Archive for the 'Birth Notice' Category

Birth Notice – Amara Rose Murti

Amara Rose Murti, born 24th July. Lovely positive home birth experience with the use of a birth pool. Big thank you to Midwives Kendra, Amanda, Misty, Nelly Hooper, Julie and Sharon Robinson. Fantasitc support from Dad.


Birth Notice

Is it a boy? Is it a girl? It’s a Kiwi!

After 40 weeks and 9 days plus six and a half hours labour our little Kiwi Thomas arrived at home. We are gratefull for the wonderful birth experience we had and want to thank our midwives Linda and Cheryl, student midwife Lizzie and supporter Sally and Sara (great Lasagne!). The pregnancy and early labour were much easier to handle thanks to the good yoga training with Nat from Zingsessions, the relaxing massage (Dan from Jade Phonix), good advice from Aileen (Holistic Birth Company) and in the second stage of labour the birthing pool from the homebirth association was the best thing ever! The recovery went very well thanks to the previous yoga, the homoepathic remedies from Tracy Bonnington and wonderful care from Linda Shannon (and my family!).

Inez and Martin Schmidt-Rademacher

If you have recently had or planned a home birth in the manawatu and would like to announce your baby’s birth via this forum please email the details to mhbanewsletter at hotmail dot com.

Birth Announcement

Mianh, Tyler & Noemi joyfully announce the birth of our sweet and peaceful Seder Pádraig Solomon. Born in our family bed on Monday July 13th, 2009 at 10:35pm weighing 3000g. Much love and thanks to our midwife Sue Crabtree, and to Ellen Salmons – thanks for the birth photography,  finishing the knitting at the very last minute & being a great back-up!

Birth Notice – Baby BatachEl

Madeline, Simon, Hila, Mikah and Ruby are pleased to announce the arrival of a lovely new baby boy (Pippin Ashar Mere BatachEl) into their home.  Born 1.37pm Friday 7th November 2008 at home with the fantastic assistance of Sue Crabtree and Bridgette.

If you have recently had or planned a home birth in the manawatu and would like to announce your baby’s birth via this forum please email the details to mhbanewsletter at hotmail dot com.

Birth Notice – Eilidh Grace

Karen Knox and Jason Harbott welcome our gorgeous daughter, Eilidh Grace, born on May 18th 2008 at home.

Birth weight 3.1 kgs. Big sister Neeve and big brother Ronan very proud of Eilidh.

Thanks to our midwives Annie Kinloch and Lynley Allot for their care and assistance.

Birth Notice and Story – Laelle Emili Galbraith

Jarrod and Helen Galbraith are thrilled to add a precious daughter to their family. Laelle Emili was born at home on 14th August 2007 at 10.13pm, weighing 7lb 6oz, and welcomed warmly by big brothers Byron, Declan and Alaric, and especially by big sister Kerilee. Huge thanks to Sue Crabtree for her wisdom and encouragement, and to Ellen for being a lovely back-up.

I’ve been a bit dubious about having a homebirth, as it’s a pretty painful event and having a homebirth takes away my pain relief options. My midwife explained to me when I was first pregnant that homebirth can be really empowering, and I felt I lost my power during my second birth, where my bubs was posterior and really stuck. That birth left me afraid of the labour pain and pretty traumatised, so I’d had an epidural with my last two births.

I decided to go with the homebirth for several reasons:

I really hate hospitals and feel tense around doctors and nurses, as I had a lot of surgery as a child.

I feel I don’t have much control at hospital, and have to birth in a certain way, sticking with ‘hospital protocol’.

I wanted to have privacy, with no one turning up in the room unexpectedly, and without feeling like I’d lost my dignity.

Childhood sexual abuse left me spending most of my life feeling like a victim, and I wanted to take control of my own birth experience, and do it on my terms.

My midwife (Sue) has a theory that natural birth without pain relief seems to result in less postnatal depression, and with progressively worse PND with each pregnancy, I am willing to try anything to ease that possibility.

During my pregnancy I slowly gained confidence in my ability to birth well (thanks to lots of positive reinforcement from Sue) and started to think about all the things I wanted to do during birth – dim lights and plenty of time alone were top on my list, and I occasionally entertained thoughts of birthing totally alone – not that I wanted my man to miss it! I knew I could do it, and I could handle the pain.

