legs together," she told me. And they wonder why pregnant women feel misunderstood....
This time round the pain is shaping up to be just as bad - but I've
been better at getting help in managing it. An obstetric physio at our
local hospital has taught me techniques for staying
mobile - mostly involving breathing (let's face it, breathing always
helps) and stomach-tightening.
Next week she is going to fit me with
something called an orthopaedic belt to hold in all the ligaments
loosened by pregnancy hormones. I fear the belt might do nothing to
boost marital relations but I'm - almost - beyond caring. And Horace won't mind.
Many women are going into labour underestimating how painful it can be and overly optimistic they will be able to manage without drugs, a study suggests. Researchers at the University of Newcastle found 'discrepancies' between women's expectations of labour - and their actual experiences. In England, around a quarter of women who give birth end up having an epidural, the spinal analgesia which eliminates the pain of contractions, although many did not plan on having one. "Of course it is important to have hopes for how you would like your labour to be. But those involved in providing ante-natal sessions, while listening to these, need to make sure that women are aware of how things may go and help them construct realistic expectations," says Joanne Lally, who led the research. "The problem with some of the courses out there is that they concentrate so much on doing it naturally that inevitably women feel as though they've done something wrong when those techniques aren't enough for them." The BBC quotes Anna Davidson of the Birth Trauma Association suggesting women should be less competitive with each other about how they give birth. "Ante-natal sessions do need to be more realistic - perhaps including women who have given birth and had very different experiences. But mothers themselves need to stop being so gladiatorial about what they managed to endure. We sometimes seem to forget that while childbirth is natural, women in the past regularly died as a result of it."
"Is anyone ever ready for their first baby?" asked a teenage father in last night's Pramface Babies, which followed teenage mums giving birth in a Merseyside maternity ward. Granted, it was one of the few sensible things he had to say for himself, but he did have a point. Watching Pramface Babies I couldn't help but imagine the producers behind the cameras, you know the type; would film their grandmother in her death throes if they thought there was airtime in it. They found an easy target in the young working class mothers who starred in this show (one of them is pictured above), especially since the women were mostly filmed while in labour. No doubt the producers, with names like Annabel, Gemma and Charlotte will conceive to order at the correct ages, somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties, being neither too young or too old. Pity those of us who don't fall into the 'correct' timeframe for childbearing. Too young, and you're a feckless fool. Too old? Oh, a selfish career bitch.
I have worked and went to school with many women like the Annabels, Gemmas and Charlottes who produced this show. But personally, I have more time for the women ('pramface' is council estate slang for teenage mums) in front of the camera. They weren't the ones making money out of poking fun at other people. They showed love and dedication for their children. Sure, they were a bit daft and naive about what motherhood and relationships involved. But so what? You could see they were so desperate for affection after neglected childhoods, they'd fall for the first half-decent bloke who came along.
You could put together a grisly documentary on posh girl mating habits, that would make far more disturbing viewing than Pramface Babies. Many girls I studied and worked with were frank about marrying for money and status. One woman I knew admitted she was marrying her husband for the Norfolk manor house, opportunities to open church fairs and status as wife of a senior naval officer and had no plans to give up her female German lover in London.
In contrast, the women in Pramface Babies might have been clueless (of course they were, they didn't have the education or experience to be otherwise), but I respected them. They were determined to be the best mums possible to their babies. They believed in unfashionable concepts like 'love' and 'affection'. They were capable of warmth and kindness (not generally a posh girl forte). And unlike many of us (I include myself in this) they didn't waste time agonising about the work/life balance, or the 'right' time to have a baby. They just did it. The only thing that stops me, an older first-time mum, from greater sympathy with them, is that most of them got their figures back within months of giving birth. Now, it would be nice if the same were true for me....
Childbirth Fashionably Late - the book Older mother Pregnancy
The friend of a friend has just given birth to her first child. "How
did it go?" my friend asked Sharon. "Brilliant, just brilliant," said
Sharon. "No drugs. I just had faith in my own body to give birth and
being so positive got me through it." As I remembered my own childbirth
experience (let's just say it involved a lot of drugs), I tried
to remind myself that Beanie arriving safely was the important thing, that jealousy is a sin, that my delivery could have been much, much worse,
but a sense of inadequacy crept over me.
