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Talia Anais Golland

It was my first pregnancy. I had tried to find a midwife to deliver the baby at home as soon as I knew I was pregnant (5 weeks) but had been unsucessful. There were at the time only 4 midwives in the Ottawa area who attended home births; three of them were "all booked up" for my due date and the fourth was taking her vacation. I'd signed up for the Birthing Center at the Riverside Hospital at the same time "just in case" I couldn't find a midwife. It's an "experimental" project: 2 birthing suites and an office on the maternity floor, run by six nurse-midwives. As it happened we were living with Martin's parents (and four brothers and sisters) at the time and really didn't have a set-up for a home birth, and also the Birthing Center was completely covered by Ontario health insurance which a home birth would not have been, so it was just as well.

At twenty weeks we went in to see the Birthing Center and talk to one of the midwives. We were given a long list of conditions which must be met in order to be permitted to use the B.C.: within two weeks of due date, head down, clear amniotic fluid etc etc. We borrowed some books from the B.C. library: Janet Balaskas' "Active Birth" and "The Active Birth Partner".

Martin got really into "The Active Birth Partner" - "we have to do massage every day, we have to do our stretches every day" and we ended up dropping out of prenatal classes because he was the only Dad there and the teacher seemed to hold him responsible for the conduct of all the absent teenage fathers. (it was a free Planned Parenthood class for teenage moms. I was 18, Martin 19.)

I had an obstetrician's appointment a week before my due date: head engaged, cervix just beginning to efface - and then she left for vacation, so confident that I was going to go past my date that she had me schedule not only my next-week's appointment with one of her colleagues, but another appointment with her a week after that.

Two days later (Friday morning, July 28) I woke up with contractions. They started out every twenty minutes, by noon were every ten minutes, and continued that way all day. They were also no big deal. What was everyone complaining about? We went out to get snacks to take to the B.C. - Martin doesn't have a license, so I drove. (That I was able to drive should have been a clue that this would take a while, but hey, I'd never been in labour before).

We went home, I had a nap, we made love in an attemp to get things going and, whoopie! contractions every two minutes! After an hour or so of that I called the pager number. The midwife was utterly unimpressed, and told me that if I could still talk through contractions I wasn't in active labour yet. Okay, no problem. We went to bed.

Did I mention that I was unable to lie down while I was having a contraction? For some reason I was only comfortable during a contraction if I was standing up, leaning forward against the wall or a table. I hopped up and down all night.

By two a.m. I couldn't talk through contractions. We hussled ourselves off in a taxi to the hospital, went in through emergency, Janice the midwife examined me - 2 cm. Since I wasn't supposed to be in the birthing center until I was in active labor, and active labor was 3 cm, we went home. I took a bath and contractions slowed to every ten minutes again - but I still couldn't sleep through them!

Next day, same thing. I was starting to get tired. Saturday evening, things started to speed up again and the contractions, besides being every two to five minutes, were so much stronger than before that I was just sure something was happening. At midnight we headed back to the hospital. Janice the midwife examined me - 2 cm. We were told to go home. I hadn't slept in 40 hours. I said, as patiently as I could, "look, I want a natural birth really, really, badly but if I don't get some sleep I won't be able to do it."

Janice was very sympathetic. If we didn't want to go home and wait it out, I could check in to the hospital and get some Demerol to take the edge of the contractions so I could sleep, and hope I was in active labor by morning - but Martin would have to go home, because I'd be in the reglar maternity ward, not the B.C., as I wasn't in active labor yet. Or, if the obstetrician on call would let me, we could go home with a sleeping pill.

The obstetrician on call really didn't like the idea of sleeping pills. The obstetrician on call wanted me to check in, wait until morning, go to the case room and get accelerated.

Janice decided that we could stay in the B.C. "unofficially" because I'd sleep better next to Martin. We were warned that if someone else came in in active labor we'd be kicked out. I was too tired to care. We pulled out the pull-out couch. Martin was asleep almost before I'd gotten the shot of Demerol. Janice went out, and I lay down. And hopped back up again to stand up leaning over, for a contraction. And lay down. And hopped back up again... After an hour I paged Janice and said, "When's the Demerol going to take?" She said, "Half an hour ago. But it doesn't work very well for some people."

