Sharing a birth story for me is like opening a door into your most favourite, cosy room in the house and settling into the lounge with a cup of tea. Intimate, warm and special. I love hearing how other women's babes arrived in the world.
So pull up a chair and share in Rafferty's special journey and arrival.
Rafferty first came to me in my dreams in 2009. After Aurelia's arrival in 2008 I was convinced that I was not going to have any more children. My husband, after watching me endure a very difficult pregnancy with severe HG, emergency c-section, premmie arrival and surgery following her delivery, felt he couldn't ask anymore of me and was happy to accept the decision to only have one daughter, with whom he was totally smitten.
So it was a surprise when I started to have the same recurring vision, a stronger feeling than a dream, while we were backpacking overseas and walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain.
Always the same 'vision', always the same words - a little boy chasing his sister across the hallway who would stop and look at me with big blue eyes, fair curls, laughing and looking me in the eyes shouting "c'mon mummy". I always 'knew' this little boy was called Rafferty. From where this name came I have no idea, it was never a name I liked, it was just his name from the very beginning of the dreams.
Time passed and I was not ready in my heart to welcome another baby into our family. We really wanted to be sure we were ready to grow our family and that we wanted too, rather than it was what was expected.
It was in 2011 that my heart started to change. I was having the same vision but now I felt myself open to the idea of welcoming another little soul into our lives. When Nick and I spoke we were on the same page surprisingly. While I was petrified of getting and being pregnant again I found myself excited at the thought of welcoming another life into our family - this little boy from my dream.
Almost like Rafferty was waiting for a cue to move from my heart and dream into my womb, as soon as we decided we wanted to go ahead, the next month we fell pregnant.
I knew almost straight away and all the early pregnancy symptoms rushed back to remind me how hard it had been with Raya. I found a high risk obs and he compassionately supported me through 26 weeks of HG and insulin dependant diabetes.
This time we excitedly found out the sex of our baby at the scan, with tears pouring down my husbands face, but I already knew. I had always known - it was a little boy.
We kept the sex a secret until we decided to tell our daughter later in the pregnancy when it looked like Rafferty was going to arrive well before his scheduled due date.
We made the decision to attempt a VBAC and attended a Calmbirth course with Julie Clarke at Sylvania which I would highly recommend. I must have enjoyed the relaxation exercises because following the first one, I lost my mucous plug.
At 28 weeks I had a horrible gastro bug which saw me admitted to hospital and at 29 Rafferty decided he wanted out too. I found myself on nifidepine, steroid injections and $400 progesterone pessaries to keep him in,slowly ticking off each day at a time.
My obs felt rafferty would be born before 32 weeks and I was pretty much on bedrest with contractions coming on just from standing up. While I was enjoying this pregnancy more than the first, it was hard. Damn hard.
My ILs moved in for several weeks to help us reorganise our house, drive me around, look after our 4 year old daughter and ensure I didn't stray from the lounge with the exception being my daughter's birthday party for which I had contractions throughout.
At 36 weeks I stopped the nifideprine and the pre labour kicked off almost straight away. Some days I had waves every 3 minutes apart but nothing progressed despite using clary sage oil (which smells dreadful) and bouncing on a fitball which isn't the greatest experience when bubs is engaged.
My obs began to discuss the likelihood of a c-section and how he would attempt induction using a foley catheter as the last fetal wellbeing scale showed bubs to be over 4kgs at full term, with his head measuring 3 weeks ahead and him being above the 90th percentile. Induction was planned for 38 weeks but Rafferty was as engaged as he could get without me going into labour and when he did an internal exam he said he could easily break my waters. Seemed all the pre labour was working well.
At my 37th week consult I mentioned to him that my hands had swelled up dreadfully trapping my beautiful wedding rings in an agonising fashion on my hands, while my feet hadn't. I also mentioned I had a headached and slight flashy things in the side of my vision.
My obs took my blood pressure which was fine but still wanted me to get day assessment on Friday the 13th. Hubby and I trundled off for day assessment, sitting around bored while each BP reading returned perfect. Until my urine and blood test came back and my protein levels were through the roof!!!
My obs allowed us to return home that night, get organised, arrange care and spend a final night together with our daughter, and then return at 7.30am on the 14th April for an induction.
After all the measures to keep him in, now we were forcing him out. Rafferty's rules it seemed!
Bloods were taken and then we were left waiting in the delivery suite while the only midwife went to theatre for a woman having a c-section. Numerous attempts to insert a cannula (7 goes) left me looking like a pin cushion and resenting the intervention. I wasn't keen on this particular midwife ( had met her on earlier admissions) but she was respectful of our wish for a calmbirth without pain relief.
She returned at 10.30am and declared she couldn't break my waters. She claimed bubs was too high and my cervix wasn't open enough. I was shocked. She called my obs and he declared he would come and do the job himself.
The obs arrived and I discovered he had just been treating my sister who had been taken to emergency in another hospital. Muttering how hopeless the midwife was he had my waters broken in a matter of seconds and hubby and I felt like the invisible clock for Rafferty's arrival began to tick.
Contractions began straight away and I was surprised by the amount of blood. My spontaneous waters breaking with Raya were clear but there was so much blood this time. As soon as the midwife left, I sneakily dressed into clothes and once the desk was clear we both beat a hasty exit out of the hospital, walking several lengths of the block in the mid- morning sunshine. We were very excited as the tightenings were regular and I could feel his head pressing down.
When we returned to the delivery suite the midwife informed us she was putting up the syntocin. No thanks. But a phone call to the obs informed us syntocin was going to be used in a small amount initially and then couldn't be used to assist labour any later on.
