My birth story: Round 3, Jett

I had two false starts, one a week before birthing and another two nights. Contractions started but then stopped. The second false start, we called a friend to look after the kids, but when she arrived, things slowed down. I felt guilty.

Eventually, on the 5th of February, a Sunday at 3:30 am, the real thing happened, and I started experiencing regular contractions (every 6 minutes, contractions were 1 minute long). James used his timer on the iPhone to record them. The night before, we had a very relaxed evening at home. We watched the Pamela Anderson documentary. I had a gin and tonic (my grandmother's recipe to bring on labor and contractions).. it worked. My grandmother had 5 natural births, so I was glad her fail-safe formula also worked for me.

According to my dates and last period, I was exactly 40 weeks pregnant. According to the scan, I was 39 weeks. I knew when we had conceived because we were on holiday in Thailand with friends. James got drunk and decided to do the windmill (if you don't know what this is, have a google). It “turned” me on so much that one thing led to another, and a baby was made that night. 40 weeks later, Jett made his appearance.

On the day, I woke James up at around 4 am to tell him it was happening. We stayed in bed for a while and chatted about what to do with the two older kids. He made me a cup of sweet tea because I fancied that. I watched some funny Tiktok videos to make me laugh and take my mind off the pain. By 05:50, though, I felt I needed to get moving, so I went for a walk along the seaside. Listening to the waves made me feel calm. I sat on a bench and did some deep breathing. It was all very therapeutic. I remember feeling so powerful and strong. When I could feel it was getting more intense, I walked home, and by that time, the kids were slowly waking up. James made them breakfast while I sat on the birthing ball in the lounge. Hearing their little voices and them eating breakfast took my mind off my contractions for a bit. But by 8 am, I knew I had to get to the hospital quite soon.

At 8:12, I took a photo of us in the car park. I was bent over trying to deal with some pretty hectic contractions while James fiddled with the car as..surprise, surprise, it would not start! The kids and dog were running riot in the car park. We tried to get a taxi, but they were all 20 mins away. Luckily, we saw some friends heading to the zoo on a family day in the car park. James asked if they could kindly take us to the hospital and drop the older kids off with friends. I managed to keep calm in the car but was in pain. I was so relieved when we finally reached the hospital; the journey took about 35 minutes and 4 sets of intense contractions.

We went to the delivery suite assessment area when we got to the hospital. At this point, I was still calm. The midwife checked how far along I was- 4cm dilated, and that we still had time, so she sent James downstairs to sign us in properly. I found it so tough to hear that I was only 4cm, especially considering my pain levels were 6/10 at the time. Anyway, things seemed to escalate fast after this. Suddenly, the contractions were coming in fast, with no breaks. I asked for an epidural and to get James as I needed support. The anesthetist arrived 15 minutes later and started cleaning my back when James returned to the room. James was furious about not being called- he could tell that the baby was crowning, so it was too late for the epidural. He stopped the epidural from going ahead. I was out of it and fully “in the zone" at this point, but I could feel drama around me.

The midwives decided they needed to get me onto the labor ward pronto. I felt my hospital bed being transported while the baby was coming out. James was pushing the bed as fast as he could with the midwives. He was supporting me from the top end of the bed while a midwife was at the bottom end of the bed. I then heard the midwife telling me to slow down with the pushing, in fear that I would tear if it happened so fast, but I could not stop; the pressure was intense.

Jett arrived at 9:43 am in the corridor, as we entered the birthing room, 50 mins after we arrived. My doctor did not make it in time and was only there to deliver my placenta after I had Jett. The third stage was the most painful. I could take Jett off James, who was doing skin-to-skin with him and proceed with the first feed.

It does feel that certain parts of my birth were more stressful than they should have been, what with the broken down car, James nearly missing the birth, and the nurses not believing me about being further along than they thought. But it is always a relief when your baby is born healthy and strong. I had no tearing at all, not a single graze, and I think that was down to the midwife putting pressure on my perineum while wheeling the bed into the birthing room and not having the epidural- so I could feel when to push.

The incredible thing about Jett’s birth was that he was born in his sack. It is called en caul. 1 in 80 000 births. Sadly I didn’t get a picture because it was all so quick. They broke it pretty quickly to check if the water was clear and if there was no infection. Since I’ve learned this is very lucky, and Winston Churchill, Sigmund Freud and others were born in their sack too. So who knows what path Jett will take :)