Rather than wake Martin up I walked around for the next few hours. I tried the Jacuzzi in the bathroom but I still had to stand up for contractions and when I did the water sprayed everywhere because the jets were above the water level. When Janice came back at 6:30 a.m. I was asleep, sitting on the toilet between contractions (which were still every 5 minutes). She examined me. 2 cm. We discussed my options at length. Janice told me that a prolonged latent phase was very common with a first child and that it could easily go on for another twelve hours, especially if my waters didn't break. I hadn't slept in 2 days!

I finally decided with great trepidation to have an ARM. I figured it was the least intrusive of my choices, I really couldn't stick it out any longer if things didn't get moving - and after 48 hours I was sure this was not false labor, so I was confident that the ARM would have the desired effect. I was warned that I had only six hours after the ARM to get into active labor or I'd be transfered from the B.C. to the caseroom. Then the obstetrician on call, who was miffed because I refused to take some oral prostaglandin with the ARM to "really get your uterus moving", decided I only had four hours.

Janice left and another midwife, Agnes, came in to do the ARM. I liked her immediately, she was very motherly and very Irish and seemed much more confident than Janice. She was worried that I hadn't eaten anything in 24 hours and recommended a glucose IV to "get some calories into me". She promised it wouldn't interfere with my mobility, so I agreed. After doing to ARM (the waters were clear, and I was immediately declared to be 4 cm dilated and hence in active labor) she went to get the IV.

The IV, however, was ultimately unsuccessful; neither Agnes nor another nurse she called in who was supposed to be the expert on IVs could get the needle into a vein. After five or six tries they gave up. Nothing to show for it but bruises on the backs of my hands.

The next five hours were very intense. I stood up and leaned over for contractions and in between was walking around or in the Jacuzzi or sitting on the toilet. I started moaning or oohing through the contractions instead of just breathing through them. It helped me a lot, and it also helped Martin know when a contraction started - he hadn't been able to tell before. He rubbed my back or my legs during contractions. It was hard to let him know what I wanted him to do, and also concentrate on what was going on, and between contractions I was spacey and dazed and almost asleep. I had no sense of time or place; I was completely turned inward. Sometimes I notice Martin or Agnes. They kept trying to get me to drink things - juice, honey water, a popsicle. Martin tried to hold me but during contractions the presence of another body was too distracting and in between I was too wiped out to respond.

At about 11:00 the obstetrician came in (for the first time) and examined me. She made me lie on my back, which I couldn't stand. 6 cm. Agnes told me we'd have the baby out by suppertime. She asked for a urine sample and I realized I hadn't peed in hours. I managed to drizzle out a little which was very dark and I was afraid that I was dehydrated - but none of this was verbalized; it was all on a second level of my mind behind the reality of the labor.

I was in the Jacuzzi by myself when a contraction came that was completely different from the others. I yelled so that someone could hear me over the jets and also because I couldn't moan through that one - I felt something pressing down inside me. Martin came in and I screamed, "get the midwife, get the midwife'"; I was shaking and scared. He didn't know what was going on any more than I did at that point; he thought it was just a really strong contraction. No one expected me to be in second stage yet because I'd been 6 cm just an hour before.

I stumbled out of the tub and Martin dried me off. The obstetrician came in with Agnes and told me to get up on the bed so she could have a look. I asked did I have to, dreading lying down. She insisted. Declared me 8 cm dilated, and left to deliver someone else's baby. I thought, oh, I'm in transition, so that couldn't have been the head I felt moving down. (In retrospect, I believe that was the beginning of second stage, and that Dr. C had misjudged because I was lying down. Martin says he asked Agnes at that point what was going on and she said I was in transition; we'd both expected from our extensive reading that transition would last an hour or more.)

