When alannah met zack
A story of resilience and strength, Alannah faced her fair share of challenges during her pregnancy, birth and post-natal journey.
My first pregnancy came with some interesting symptoms. At 19 weeks I began having bad pains in my face. My doctor first thought perhaps it was sinusitis. But with two rounds of antibiotics, the pain didn’t subside. I was then told I had something likened to a disease called Trigeminal Neuralgia; a normally chronic pain illness brought on by compression of the nerves in your cranium. Mine was likely brought on by the swelling I had from being pregnant, my poor posture or an existing neck injury. We will likely never know. But for 20 weeks I struggled to sleep, because I couldn’t lie down. I had a heat pack permanently strapped to my face. The pain was incredible. I had an MRI at 35 weeks after my OB referred me to neurology to rule out anything more serious. Due to the quality of my life at this point, I was booked in for an induction for 39 weeks.
Just two days before my induction date, I was sitting at my dining table when I felt wetness in my underwear. I knew what I could be, and with advice from my midwife friend, I popped a pad in to confirm. Yep, that was my waters slowly leaking from me. I sat and waited for things to eventuate. Thinking it was imminent. But after a few hours of nothing, I decided to go to bed to try and get some rest before things did eventuate. At about 11:48pm I felt a pain, and I knew instantly that this was a contraction. They were really mild, but consistent at first. So, I went out to my husband, who was still watching TV on the lounge, and let him know that things were starting. He went straight into “it’s happening” mode. He showered, packed the car, tidied up so we came home to a clean house, fed the dog, filled a few water bowls, etc.
I proceeded to bounce on my exercise ball and time my contractions. As they started to get worse, I moved to the shower to get myself comfortable and ready to leave. Around 1am, I called the hospital to double check when I should bring myself in. But less than an hour later, I needed to get there. The pain was excruciating. I felt it all in my back. I couldn’t sit, I was arching my back over the side of the passenger-side chair on my way to the hospital with each contraction. When we arrived, I had to keep stopping and breathe through the back labour.
When I got to my room, I remember just stripping off. A little like Bruce Almighty in that scene. I was in that headspace we go into. Where all modesty is gone. I was ready. The contractions got so bad, that I demanded (yes, impolitely too, might I add) an epidural. It’s funny, because I had to look up the name of the doctors and midwives that delivered Zack, but I remember the name of my anaesthesiologist still to this day.
When he arrived, he prepped my back for the epidural and told me not to touch the area. But as soon as a contraction came on, I couldn’t help by grip my back. The back labour was intense!! So, it took him a while to get it done again. I remember him saying “ah, now I have to start again”. And Ilaughed at him and remember thinking, you think you’re mad? Once the epidural was in, I was able to relax.
At 7am there was a staff turnover, and with that came a vaginal check to see the progress I had made. I was 10cm. Funnily enough, leading up to the day my husband had been clear that he wanted to stay at my head for the birth. And when they were checking me, he had gone to the toilet and as he walked out, his first sight was my legs open and our son’s head crowning. That gave him the confidence to get right into the action. When they said we were about ready to push, I remember we turned to each other and high-fived. We were about to meet our son. We were smashing this labour game. Silly us.
After a long time pushing, we made no progression. Baby’s heart rate kept plummeting. I had a fever and had to be put on antibiotics and fluids. I had gotten an infection. I’m not sure how that happens, but the midwives assured me it wasn’t uncommon, and I was treated correctly and was fine. This was around the time when the midwives noticed bub was posterior. So, we then had about four other people come into the room. Two of which were doctors who came to me to tell me that we were being moved to theatre. I’d be prepped for a caesarean, but first they were going to do an ECV and attempt a forcep delivery. I was so against forceps, having heard some horror stories, but at this point I was ready to do anything to get him out safely.
So, off we went. They parked me outside the theatre andtook Brad aside to prepare him. A man came and gave me a spinal block into my epidural site. And I was taken inside. There were twelve people in the room. I was a little anxious. But thankfully, the midwives filled in the doctors on my “wish list/birth plan” where I requested to be told what was happening as we went if I was taken to theatre. Something about lying on the table with people moving around me without acknowledging me was terrifying. And they were so great. They all spoke me through every step. Including telling me where Brad was. The anaesthetist also asked if I’d like music, I was happy for him to play his 80’s playlist.
I was completely numb from the neck down. They placed these sleeves on my arms and legs, they reminded me of the Michelin man. They were rhythmically pumping full of air, then deflating (pumping the blood around my body). This, paired with the blood pressure arm bands on each of my arms, were my focus. The rhythm often linked well with the music I was listening to. I disassociated by this point. I was exhausted.