My concerns with having a homebirth were:

Having the kids around may be a distraction, as I was not comfortable with them seeing me in labour. I arranged for my Dad to hang out in the lounge with them with DVDs and popcorn while I set up my bedroom at the other end of the house as my birth room.

Had concerns about a difficult birth and not being able to access pain relief. Sue checked Squishy’s (her womb name) position regularly, and when she turned posterior late in pregnancy, gave me lots of tips to encourage her to turn. She also pointed out that although I’d had a difficult posterior birth, my body had managed to birth naturally, so I was capable of doing that again if necessary. Another point was that most complications during birth have plenty of warning, so transfer to hospital was still an option if things got too much, or labour took too long.

So it was that I found myself approaching my due date, with a birth pool set up in my bedroom, tentatively anticipating my fifth child. I’d had our first three children born at 37 weeks, so we were ready to go by then, but I was happy to enjoy my final days of pregnancy for as long as I could with only a 2 year old during school hours. Each day was started with a pang of disappointment that labour hadn’t started overnight, and each evening the house was immaculately tidy ‘just in case’ tonight was it. Daytime was reserved for lazy isolation, with the phone very neglected and the car used as little as possible. I was loving those quiet days doing as little as possible, soaking up the sunshine on the floor of the lounge, and snoozing with a book in the early afternoon before the after school noise and bustle. The older kids had slowly been integrated into the jobs needing doing around the house, and were responsible for dishes 6 days a week, keeping their rooms tidy, and helping out with a basic tidy and vacuum each evening. I’d also put about 3 weeks’ of hot meals in the freezer, got the expected necessaries for post-birth (including haemorrhoid cream and paraffin gauze!) and made a list of jobs to do in early labour.

So there we were, all ready to go, feeling a little apprehensive but organised. Two days before due date I saw my midwife, and despite enjoying my lazy days, I was very emotionally fragile. I seemed to be in tears over the little things (and big things – the older kids had done impromptu gardening in our soggy front yard that morning before school, and had a big clean up job ahead of them when they got home!). As she left it occurred to me that my fragility could be an early warning sign, so decided to be kind to myself for a few days – long hot baths and plenty of sleep. Next day (yes, the yard was cleaned up and the mud off the path and the carpet, which helped me feel better!) I had a sleep while my toddler played quietly in his room, and then woke to find him asleep, giving me time for a long, hot shower and a laze in the sun before school pick-up. While lazing in the sun I had the general period-like ache that I’d had on and off for weeks, yet this time it included an ache in my cervix as well. It was all very random, nothing definite, just enough for me to take notice. Picking the kids up from school I found our oldest had broken his only wearable shoes, so made a quick Warehouse stop, feeling increasingly restless to be home. Tea was ready to go, so I took it easy, chatted with the kids about their day and checked e-mails.

By 5pm the aches were coming in gentle waves, enough for me to text the midwife to say I suspected early labour. ‘O.K,’ I thought, ‘if this is labour, I’ll start my labour list of things to do, and even if it’s not, I’ll be busy, and organised before the evening’. So over the next few hours a note was written for Dad about popcorn, duvets and movies, lunches were made for the next day, fire on, a quick clean around the bathroom, Squishy’s first clothes out with a hottie bottle, towels and plastics Sue had previously dropped off out on the bed, washing machine half full with napisan ready for soaking, a splash of deodorant on, post-birth clothes out on my dressing table (including a pad in the knickers!) and ice cream container rinsed, for placenta.

Hubby was home after 5pm, and I cautiously told him I thought early labour was kicking in, as by now the achy pain had increased into an irregular pattern.

Around 6pm we told the kids we thought we might be having the baby tonight, which caused a stir of excitement. I phoned Dad, and continued to wander around doing random jobs, putting on my bedside light and a few candles, so I could retreat to my room every now and then to be alone.

