This Page Features Inspiring Hospital Births Of Big Babies



10lb 2.5oz Scarlett's Birth By Emma Dunn

 
9lb 13oz Jacob's Birth By Kedi Simpson

I started timing contractions in the afternoon about 5pm. Called up hospital at about 9pm and they said my contractions weren't regular enough and it could be 48 hours yet! Had a bath, strapped on the tens machine, had supper, Jo rubbed my back a lot while the contractions finally got stronger. He said afterwards it was his job to keep me out of hospital for as long as possible! We tried lots of different positions to get through the contractions, but I really wanted to be upright during them, so ended up mostly facing the wall, arms folded, forehead on forearms, breathing. Each contraction was lasting for between six and ten breaths and I quickly worked out that once I’d got to breath six, the worst was over. Jo just stood by me and breathed through them with me - it was so much easier to cope when he was next to me, having that moral support.

We finally went in at about 2am. Getting out of the house was fun. Got up from the bed, had a contraction in the hall, two in the front garden, one next to the car before we set off. Three in the car. Had Tens machine on permanent 'boost' by this stage. Got to hospital about 2.30am and getting in was the same as getting to the car - we parked, I got out, had a contraction against the railings. Jo moved the car. Got nearly to the door of the hospital and the security guard came to open the door, and I stopped and had a contraction. Another one half way down the hall. Another one in the corridor of the labour ward.

The first thing they wanted to do when we got in there was monitor me; they strapped me up to a machine to monitor my contractions and the baby’s heartbeat, but they let me stay upright while they were doing it, thank goodness. They were supposed to monitor me for 20 minutes but I only managed 10 before I really needed a poo. That took a good 15 minutes as the contractions kept on getting in the way. It must have been about 3am or 3.30am before I was examined and told I was only 2cm dilated - thought it could be a 2001 baby after all! Felt very disappointed.

Things get a bit blurry after that... I was fairly out of it fairly quickly, but we had a fantastic midwife who just stayed in the background and who read my birthplan and took it totally seriously. My waters hadn't broken so she ran me a lovely hot bath (wasn't allowed in the pool cos I wasn't 5cm) and I think I got in there around 3.30am. Wonderful! Acupuncturist lady (Alison, my hero) turned up about 4am, most impressed that we'd let her sleep for so long, and shoved loads of needles in my ears. Jo was being totally heroic as well - he and Alison where by my side in the bath, and Jo learnt so quickly from what Alison was saying and could really help me. I had lots of instructions ‘don’t fight it’ ‘let it happen’ ‘think about going downwards’. Slept between contractions in the bath - the peace between contractions was wonderful in the bath, although the pain of the contractions wasn't as good as out of the bath. But the time just whizzed by - I'd nod off, wake up for six to ten breaths, then nod off again. I don't think I was totally conscious during a lot of the contractions either. I remember it being 5am, and 6am.

The midwife said she'd come and examine me again at 5.30, but I think it was closer to 6.15 by the time she actually did. I was all set to be told that I was 3cm, but actually I was 8!!!! Was thrilled. That's when I dared ask Alison whether the baby would be born this year, and she said definitely. So I asked what time it got light at the moment and decided that we were going to aim for that! I also asked Alison if I was in transition, because just for a moment I felt really really high.

Was still in the bath when I was convinced I wanted to do a poo, and shouted out during one contraction 'I need to push'. That was a bit scarey because even in my state I knew it wasn’t good to push too early, but Alison just encouraged me to listen to my body and push if I wanted to. So we had to make the move from the bathroom across the corridor to the waterbirth room. I didn't care about being covered over although they wrapped a towel around me as there were two ultra-orthodox rabbis pacing the corridor!

The pool was only half full when I got into it, tap still running, but it was lovely being able to submerge my tummy. I think we got into it about ten to seven or so, and all I kept saying was that I really wanted to do a poo! ‘That’s the baby,’ the midwife said. Time check: no earlier than 6.45am So this was ‘Second Stage’. Was screaming with each contraction - had these huge where I'd indulge my hysteria by screaming blue murder for the first half, then forcing myself to be calm for the other half of them, but I was feeling a lot more alert between pushes. I remember saying, ‘I feel like opening up… not like a rose, though,’ and ‘I’m getting that splitting in two sensation a bit.’

