This birth story from Susan shows how with the right support and guidance, she avoided the NHS’s generalised prescription of induction to older mums. Susan reached out for guidance and booked a sweep, and ended with a fabulous natural birth to her son
Not allowed to go past my due date
I was 40 when I got pregnant so was placed under consultant care from the start. I was shocked at my first consultant appointment when I was told that because of my age I “wouldn’t be allowed” to go past my due date and that I’d be induced the week running up to it – I came home deflated.
My first little boy’s birth had been incredible; laboured at home for as long as possible, arrived at the hospital at 7cm, jumped in the pool, caught him myself as I breathed him out, home within 6 hours. So I really had not imagined a birth requiring intervention this time either.
Thankfully, “FromBumps2Babies” Linda had just started doing some live chats on Facebook which somehow I found and that very week’s subject was the “science” (or lack of it!) of “THE” due date. She talked about the outdated method which is used to work out the date, she gave the stats on the likelihood of someone giving birth on that day – it turns out it’s not very likely at all. She suggested we should start calling it a due period instead – baby could arrive anytime between 38 and 42 weeks after all.
I started to relax
I relaxed knowing that baby would come when baby was ready and that we would make an informed decision regarding any intervention at the time. I also stopped telling people that my due date was the 25th March 2021, instead it was “sometime at the end of March, beginning of April”.
Thankfully my next few consultant visits were much better and a few were even cancelled because things were going so well and normally. However, by the start of March, the scans were frequent, baby was “measuring big” and there was a virus on the way to our shores.
The pandemic began
We began to shield, so that our birth plan – to again stay at home for as long as possible and scoot to the hospital for the final bit – stayed as intact as it could. On 23rd March, the prime minister announced a national lockdown and instructed everyone else to join us in staying at home. We declined two offers of induction and even a caesarean section during those final weeks.
The pressure I felt to get the baby out of me was horrendous. The nightly news was terrible. And baby was “late”.
I messaged Linda, introduced myself and explained everything (all about my previous water birth, that this baby had tracked the 90th centile throughout, that hubby was big, that I’d been tested for gestational diabetes twice and that my waters and placenta were healthy). I sent her my notes and she rang me. She encouraged me no end. To be honest, she was cross with how I’d been treated.
Trying to get things moving
Over the next few days, I bounced on my birthing ball, expressed some colostrum, as advised by Linda, to try and get things moving, and tried not to watch the news. Honestly, those days were hard and horrible. My confidence in my body to birth this “huge” baby had been damaged and really undermined by the last consultant. I was very emotional.
On 1st April, I booked Linda to come to our home and give me a sweep. I am sure I could have had this done by the NHS for free, but perhaps because of COVID or perhaps because of their treatment of me, I just did not want to. I cried when Linda told me that my cervix was soft and ready.
The contractions started
The next morning, on 2nd April, my contractions began.
I spent the morning with my husband and son, playing games as usual and just pausing to breathe through each contraction. By lunch, things had quietened down, and I headed upstairs for a snooze. After I woke up, we walked my little boy round the corner to see Nanny and his uncle and auntie for his sleep-over.
Dropping him off felt very emotional, being in someone else’s house for the first time in ages felt very emotional, in fact just seeing other people in the flesh was incredibly emotional. The “childcare” was now sorted and as we left it was like my body knew it was now okay to get things going. The contractions got very spiky all of a sudden. We walked back round the corner and through the park, stopping for contractions on the way. We got home, grabbed a sandwich and phoned the hospital.
They told us to come straight to delivery, they could tell!
Baby was coming!
The five-minute car journey was a blur, contraction after contraction after contraction. My husband was amazing.
We skidded into a very empty hospital car park at 5.35pm and made our way in the lift to the delivery ward, overly aware of the COVID infected buttons and door handles. The midwives greeted us at the door with a wheelchair (I think they could hear me “moo-ing”), they got me into a room fast, confirmed I was 9cm and started filling up the birthing pool.
They then started reading my notes and suggested, due to baby’s size, that I stay on all fours on the bed. By then I really did not care – baby was coming – and with some gas and air, I breathed him out. It was crazy and intense, but the sense of relief, especially after the days and weeks we had just had, was incredible.
Joshua arrived
And just like that, at 6.35pm, our “huge” baby was here – Joshua John Robinson. He weighed “just” 9lbs 2 and all was well.
We had skin to skin, and he latched on for his first feed within the first hour. I had stitches for my second degree tears, took a shower and was back at home just after midnight.