Looking after Ben has proved a breeze, at least if Sharon is
to be believed. "He doesn't cry. No, really, he doesn't cry. And he's
slept through the night ever since he was born." My jaw fell open when
I heard that and I had to fight the smirk that crept across my face.
"Really?" I managed. "That's.... unusual."
"And how's feeding going?" asked my friend, adopting her most determined
smile. "Really well," replied Sharon. "He latched himself on as soon as
he was born and he's been feeding for up to an hour at a time. In the day. He's never hungry at night." Baby Ben woke up at this point, perhaps aware that his
food intake was under discussion. His gusty cry somewhat belied what
mother had said earlier, but we pretended we hadn't heard and said nothing.
After all, she had just been through childbirth, even if it was
a doddle and she really had given birth to a child destined to be the
next Dalai Lama.
At the sound of Ben's cry, Sharon eyed him like one might a wild
animal, picked him up, shuffled her bottom around, reached for one
boob, then seemed to think better of it, yanked up her jumper on the
other side and gingerly unclipped her nursing bra. As she did so, folds
and folds of saggy stomach flesh fell out over her maternity jeans, and I began
to feel sorry for her. After some seconds of further fumbling under her
jumper, she extracted a disc of sodden tissue that she placed on the
floor next to me, at some distance from herself and the howling infant. I tried not to look at it, in case it put her off
what was proving to be quite a delicate procedure.
After all this, baby Ben, now very wide awake indeed, decided he
wasn't really peckish after all and refused to latch on. But eventually,
Sharon persuaded him to feed. An expression of intense pain
flashed across her face. All bragging, indeed any talking at all on her part, ceased. About three minutes later Ben lost interest and
detached himself from his mother's chest. I swear a roguish grin crossed his two-week-old face.
As for his mother, a look of disappointment and guilt replaced the furrowed concentration
on her face. "Feeding's going really well, but still, I'm thinking
of going to a breastfeeding support clinic on Friday," she said. Truly, I am a horrible person. For at last, when I heard that, I started to warm to her.
Pregnancy in the over 40s has reached a record high - proving how fashionable it's become to have children later in life. The conception rate has risen across women of all ages - but is most marked in the over 40s. Pregnancies have jumped up by more than 6% from 11.5 per 1,000 women aged 40-44 in 2005, to 12.2 last year. It's worth remembering that the over 40s still account for a tiny percentage of all births - around 3% - but that figure has tripled over recent years as more women, like myself, defer childbearing until later in life.
The Telegraph reports that the news will prompt 'fears that the growing number of older mothers is placing increased pressure on maternity units'. Writing as someone aged 40 and 21 weeks pregnant, you can imagine how thrilled I was to read that. It's such rubbish that older women are causing problems in the NHS.
Apart from going mental when I told a locum GP I was pregnant and she asked me (without looking away from her screen) if I was planning on continuing with my pregnancy, (I never went back to her) I follow all the instructions in pregnancy - little or no alcohol, sticking to (probably spurious) caffeine limits, no cold remedies, fear of pate and liver, obsession with pasteurisation, location of nearby hospitals etc. My roots are growing through grey; I'm too scared to risk hair colouring. Baths are tepid.
Every health professional I've interviewed for my book on being an
older mum, Fashionably Late, agrees that older mums are often less of a
problem to the health service because, like me, they're compliant and do as
they're told, like cutting out smoking, since they want the child so much. That leads to reduced (or zero) risk of complications like listeria infection, foetal alcohol syndrome, poor growth rates.
So it's a
bit rich to blame older mums for strains in the health service, whose
problems obviously go far beyond a few later starters like myself having babies
later on in life.
Needless to say, The Telegraph does not miss the opportunity to have a dig at women concentrating on their careers, claiming that when professional women return to work after having children they often move 'into jobs where the average employee lacks even A-levels'. Can this be true? It's not my experience - or that of my friends. But still, makes for grisly reading.