The midwife suggested when I got into the pool that perhaps I'd like to use gas and air for the second stage (I'd had absolutely nothing up until then - didn't want to be fiddled with!), but the idea of concentrating on anything other than holding onto the edge of the pool/Jo's hand was far too much to contemplate. Jake’s head came out - I was on all fours at that stage, and Jo said he could see his face underwater, just looking a bit bemused by it all. They checked that his cord wasn’t around the neck Then I had to move over to a squat and sat there for a moment or two, watching the back of his head, waiting for the need to push again. Quite disconcerting seeing this little head underwater! Then last push and out he came. It was only then that my waters actually broke! (the show came about two minutes earlier!)

We sat in the pool for a while - Jo was crying and I was just thrilled that the pain was over - amazing birth, but boy did it hurt like crazy! Had physiological third stage - I told them in my birth plan that if I’d had a drug-free labour, I wanted a drug-free third stage, and with a bit of active pushing (rather than the spontaneous stuff earlier) out it came, although I didn’t see it. Second degree tear - ouch - they even suggested I might want gas and air while they did the stitches, but REALLY!

We think Jake’s going to be extra lucky in life - they say being born in your waters means you’ll never die by drowning, and also there was a knot in the cord, which can be a cause of stillbirth, but he was absolutely fine and totally chilled throughout the whole labour. I got my six hour discharge so we were back in the car and coming home exactly 12 hours after arriving in hospital.


10lb 8oz Tristan's Birth By Brooke (Brooke is from Australia)

This is the story of my third baby. Born after a homebirth, after a caesarean. I had polyhydramnios, pregnancy induced hypertension, and previously had large haemorrhages post birth. My first 2 kids were 3750g and 3900g, my third, was a 4780g stunner. This was a waterbirth in a tertiary hospital (a big no no lol) and the baby was born in the caul, drug free with NO intervention.

This birth story has been so hard to write. Not because there was trauma, not because there were parts that were hazy and unclear because of drugs. It’s just that it’s a birth story that I find really hard to explain. In my mind my baby began his journey the day before he was born. A Friday. I had two of my doulas over for lunch and just to chill out and get a good feel for how I wanted my birth to go. I was feeling crampy and very blissed out. I could taste every atom in my food that day. I felt sharp and aware of every sensation. As my doulas left that night to do their own thing I felt like I was made of pure electricity. Andrew invited a friend and his girlfriend over to watch a movie and hang out with the kids. We sat up until about 11 watching old movies and just having a laugh. I was going to the toilet about every 30 minutes. I was losing huge amounts of mucous and the twinges really started to get me excited. I closed the front door at about 11.30 and went to bed with Lochlain, knowing in my heart I had a big job in the next few days.

Saturday morning Andrew started work around 5am, I could hear him getting ready at around 4.30am and I remember hearing him leave and thinking that I just had to wait until his shift finished and then I could birth. I went back to sleep and woke at around 9am. Both the boys had slept in and we got up to have a lazy morning in our PJs. I got out of bed and took two steps to the bedroom door. BANG. A contraction. Ok, get a grip Brooke, this is going to be hours yet and you have things to do. Get the kids’ breakfast. I made food, and ate breakfast for myself. I got up to go the toilet. BANG. Another contraction. Or was it? Nah, it was just a niggle, I am not in labour. That hurts far more than this.
 
I turn on the computer and log on to MSN. Laura is free to chat so we have a little rave online, and I let her know that I think I am warming up. I time two twinges while I am chatting, 8 minute gaps between them. But they don’t really hurt in my back, it’s lower and to the front, so surely it’s not even real labour. Laura asks if I need company for the day and I figure why the hell not. I tell her to get her skates on, and see if I can manifest perfection. I try to do the dishes, but the twinges are distracting me. The phone rings. Did I text someone? I don’t remember. I answer the phone. “Megan is that you?” I hiss through gritted teeth at the peak of a twinge. Shit, should have waited until the end of the contraction before I answered the phone. Don’t want to freak her out. But I want someone here NOW. Megan talks to me, I try to tell her I am not in labour, but I am. She decides to come to me. Her and Laura are both about 40 minutes away from me, in opposite directions so I know that I am going to be alone for a while longer.
 