I felt movement. But no pain. They successfully moved Zack around the right way. Then told me I needed to now help them to get him out. I needed to push. How? I couldn’t feel a thing. But I tried. I remember the doctor saying to me “well done Alannah, one more push and you’ll meet your son”. This is where I lost all composure and began to cry. I got a quick glimpse of him and touched him briefly before he was taken away and the midwives dealt with him. My husband followed them, like we planned, and Zack was checked over and deemed fine. My husband cut the cord. Bub was wrapped up and given to Brad. He sat back at my head and introduced me to our son. His face was quite confronting at first. He looked so beaten up.
I laid there for 45 minutes getting stitched up. I hadn’t even held my son yet. I couldn’t. I had no feeling in my arms yet. After I was dealt with, I was wheeled out to recovery. This is where I finally got to meet my son. It didn’t feel real. He was mine. I genuinely couldn’t believe it. I tried to feed him. It felt so bizarre to me.
When we were finally back at postnatal, I was able to calm down and soak up moments with my son. I absolutely loved him. The pain was gone. I no longer felt it, it was as though it never existed. Thank goodness that was over.
I was really unwell post-delivery. I felt extreme nausea and exhaustion. They gave me oxygen, heated blankets and started me back on more antibiotics and fluids. A mixture of the infection, and blood loss had me feeling so unwell. I have photos of myself at this time and I was as white as a sheet. I had lost two litres of blood. So, on day three I was finally given an iron transfusion. Side note: this did not do anything! I was prone to anaemia and should have been given bloods. It took six months for my body to replenish and to finally feel well. During this time, I felt depressed and anxious, purely because my levels were so low. I walked out of the hospital holding Zack feeling faint and shakey. Thinking this was normal post birth. It is not.
Zack’s face was full of marks from his birth, and one actual cut on his cheek where the skin was taken off. This made feeding quite tough, because his face couldn’t touch my skin without peeling off any scab that would appear or making him bleed. It was awful. The doctor who delivered him even came up to see us on day two to apologise directly to Zack with tears in her eyes. We assured her it was fine,and she did good getting him here safe. He also had low blood sugar, so he had three-hourly blood sugar checks and was given formula to try and correct it. This complicated our feeding journey too. He had felt what it was like to be full. And my milk hadn’t come in. So, on that infamous night two, I had a panic attack due to how inconsolable he was. Feeling unwell and exhausted too probably didn’t help. But he eventually was deemed fine, and by day five my milk came in with a vengeance.
I don’t look back on this delivery with any negativity at all. It was such a surreal experience and I actually look back and think fondly of all the ways in which Zack came to be with us. However, I do look back and feel so sad for my recovery period. I had torn in every which way and could barely sit, my blood loss made me feel unlike myself, and then the midwives told me Zack had lost 10% of his body weight and we were told to urgently buy a $450 breast pump and rectify it in 24 hours, or we were back to hospital. Stress that a new mum doesn’t need. Hindsight - all the fluid that was given to us meant Zack was swollen and I believe his weight reading was inaccurate and this wasn’t taken into account when weighing him in the days after. I also believe continuity of care should be the norm. A lot of what happened to me postpartum could’ve been helped with a team of midwives who knew me and could help me ensure I walked out of that hospital well and ready. I got to sit with a midwife whilst pregnant with my second to go through this birth and all that happened and how best to avoid it in future. It was incredibly healing.
What do you wish you knew before birth?
Just how hard it all is. I think prior to having my first son, I thought I knew it all. I had all these idealisms in my head about how I would parent and what I should expect as a first time mum. But, It was a shock to the system. I found the transition from 0-1 really tough at first because I expected so much of myself. So, I wish I could go back and just remind myself that I don't know what I am in for, and that's ok. And, to take it all as it comes and allow myself some grace and some room to learn and adjust without being so hard on myself or over-worried.
If you could, would you do anything differently?
I'd love to say "nothing". But, the truth is, I wish I had have sought help sooner, or stayed on my medication for all three boys if it meant I would feel as good as I did this time around. I look back on myself postpartum with Beau and I cry, because my heart breaks for myself because of how bad my mental health got. I am just thankful my kids were oblivious to what I was going through.
What did your partner do that really helped during labour/birth?
Honestly, I am a hands-off type of labourer/birther. I didn't want to be touched. My husband's job was music, take photos if he could (or hand the phone to a nurse who could), and be there for the baby. As soon as the baby came out, particularly with number 1 and 3, he was by their side looking after them whilst I was being looked after from my PPHs and my sons needed extra attention.
What advice/honest truth would give a mama-to-be about birth?
Go in without any expectations. Just ride the wave. You cannot plan for everything, but you can be informed.