Older women are often attacked for their 'selfish' emphasis on 'careers' (for 'career' read, grafting away in some horrible job to pay rent/mortgage while being messed around by some bloke too immature to commit to family/children) but this means we've paid shedloads more in tax to fund the NHS. So why shouldn't we cash in our tax investment and get something back? Most of us won't be getting any tax relief on childcare expenses, or much in the way of government maternity benefits, (unlike in most European countries) so we might as well enjoy having our babies on the NHS.
Childbirth Fashionably Late - the book Older mother Health Pregnancy Work Work vs mothering
I am reading accounts of women giving birth the way I used to eat cashew nuts - unable to stop myself and always wanting more. Ina May Gaskin, Sheila Kitzinger, Kate Mosse, Lesley Regan, Zita West, Janet Balaskas
- their books form tower blocks next to my bed. I look forwards to bed
time the way I used to enjoy Friday nights after a long week at work.
It's my chance to read about how other women coped with pregnancy and
childbirth. This would be fine, were it not for the fact that I cannot
persuade my husband Va-vay to share my enthusiasm for these books.
Don't get me wrong, Va-vay could not be more supportive of my pregnancy
- in a practical, solution-oriented sense. He does lots of shopping,
cooking, cleaning, laundry and childcare. When Beanie woke last night
at 2.30am it was Va-vay who got up and searched for Calpol, then sat
with her until she fell back to sleep. At about 5am. It was Va-vay who
got her up two hours later, got her to nursery, took out the rubbish
and went to work.
In fairness to him, all that activity doesn't leave much time for
reading. But last week I did mention to him that since he's my birth
partner it would be nice if he could read up on labour. At the time he
became rather huffy. Accused me of accusing him of being
'unsupportive."
"No, Va-vay, that's not what I meant," I protested. "I'd just like us
both to be involved in the labour. For us both to know what's going on.
So you understand the emotional side too."
"I know all about emotions, living with you," he said.
I dropped the subject.
Then on Sunday I bought a book on potty training for Beanie and left it
in the bathroom - home to the potty training action. Later that evening
Va-vay came out of the bathroom, quite jubilant, and started quoting
facts from the book at me.
"Do you know what 'lifting' is?" he asked me.
"Errr, no. Why?"
"It's the practice of putting children on the potty last thing at night. Very controversial."
"Right. Well, thank you for letting me know that."
"If you want me to read any of those books on childbirth just leave
them in the bathroom too and I'll take a look at them," he said with a
jaunty air. No doubt he plans to quote salient facts back at me. He is
just not taking this seriously. My private bits are risking mutilation.
There will be pain, blood and gore - however well it goes. I don't want
Ina May and Sheila left in the bathroom - it feels disrespectful.
Bring on our birth preparation workshops. Then I will have him
discussing feelings. In a group. With people he doesn't know. Ah,
vengeance.
Shedworking, one of my favourite sites, is running a theatre review I wrote for them about a production of Walden, a one-man show from Magnetic North about a man who flees civilisation to live in isolation in a hut in the woods. It was great fun going to the theatre (they even gave me a complimentary press ticket, something I haven't enjoyed in years) and because I went on my own I chatted to other people in the audience afterwards. Nothing to do with late parenting, but a mini-highlight of the weekend.
Somewhat closer to home, Va-vay, Beanie and I went to our local Home Birth Support Group at the
weekend. Beanie was entranced when a pregnant lady stuck her tongue out
at her (in a friendly way) - and revealed a rather splendid tongue
piercing. I knew I needed the Support Group after I told a friend last
week I was planning a home birth and she said: "What if you die?" My
friend, who is not from this country, then said: "Well, maybe compared
to an NHS hospital birth it is the best thing to do." Huh. It's one thing for me to criticise the NHS, but I don't like it when other people do. The Support
Group nodded and smiled when I recounted all this, before bursting into tears, and said they hear this kind of thing a lot. They said that
statistically home births are safer than hospitals. That people who are
negative about you having a home birth are often just worried for you.
Beanie beamed as I sat cross-legged on the floor, weeping, then made
friends with a small boy wearing a T-Shirt saying "Born at Home". Although not yet two years old herself, Beanie loves pointing out "babies" she sees out and about, saying the word "baby" in great excitement, as if the child in question belongs to a different generation from herself. When in fact there's an age gap of twelve months between them. She
spent the rest of the event cuddling the "baby". His mum was there too. Alive and
well.