I decide to tell myself I am not in labour. I try to chat more online to people. Nope, can’t do that, I can’t concentrate. I put on a movie for the kids and just pace around the house. I am not in real labour yet, it doesn’t hurt enough. Time passes. I get a text, my witches are 20 minutes away. I sit on the toilet and try to read a magazine. It’s a Zoo magazine, why am I looking at naked women? Ugh. Get up and pace some more. Megan arrives. Greg waits in the driveway in case it looks like I am closer to birthing than I let on. Nope, I smile and wave, have a laugh. I am not in real labour yet. I just need company. Lochlain is extremely ill. He is screaming at me, constantly. His fever rages. He sleeps in fits and wakes to scream and cling to me.
 
Laura arrives. We chat. We have fruit. Fantastic strawberries. And organic chocolate. Oh, and the strawberries and cream lollies too. My water bottle is endlessly refilled. We tidy the boys bedroom. Well, Megan and Laura tidy, while I sit on the edge of the beds. I go silent occasionally and the house honours me. We get the boys lunch. Or at least I assume we did. I stand lots, and just rock every now and then. But I am not hurting yet, so this is going to be hours, days even. I feel stupid for calling the team in so early on in the piece. I need help with Lochlain but he won’t go to anyone. He warms to Megan. And eventually Laura.. He is still screaming. And screaming. I need him to sleep. Someone asks where Andrew is. I explain that I am not calling him home from his shift because he finishes at 1.30pm. My witches roll with that. He comes home and I tell him to go to bed. I need him to sleep so he can be alert for me in the night. I tell him to take Lochlain to bed. I need a break from the screaming.

Will hangs out with us. We eat, chat, laugh. I don’t remember any of what went on in the next few hours. But I certainly wasn’t in real labour yet, definitely not. Andrew arranges for his mum to come for dinner. I am not in labour yet. At least that’s what I have told him. Lochlain wakes and screams some more. This all happens around me in a blur. Megan #2 arrives with a birth ball. I asked for one apparently. Now I can’t bear to look at it. But they talk about brownies, food. So hungry. Laura leaves. Her baby is sick and needs her. I still have two crew. Two Megans. One Megan leaves, Melissa arrives. I have no idea what order that happens in. Lochlain is still screaming. I can hear Andrew snoring. Andrew’s mum arrives for dinner. I am at the kitchen sink. “I am going to have a baby tonight,” I breathe. More activity as she realises I mean I am in labour. But I am not in real labour. It doesn’t hurt yet.

Someone asks about the kid’s clothes for an overnight stay. I remember having packed stuff. Where did I put it? In the car. I get more stuff ready for them, they are excited, because granddad is coming to get them. Who is here? Where is Andrew? He needs dinner. Eat dinner. All of you. Please. I am going to need you all tonight, it’s going to be hours yet. I start to pay a bit more attention to these twinges but am still able to move through them. The kids leave. I wave them off, thinking that it’s still days before I birth, and people are being far too preemptive around me. It doesn’t hurt yet. Andrew eats. A potato crisp sandwhich and a pepsi. I remember that. We are still laughing and chatting. Melissa is easing Andrew into the idea that I am birthing. He resists that I am in labour. I’m not, it doesn’t hurt yet.

Time passes. Someone hands me the phone, someone wants to talk to me. Trying to focus. Hold the kitchen bench. It’s a midwife. I give her my details, and what she needs to know, then BANG a huge contraction. Grip the bench. It’s double backed. I get hit twice in row. Oh, so now I am in labour. That hurt a bit. But it’s not in my back yet. So I still have ages to go. Someone is telling me to go get in the car. I am not ready. This is not real labour yet. It doesn’t hurt enough. Would you all just let me decide. But surely they wouldn’t be jeopardising my birth. Trust, Brooke. Trust them. It’s all lining up, and apparently I am going to give birth whether I want to or not. You hand picked this crew. They seem to know what’s going on. Melissa has made a sanctuary in the car for me. Megan holds my hand. Melissa drives. Andrew follows in his car. I text my family to let them know I am going to birth.