Almost immediately the waves, which were already regular began to increase in duration. I was 1 minute apart lasting for 1 minute.
Having been fully dilated before my first c-section and ready to push with only needing Panadol I faced these waves confident and perhaps a little cocky at my ability to cope and our ability to work as a team.
The labour was intense and it caught me off guard. A vice like intensity that left me internally screaming for mercy and verbally screaming foul language at my husband while he encouraged me to visualise my pictures. I remember telling him what to do with his visualisation. We tried massage, using the fit ball, breathing, sitting on the toilet and I just couldn't get comfortable. The pressure in my back felt like it was crushing my spine and the pressure across my scar felt ridiculous. I also found it near impossible to not do a wee with every wave.
The shower brought some relief and then the intensity peaked again and I needed more. With tears streaming I screamed at my poor, lovely husband to "do something". He ran me a deep bath and dimmed the lights doing his best to create a safe space for me. Bless this beautiful man. There was a change of midwife and this lovely angel arrived who helped me continue with my calmbirth breathing while I floated through the intense waves in the bath.
However when she said she needed to do an internal I knew I needed help with the intensity of the labour. When she announced I was only 5 cms in two hours I knew I wanted an epidural - despite every earlier protest. I had been praying I was close to transition. The midwife had been surprised to after listening to my body and noises, and she gave hubby the 'let her have it look' and bless that anaesthetist- he arrived in 10 minutes.
Having the epi inserted was hard due to previous spinal surgery and sitting still. I only got a mild one so I could still feel the contractions without feeling like I was being splintered into pieces but had to lie on my side and have a catheter.
There were no other women in the delivery suite and my angel midwife was always right there when I needed her, without hubby or I asking while maintaining our privacy too. We were still the A team hubby and I. He massaged my feet which I could still feel, brought me aromatherapy oils to sniff and gave me endless words of encouragement.
Hubby put up my second stage visualisations of parrot tulips and i began to visualise myself opening up and breathing my Rafferty down, internally telling him how well he was doing and how excited we were to meet him soon.
My obs had me on a deadline - 8cms dilated and baby descended further by 5pm. At 5pm I was 8 cms but bubs wasn't moving down. He gave me another hour to see what Rafferty would do.
At 6pm the midwife did an internal and then holding my hand told me gently that Rafferty had a cone head and was stuck in my pelvis bones. She said I would most likely need a c-section. My obs arrived shortly after, did another internal and told me I was 9 and a bit dilated but Rafferty;s head was cone like and felt wedged in my pelvis.
My hopes of a VBAC were through but the time spent with the midwife following the epi had allowed us to talk through our first birth experience and my desires for the birth of our son. Nick and I looked at each other and I calmly accepted that this was the way our little one needed to be brought into the world. I knew I had given it my best shot.
She was so thoughtful. She said she would stay with us in theatre till the final layer of skin was stitched (rather than the usual 5-10 min cuddle) and that she would bring him over onto my chest as soon as possible.
Every member of staff we encountered (who had all been called back into work on a saturday night) were just wonderful. As I laid on the theatre table being wiped down with iodine my whole body was shaking and the anaesthetist worked overtime to stabilise my blood pressure which was no longer looking so perfect. The obs warned us he would be fast, the theatre lights were slightly lowered at the midwife suggestion and my husband was there beside me with our DSLR ready to capture Rafferty's arrival.
3 minutes. 3 minutes after hours of pain the screen was lowered and I saw my beautiful BIG boy pulled up out of my body. He has been wedged in my pelvis and the obs needed forceps to pull him out. Everyone in the room gasped and some ladies laughed as my obs said to me "chelle he was never going to get out on his own". My beautiful, chubby, full term baby boy.
He did not plead the fifth, he used his healthy lungs from the get go and his apgars were perfect. His daddy got to cut the cord and then he was on my chest. My top pulled down to feel his cheek on my chest. I was shaking so hard I begged hubby to not let him go as I wasn't up to holding him but he lay there calm and alert looking right into our eyes. I began to sing him the bedtime song I sing his sister and he honestly smiled.
The anaesthetist said "did he just smile, did he just smile, the baby just smiled". We were all surprised. After more than 20 minutes of holding him it was time for him to leave and for me to go to recovery. Hospital protocol (which he had worried about while pregnant) was for him to go to the SCN.
Unbeknownst to me the midwife and hubby went back to the delivery suite and weighed, measured him and had skin to skin time there. While I was in recovery I saw lots of phone calls and the nurses bustled around me, their single patient, telling me "we'll get you a first breastfeed in the hour, we'll get the first breastfeed for you". I was teary with hormones and gratitude.
Suddenly they were pushing my bed out of recovery and we were headed down to the elevator. This whole time I thought hubby had been in the SCN with Rafferty. There he was standing with the midwife at the elevator.
"Good timing" the midwife said with a smile. Hubby was grinning from ear to ear. "He belongs with you "she said and she put him on my chest and he rode up to the maternity level tucked on my chest, under the blankets of my bed. As soon as we got into the room, she stripped him off, helped me strip down and he had his first breastfeed 1 minute past his first hour.
It was a beautiful, peaceful c-section. I didn't grieve the loss of the VBAC but counted my blessing that the staff had supported our every effort and that our son, my precious Rafferty was safely, finally in my arms.
I love you Rafferty Jack, the beautiful baby of my dreams who lived so long in my heart and dreams before my arms.
_cover.jpg/300px-Where_The_Wild_Things_Are_(book)_cover.jpg)