Other News
A friend is organising a fertility afternoon at the Aditi Yoga Centre
in Edinburgh on Sunday 2 March from two till five. This is a chance to
hear expert speakers on how to improve the chances of becoming
pregnant, maintaining a healthy pregnancy and much more. Topics
covered include acupuncture, chinese herbal medicine, homeopathy, mind
and the body, natural ovulatory cycle, nutrition and yoga. Open to
all. Donation £5 per person.
Activities Angst Childbirth Daughter Dilemmas Friends Fun Health Home birth Out and about Pregnancy
My copy of Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin arrived yesterday from the Book Depository
after the pregnant wife of one of Va-vay's colleagues recommended it to
me last week. Many readers of this blog may already know of Ina May Gaskin,
(I have to confess I didn't) but for those who don't, she is a
'self-taught' lay midwife who has helped pioneer ideas we nowadays take
for granted in modern obstetrics, like fathers being present at births,
the usefulness of breathing techniques, and an end to routine
episiotomies. She was one of the first people to present pregnancy,
childbirth and breastfeeding from a spiritual perspective and is known as "the mother of authentic midwifery". I stayed up
till 2.30am last night reading Spritual Midwifery,
literally unable to put it down, fascinated by stories of women giving
birth at home in a hippy commune in 1970s Tennessee known as The Farm. Although the photos of beautiful, long-haired Madonnas and bearded husbands date the book to a vanished era, the book has a universality and timelessness that makes it as relevant today as ever. Inspirational and
uplifting.
I have made up my mind about one thing. My baby will not be having a supernatural birth. Trawling through Amazon, I came across Supernatural Childbirth. It promises 'a practical and realistic look at God's promises for conception, pregnancy and delivery'. Supernatural Childbirth even includes a 'powerful teaching section on ex-planning [sic] the curse on Eve in the Garden of Eden.' As if labour isn't bad enough, who wants an exorcism to boot?
Call me a sissy, but Unassisted Childbirth isn't high on my list of preferences either. The blurb promises advice on giving birth without medical 'intervention', pointing out that women did exactly this for thousands of years. Curiously enough, the blurb doesn't mention that millions of women died in the process. You know, all that curse on Eve stuff that the supernatural crowd were going to remove. Am still aiming for a water birth at home - but if it doesn't work out that way, I'm not going to beat myself up with rolled-up copies of Unassisted Childbirth. As long as the baby is safe - surely that's all that matters?
And I'm certainly not planning on doing it alone. Please, no.
Afterthought
Friend at dinner on Friday: "Did you know that flats strong enough to take birthing pools command a premium in the Edinburgh property market? Estate agent particulars list them nowadays."
Anybody planning on giving birth in Edinburgh might be interested to know about the city's Birth Resource Centre. They have birth preparation days for couples, pre- and post-natal yogal classes, a library of useful pregnancy and birth books (I've got my eye on The Water Birth Book by Janet Balaskas) and a support group for home births. More importantly, their staff are warm and kind. And they rent birthing pools. Last time I was pregnant I dragged Va-vay along to NCT lessons - and we were lucky enough to meet a great crowd of people, almost all of whom we still meet up with regularly. Life would have been pretty dismal without the NCT crowd, who've provided company and good cheer over the past couple of years. I hope they don't mind me saying that. But Va-vay and I were slackers during the actual lessons - we kept skiving off for dinners out, thinking (correctly) we wouldn't have much chance to go out once the baby arrived. Va-vay is also incorrigibly private - and curled up with embarrassment at discussing pregnancy in front of people he didn't know at the time. Not my problem, really. It's more getting me to shut up that's my issue, especially when I get nervous. But, anyway, my knowledge of childbirth and labour positions is sketchy - though I have no-one to blame but myself. This time I'm going to try and learn up a bit more. Less skiving. More swotting.