The car trip sucks. I grip the roof. I need to stand up. I can’t sit. Arrive at hospital as Laura pulls up. How did she know? It’s dark. Wow the whole day passed so fast. What time is it? Who cares? Grip signpost, gather strength. WALK NOW. I move fast in a straight line to the toilet. I need to go badly. I still don’t think I am close to birthing. This is stupid take me home. I will just sit in the toilet for a bit, I can just figure out my plan. My plan, get the baby out. Lets just do this. We get to the lift.We get upstairs. Confusion. I didn’t follow some rules. I forget where to go. People talk, doulas sort it. I prove I am in labour, discuss medication needs and get a room. Ooh a ball. Ohh even better, a toilet. Let me get there. Shit, now I am on the toilet, and I have to sit here through a contraction. BAD move. Got to stand. I hold the end of the bed and the side rail and pull/hang off there in waves.
 
I am still talking in between rushes. I feel alive. People are talking to me, and apparently I am making sense. We are laughing a lot. I want to drink a lot. I need to pee a lot. Contractions come and go, this is still not hurting in my back. I am still sure this is not the real thing. Wait a minute. My toe hurts. What on earth? Half my toenail is torn off. Can I have a band aid please. Note to self, find out how that happened later. It’s all so different to how I expected the pain to be. I am coping too well. Surely I should be in the zone by now. Oh well, enjoy the ride, it’s going to be hours. My crew are with me two by two, helping me with cold washers on my back. Holding my hand. Grinning at me. Loving me. This is awesome. My midwife comes, she tells me she has read my birthplan. Cool. She asks if I need anything. I forget she exists and I don’t notice her for ages. I feel anxious about the fact that my membranes are still intact. I am upset and quite angry. Surely they should have exploded by now. I can’t bear the pressure. My midwife speaks, the only time I hear her. She reminds me that my body and my baby have their own plan, that’s it’s all unfolding as it should. She reminds me that my baby knows what he needs and that she has no intention of interfering and if I want to break my waters I have to get on with having a baby. Andrew reminds me to just TRUST. He seems really calm, sane and rational, like he KNOWS that the membranes have a purpose.
 
I move between the toilet and the bed. That’s it. I rock and sway and dance a bit. Hands in the air. Tip my head back. This is awesome. Am I meant to enjoy this? Do I want a bath yet? No, it’s still too early, didn’t we only just get here? It doesn’t hurt enough yet and I don’t want it to all stop. It’s not going to stop Brooke. This is real labour. Someone hands me a warm face cloth. Put this on your peri. Huh? You want something of me. I know it. I can see you want me to do something with this cloth. I don’t understand. Oh, ok. I go along with it. Hmm, give me a few more contractions. I am coping. Megan and Melissa convince me it’s time. Fill it up, it’s going to take a while. It’s ready. Ok, lets get it on. Time to get this baby out please. Take a deep breath. Barrel down the hallway. Clothes off and in I get. Holy shit. Oh no. It’s too hot. Cool it down. Wait, hang on. This hurts NOW. It hurts. I am splitting open. I can’t catch a breath. BANG, whoa, this is hard work and I want to go home. I can’t do hours more of this. It’s too much. It’s too hard. Take me home now. I call out, help. HELP ME. HELP ME. I am in a dark room, in a warm tub. I have smiles surrounding me, calm, grinning faces. I can’t do this, this is insane. Who the hell wants to have a baby? Right now it intensifies about 1000 times and I am hit hard. I feel like if this lasts more than one more hit I will die. Oh, that’s right. This is transition. It will end. Melissa would you stop smiling at me please. Wait a second, I need to push. Uh oh. Andrew, where is he. Shit, I see the midwife’s feet. I am gripping someone, I think it was Megan. Push whoa bear down hard this rocks but wait aren’t I meant to push in bits, this is one long huge push and geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez, what the hell was that? What do you mean it was just the membranes rupturing? NO WAY. What? The heads out? I thought that was just the waters breaking, what do you mean he’s half out. Who’s holding him? No I can’t hang on, deep breath. I am coming.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I just had a baby. Shit that was quick. Hey look, he’s out. Tristan. Wow. He is behind me, so I loop my leg over and grab my baby. Oh my god. That was awesome. Lets do that again. Wooooooooooooohooooooooooooooooo! Andrew has his hand on my shoulder. I feel really warm. He is big, and oh wow he looks so much like Will. I am getting cold and I let the crew know to keep me warm. They remind me to stay present and not let this take me away, I feel a pull to close my eyes. Nope, must stay present. I have a load of hot towels and stuff on me and we drain the bath. The water won’t go down because the caul is stuck in the plug hole. The time to move is now. I need to get on with getting this placenta out. I hand my fresh baby to Megan and her colour changes. I get in the wheel chair. I am warm. We get out into the hall and someone congratulates me. I beam. I have my entourage. Megan holds my baby while I contract more as the placenta moves out. I am really not liking this bit at all. I want to enjoy my baby. But this is kind of uncomfortable. Look at that giant long cord. I am getting impatient with this placenta and feel myself forcefully pushing. I try to hold up on doing that and eventually it comes away easy. Ahh relief. Who is going to cut the cord. I hadn’t picked anyone. Melissa caught him, Megan has held him as his placenta is born, Laura cuts his cord. I am so happy. So, so happy.
 
