Jo Sage

When I found out that I was pregnant for the second time, I felt quite sick with fear about the prospect of going through the experience of childbirth again.

I had really enjoyed my first pregnancy having been fit, active and healthy throughout and had looked forward to the birth, perhaps naively, without any fear. Why should I have been afraid of birth? I had read widely around the subject of childbirth and held the view that, unless there was a good medical reason for intervention, birth was best done at home in safe and familiar surroundings. I therefore planned a home birth with minimal intervention. I expected labour to be painful, but nothing had prepared me for the devastating effect that my first birth experience would have on so many aspects of my life.

There were so many things that went wrong with Dominic's birth, starting with a patronizing attitude towards me having my first baby at home from the community midwives in the area where I lived. I had to go to hospital (and I hate and fear hospitals with a vengeance) for each antenatal visit and encountered a different midwife on each occasion - I felt like I was constantly repeating myself and that in the end no-one knew a thing about me.

When I went into labour, I had to phone the midwives several times before anyone actually seemed to log the call. A midwife came out to me that I had never even met before. I believe that this was a major factor in what went wrong - I had no relationship with this woman, I didn't trust her and she knew nothing about me and what my hopes and expectations for the birth were. She was clearly not comfortable with the concept of home birth and basically tried to bring the hospital environment and protocols into my home with her, doing constant examinations to see how dilated my cervix was and then telephoning the hospital each time.

Because it was a first labour, it was, at times, fairly slow and at one point stopped entirely. My midwife clearly panicked and from this point on pressure was put on me to go into hospital and submit myself to their procedures and time-limits. After resisting this pressure for several hours, I finally gave in and, feeling completely terrified, and that I had lost control of the situation, allowed myself to be transferred into hospital.

It was all down hill from this point on. I was given a drug to speed up my contractions, which instantly became unbearably painful (I had coped up until this point without any form of pain relief at home for nearly 24 hours). I was forced to stay lying on a bed because I had a fetal heart monitor attached to me. Of course the baby's heart rate changed because of the drug and he began to suffer distress. It then became obvious that I would have to have to a caesarean section. I was distraught and in tears - everything was being taken out of my hands, I had lost control and my body had failed me. I was very upset and remember insisting that the obstetrician explain to me exactly why the caesarean was necessary. At this stage I remember hearing medical staff talking about me just outside of the door as if I were a silly and rather naughty child because I was so upset about all the interventions. Everything I had not wanted to happen was happening to me. I was on a roller-coaster ride of unwanted interventions.

There was me who wanted a natural birth in my own home without any interference, submitting to a caesarean section in a room packed with strangers - I felt stupid, violated and a complete failure. Birth was to be a female rite of passage for me and this had all been taken away - my spirit had been crushed and I was depressed and angry.

Even after the surgery, to add insult to injury, the nursing was so poor that I developed a bedsore (because I was numb from the epidural for several hours and no-one came to check on me). The hospital was dirty and depressing - I just wanted to be at home.

This very negative experience stayed with me - not just for a while but right up until the birth of my second child. It can honestly say that it affected many areas in my life, including how I felt about my body and my self-esteem and also my relationship with my partner Dave - he was clearly very badly affected too after Dominic's birth and had felt useless and guilty that he was unable to do anything more to help. He was well aware of how badly it had affected me.

I again felt physically fit and healthy during my second pregnancy, but my confidence had been so destroyed that at several points just prior to Miranda's birth I thought to myself 'I can't do this'. I was completely terrified of losing that control, of my body letting me down and feeling a complete failure once again.

When I found out, a few days before my due date that the baby was breech I panicked even further. As I contemplated all the other interventions I might be faced with, I thought at one point that I might as well just accept having another caesarean - luckily I took a homoeopathic remedy and the baby moved into a head-down position overnight.

In the end, Miranda was born at home, without drugs or any other interventions (except a bit of gas and air and lots of homoeopathic remedies). The whole process was quite straight-forward and took about 10 hours from start to finish. I felt so elated and proud of myself and couldn't believe that it had all been so simple after the horrors of Dominic's birth. Dave clearly felt a lot better afterwards - like he was really able to do things to support me.

Without Kay's support, there is no way that I would have been able to have the natural birth experience I had so wanted. For a start they would have wanted me in hospital, and then there would have been time limits about how long I could be in labour after a caesarean. Most importantly I couldn't have guaranteed that I would have known the midwife who attended me in labour.

I felt that I had had the chance to build up an excellent relationship with Kay during the course of my pregnancy - we had discussed at length what had happened at Dominic's birth, what I really wanted for this birth, and what might realistically go wrong. I knew that if I did end up in hospital this time it would have been for a really good medical reason and I had every confidence in Kay's ability as a midwife. What I really like about her was that she didn't 'medicalise' the experience, or treat pregnancy and birth as an illness. Kay never talked about delivering babies; instead she talked about 'catching' them! My pregnancy had been clouded by the sudden and unexpected illness and death of my mother and Kay did a lot to support me during this difficult time - she was a real friend to the whole family.

During Miranda's the birth, Kay mainly sat in the corner of the room and it was as if she was hardly there at times, not fussing about, examining me, interfering with me - she barely touched me during the whole process. When I did need her she was calm and relaxed, saying just the right thing, filling me with confidence in my own ability to give birth. In fact it was more what she didn't do than what she did do and because of this I felt that I had given birth in my own terms in my own way.

The experience could not have been more different than my first birth. From a high-tech, wholely interfered with and essentially medical experience in room full of strangers, I had now had a wholesome, natural, empowering birth - painful yes, but what a difference to the way I felt about myself afterwards! After Dominic's birth I had felt like a victim, I looked awful and took ages to heal. After Miranda's birth, I was buzzing with confidence and self-esteem, sipping champagne in my own bath with my family around me. Every single visitor commented on how good I looked - I felt wonderful!

I wouldn't hesitate to recommend the Kent Midwifery practice to anyone who wants real choice and control over their experience of birth. Without Kay's help, support and faith in me, I would never have been able to turn the negative and soul-destroying effects of my first birth into the empowering and life-changing experience I had with my second child.