Childbirth Friends Health Home birth New baby Out and about Pregnancy Water birth Books
Met Lorna, the midwife, yesterday for my pregnancy booking visit at our local health centre. I'm fourteen weeks pregnant. Va-vay and I are quietly ecstatic. Sorry to have been so coy about it - but after the miscarriage I didn't dare say too much and we had some wider family issues as well.
Huge relief to see it was Lorna doing the booking, as we know her from having Beanie. She took so much time to listen to us and treated me like a human being
– not like I’d lost my marbles because I was having a baby, or was a lower form of life because I didn't have a medical degree. She was warm, intelligent and kind - I felt so grateful I hugged her at the end.
Lorna held the Sonicaid to my stomach to listen for the baby’s
heartbeat. "Don't freak if I can't find it," she warned me. "It’s still really early days to pick up a heartbeat." "Don't worry, I won't freak," I fibbed, then clambered up onto the narrow bed. But she found the little
tiddler and we heard the heartbeat thudding away. Tears splashed down
my face. Va-vay red-eyed too. Lorna looked pleased.
We talked about the delivery. "What we normally suggest for someone who's had a previous delivery like yours is one of three options - either an elective section, a deep, elective episiotomy or..." and she paused, presumably seeing from my face how I felt about doctors getting their knives out on my private bits again: "a home birth".
And as soon as she said 'home birth', I knew that's what I wanted. Have been thinking a home/water birth for ages, but didn’t dare suggest it. Thought the hospital might get funny about my age, plus the delivery last time round wasn't that straightforward (forceps, theatre, blood transfusion).
The hysterical part is that Va-vay is going to get a structural engineer to come and see whether the floor joists in the flat are strong enough to take the birthing pool. It would make a great scene in a movie, but I don’t want to plunge through to the flat underneath us while giving birth. Can't imagine the neighbours would be too thrilled either. But I’m so pleased – a water birth.
Lorna is going to find me a different consultant this time. I was meant to have the same woman as last time, who reminded me uncomfortably of another (fragrant) doctor. The only time I met her I was 'plumbed in' and bleeding heavily; I could hardly walk (much less sit down) and my brand-new nightie (bought by Va-vay in honour of the occasion) was covered in blood and meconium. I'm afraid it's no exaggeration to say I stank. A farmyard would have been fragrant in comparison. Photos of me show a face so puffy from exhaustion my eyes have almost disappeared.
The consultant, in contrast, was the picture of elegance. She sat down (without effort), crossed her legs (it took me weeks after the birth to do that), put the tips of her fingers together, tilted her head back, and proceeded to pontificate on what had happened. It was like being in a tutorial. Then she asked if I wanted to be in a research project into whether 'unfit' women have more difficult deliveries. What a cheek. After I managed to point out I couldn't exercise in the final trimester with Beanie because I was almost crippled with symphysis pubis pain, Va-vay declined on my behalf. He was almost rude.
With any luck I won’t need to go into a hospital again during this pregnancy. Everything else seems so different this time round to how it was expecting Beanie. Lorna asked if I wanted blood tests for abnormalities – and when I said no, she just accepted that, saying of course she understood. Last time, the midwife frowned when I declined the same tests, and insisted on reading out statistics for the likelihood of Down’s, then pausing and looking meaningfully at me and Va-vay.
At last I feel excited about this baby – all the happiness I haven’t
dared trust is bubbling up to the surface. The first three months of pregnancy I couldn’t allow myself to
believe it would happen. Now I’m looking forwards to
July.
Does anyone have any personal experience of home and/or water births? Please let me know if so.
Depressing to read that mature mothers are allegedly responsible for putting pressure on maternity units. I've heard some lame excuses for the lack of NHS funding and its creaking infrastructure, but really, isn't blaming new mothers who happen to be a few years older than average scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel? The story claims the increasing number of women giving birth in later life is putting pressure on maternity units that do not have enough specialists to deal with complications associated with older mothers. Curiously, the article omits to mention that the overall birth rate has been climbing in recent years, which might have something to do with the pressure on maternity units. Nor does it dwell on the amount of funding going into maternity care. The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists estimates that to provide safe care for all women in labour, the number of consultants needs to rise from 1,600 to 2,500 immediately, and more will be needed if the trend for women to give birth later continues. We older mums are costing the NHS because we are more likely to need a Caesarean or run into serious difficulties during delivery and so require consultants to be available. How inconsiderate of us.