We weigh him, Andrew is keen to pass on the size when he calls family. What’s his name? Tristan James. He weighs 4.78kg. Andrew leaves relatively soon. I have a shower. This is the first time ever post birth I have showered myself. I stand there. Watching the water and just cry. This is amazing. I climb into bed. I am still high. I talk to the midwife about my blood loss. She is happy to leave it for a bit longer, I am not. I want to relax now. I ask for a shot of syntometrine. She estimates that I am already at 500mls of blood lost and I just want to sleep without worrying about more gushes. She is happy to give me the shot, and if it doesn’t work we will go from there. I have the shot, and then I get comfy. My doulas are still with me, all on a high. The room is abuzz. After a while Laura leaves, and later again Melissa leaves, Megan camps in my room. I think someone set her up on the floor. I drift in and out of sleep. My baby feeds. He smells divine. I feel like I am radiating my high. This is how birth should have been for me all along. This is what makes a birth addict high.




 

10lb 3oz Leo's Birth By Sarah Johnson

My labour started early in the morning, around 5am I think, six days after my due date. Leo was the “latest” baby in terms of gestational age - those six days passed unbearably slowly and gave me a slight idea of the anxiety which some of my clients have suffered who are still pregnant ten or more days after their due date, and are summoned into hospital for discussions about induction.

Again, I spent most of my labour kneeling beside the bed leaning against the side or crawling on all fours on it. Dan was more relaxed this time and I dimly recall him reading The Times (the newspaper he was working for at the time) in an armchair in the corner while I breathed and swayed, on my knees as usual, leaning over the bed. I remember getting onto the bed and going to sleep for what seemed like a long time but which was probably only a minute.

I visited the bathroom around ten or eleven in the morning, and from another room heard the most elemental, eternal poem without words: a woman’s voice crying with effort and pain, a baby’s cry and a man laughing with joy. It was then I felt the now-familiar change in power, that "varoom" sensation which signifies labour shifting up a gear.

By half past 12 I was uncontrollably bearing down and as I grabbed the bed I was sufficiently in control to glance at my watch. "I KNOW that I will have this baby by lunch time," I said to myself.

The "home from home" room had a very small space between the bed and the wall - it was into this space that I wedged myself and it was into this space that the wonderful midwife had to squeeze herself too. I do not remember her name. She was a tall Afro-Caribbean lady of around 40 and seemed to me to be a combination of Olympic athlete and goddess of wisdom and calm.

Leo's was in fact the trickiest of my second stages. For one thing I produced a phenomenal amount of poo! I felt distressed and humiliated by this. For another thing, more importantly, his cord was wrapped round his neck and he was blue.

"Sarah, do you know how to stop yourself from pushing?"

Hooray, another part of Ilana's classes I remembered! I dipped my head down onto the floor and stuck my bottom as high in the air as I could. I was hardly aware at the time of what the midwife was doing; I do know that she was using surgical scissors and so must have been cutting the cord BEFORE Leo was delivered and breathing.