I went and sat on the toilet. I remembered the book saying not to push in transition because the cervix isn't wide enough yet and it's counterproductive. I was terribly worried about the pushing sensations I felt and fighting them as hard as I could. Agnes seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on and I trusted her completely. She was telling Martin to help me breath and me to just look in his eyes and squeeze his hands - and suddenly it went from something I was doing by myself to something we were doing together. I stopped trying to fight and just clung to him and matched his breath.

I put my hand down and felt the tissues bulging out with the head and realized all of a sudden what was happening - and that I was still waiting for someone to tell me that I was in 2d stage and that it was okay to push! I said, "the baby's coming out" but I could tell that Martin and Agnes didn't believe me.

I got up and sort of waddled out into the delivery room and that's when Agnes realized I really was about to deliver. She set up pillow on the bed for me to kneel over. I said, "I want to be on the floor, I want to squat." Agnes hesitated. She said, "When Dr. C comes in she's going to want you up on the bed," but she was putting pillows on the floor for me while she was saying it. Then I had another contraction and she could see the head. She told Martin to pick up the phone and page Dr. C. Then she told me, "If the Dr. tells you to get up on the bed ignore her." (I would have anyway). "Now lets see if we can get this baby out before she gets here. I want you to push." I said, "I don't want to tear." Agnes said, "You won't tear. I'm holding the baby's head. If Dr. C gets her in time she'll want to give you an episiotomy."

I pushed and saw this dark round shape slide out with a gush. I was saying something - "oh wow", I think. I think that was when the doctor got there. Martin says he put the phone down and jumped over the bed to try to get behind me and see the baby and the doctor was in the way. Then I pushed a second time and the body just popped out: 2:35 p.m., Sunday, July 30, 1995. I thought Agnes handed her to me but Agnes says I reached around and took her. Dr. C said, "Now we need a good healthy cry here," and I snapped, "She does NOT need to cry." She was breathing already, eyes wide open looking at me, and I was not about to let the Dr. lay a hand on her. Agnes was wiping the blood of the baby's head and giving me a warm flannel to wrap around her. Dr. C said, very business like, "The cord's stopped pulsing. And I need to get her 5-minute Apgar." I let her have the baby. Martin cut the cord. Her Apgar was 9 - I guess she lost points on the "good lusty cry".

Dr. C told me to get up on the bed so she could "have a look at your bottom" - I was starting to hate this woman. I said, "Honey, take off your shirt and hold the baby" and Agnes gave Martin our daughter. I climbed up on the bed. The Dr. took some of the cord blood to test and then did controlled cord traction before I knew what was going on - without asking - and I'd written on the birth plan that I wanted to deliver the placenta spontaneously! I had a very tiny labial tear. No big deal, I thought at the time but it took almost 3 weeks to heal and stung like hell every time I peed.

I took the baby back and Dr. C left. Martin says he went out to the balconey then because he was crying but I didn't even notice him go. I was completely absorbed in the baby. Agnes helped me get her latched on, and showed me the placenta. Martin came back and we spent more time staring. She was so perfect. Agnes took some photos for us. After an hour or so she did the newborn procedures - measuring, weight, eye ointment, vitamin K - and wrapped the baby, and helped me get in the bath.

Martin and baby and I all got in bed on the pullout couch and Agnes left. We ordered pizza because it was Sunday night and the cafeteria was closed. We were very tired and time seemed to go very quickly but we didn't sleep at all (except the baby). We had the whole night to ourselves and then baby and I had a bath together in the morning before the baby nurse and the pediatrician came in to check her out. One of them left our file on the table and we had great fun reading it, especially the notes on our first interview about how unlike the usual teenaged parents we seemed. Agnes had written that I'd given birth "as if it were her 3d or 4th baby", which made me feel good.

By 10:00 we were packed up and ready to go. We were going to take her home on the bus because we didn't have a carseat yet but Martin didn't want to expose her to all the bus germs so we took a taxi. Then we got home and realized we'd forgotten the placenta in the freezer in the B.C. so I left the baby with Martin and drove back to get it. Then we went in our room and put a sign on the door and got back in bed with Talia.