Wonderful to read of Paula Radcliffe's victory in the New York Marathon, just nine months after giving birth to her daughter Isla in January. Brilliant news, especially after her terrible time in the Athens Olympics. Radcliffe, who's thirty three, is talking about competing in the 2012 London Olympics and having another child before then. Which could conceivably make her an older mum. Go, Paula. It's not just the British flag you're flying. You're an inspiration to us all.
Those scientists have been at it again. This time they're debunking a few myths about late pregnancy. Turns out we can forget about cleaning skirting boards to get baby into position. According to The New York Times, all that cleaning makes no difference.
Shame, because I thought getting down on our hands and knees in readiness for labour was nature's way of getting the baby into position - and the nest ready. A nice two-for-one, if you like. Clean flat, ready for new baby.
However, researchers did find that women who went onto their hands and knees during the actual delivery succeeded in reducing their pain. My midwife asked me to do this, but what with the epidural, exhaustion, morphine and joint pain, it didn't go too well.
Va-vay didn't look like the gentle, bearded Scandinavian dads they showed us in the ante-natal videos, either. For starters, he was a lot more anxious - perhaps that his wife and unborn daughter might topple off the bed.
I accidentally plunged into the world of obstetrics again yesterday, in what was meant to be a break from hard-core mothering, during a lunchtime talk at the tented International Book Festival from writers Janice Galloway and Alan Warner on their launch of a not-for-profit publisher in Edinburgh called Long Lunch Press. Galloway and Warner set up Long Lunch with Arts Council funding to ensure an audience for unusual writing they believe deserves to reach the public but that wouldn't attract a commercial publisher.
Hearing this, I was sorely tempted to put my hand up and recommend blogs for the purpose of reaching readers but managed to refrain. However Vanessa at Fidra Books has plenty to say on the subject of not-for-profit publishing in this forthright and shrewd account
of why she doesn't think publishing that sneers at profit makes any sense - and why instead of producing
unread pamphlets Long Lunch should be promoting their work here on the net.
In keeping with the theme of unusual subject matter, Galloway read to us from Rosengarten, her prose-poem discussing the obstetric tools of child birth. It was the difficulty of finding a publisher prepared to accept this
decidedly difficult account of childbirth that prompted Galloway to set
up her new publishing venture.
When Galloway told her audience there was to be a reading about
obstetrics, I must admit I thought what the many commercial publishers
who turned it down obviously did too. And after the reading one couple got up and left,
the woman white-faced.
But now I've had to time to get used to the
idea, I rather like Rosengarten, which sheds light on a closed world. Stick with me here while I quote from the book, I was initially shocked too, but it's worth persevering.
"This is the business of life
with death, two balances in
precise relation. This is the
business of drawing air and
of drowning fluids, of
slickness and dry compression. Of making
two from one, of nerves
and channels, down and
muscle and veins. Of dark
to light, a business carried
out under the broil of
woollen covers, a business
of touch and steel and
random happenstance
There is bleeding of course.
And splitting and aweful surrender."
For their research, Galloway and her co-author studied obstetric implements, mainly forceps, through the ages, hunting through cases at the Wellcome Museum of Anatomy and Pathology, the Edinburgh College of Surgeons and the Hunterian Museum . Their conclusion? "Raking about... showed how little over centuries the basic designs of the implements have changed."
Maybe the implements themselves remain unchanged, but one aspect of obstetrics that could usefully change is the continuing secrecy and embarrassment about the process of childbirth. Perhaps women do deserve to hear more about what childbirth is really like, and it would be worth overcoming our natural squeamishness for that to happen. Our ante-natal classes were great for making friends, but I learnt little that was useful about the actual birth, then spent months afterwards in shock.
Then again, if someone had presented me with a copy of Rosengarten in pregnancy, would I have wanted to know? Nowadays, of course, I'm fascinated by anyone prepared to talk frankly about childbirth, even if it happens unexpectedly.
Breastfeeding Health Pregnancy Blogging Childbirth Festival Books Dilemmas