Hubby started filling the birth pool as we expected a reasonably quick birth, and around 7pm I started writing down when contractions were coming, as I was slowly focussing inwards, unable to remember what time the last one was. They were still fairly random; 9 minutes, 3 minutes, 7 minutes… I was rocking on a rocking stool, as my biggest concern was keeping the baby anterior – a few weeks prior she had been posterior, and I wanted to encourage her to stay that way as she descended into my pelvis. My poor man kept asking if I had phoned Sue yet, but I was putting it off, not wanting anyone watching me. I told him I’d call her when contractions were regular and around 5 minutes apart, and I was comfortable to wait. He was dubious, but willing to trust that I knew where I was at in the labour.

Around 8pm I finally called her, knowing she lived half an hour or so away, and told her to take her time, but that we were definitely in the swing of things. Hubby and I put our toddler to bed together, as normal, although a little late, hoping he would sleep well, considering he was in the room next to ours.

I started kneeling by my bed, breathing through each contraction with my eyes closed, focussing inwards, telling myself that the more pain, the better my cervix was opening. It was so nice to just be able to switch off; leaving Hubby responsible for the pool filling and temperature, knowing the kids were happy with Granddad and their movie.

I listened to Hubby go into the lounge, and my 9 year old ask, “Has Mum had the baby yet?” I had to smile when Hubby replied, “Not yet, it’s not quite cooked.” (We had told the kids occasionally that the baby would come out when it was ‘cooked’, rather than on any specific day, and had not told them any due dates.)

Sue turned up around 8.30pm, quietly kneeling beside me to watch me through a contraction, and gently telling me how great I was doing. It was such a lovely nurturing feeling I relaxed a whole lot more, knowing I could completely focus inwards now, and leave all the observations and decisions to her. Squishy was really active during all this, which was uncomfortable, yet nice to know she was happy. Hubby was kept busy boiling pots of water, as the pool was a little too cold, which gave me the space I needed.

9.45pm Sue offered to check how dilated I was, as the contractions were getting more intense, taking a lot more focus to get through. I was slightly nauseous through each contraction now, but still coping O.K. with the pain level. I knew I had previously felt nauseous late in my labours, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I hesitated, not wanting to be disappointed if I wasn’t too far along, figuring the pain wasn’t bad enough yet. I decided it would be good to know where I was at, so went to the toilet and eased onto the bed, taking my time. 8cm was the verdict, which was awesome, as I had thought the pain would be more intense by now.

I tentatively climbed into the pool, not knowing what relief to expect from the water, but loving the easing of weight on my pelvis. I went back to kneeling, leaning forward on the side, and asked Hubby to sit with me now, so I could lean my face on his arms while he rested his hands on my back. The skin contact with strong arms was really comforting. Our back-up midwife appeared then, a gentle unobtrusive woman I hadn’t had the chance to meet before, who sat on the bed writing notes, leaving Sue to tend to us. The next two contractions were bliss – back to the gentle waves of bad period pain.

It was that next one that told me we were well on the way to transition, which I still didn’t want to believe was here already. I was breathing deeply enough to find I was hyperventilating, getting tingly in my hands and feet and feeling my body starting to involuntarily push. The next one was the same, and I needed my mans arms to lean on. I wanted to get more comfortable after that, as my hands and feet were too tingly to lean on, so I turned over, sitting, yet floating slightly, so my tailbone was off the bottom. The next contraction built, and with it I felt the pop of my waters and a huge, involuntary push, producing a little dark head. Wow. I was stunned to realise my baby was in sight, although incredibly sore as she wriggled her shoulders into position, ready for the next contraction. I found out later that Hubby struggled through this stage, as it was so hard to comprehend the logic of letting our baby stay underwater, when instinct told him that surely she would drown. He knew the facts, but in that moment, he had to draw on the calmness of Sue. The next contraction, three minutes later, was so intense, but only moments long, producing the rest of our baby, which Sue scooped up and pressed to my chest. My first thought was, “Is it a girl?” so I glanced between her legs and found yes, it was – yay! I asked Hubby to get our older daughter, who, with three brothers already, desperately wanted a sister. In she came, briefly, to meet her sister, then have the privilege of telling her brothers. A few crampy pushes later and the placenta was out, Hubby cut the cord, and took her to the lounge to meet the family and get dressed by the fire. Sue suggested I get out of the pool to be checked over, but as I rose I found the weight on my abdomen really uncomfortable, so sunk back down for a few minutes, joking that I could stay there for the next week. Eventually got out, easing onto the bed for the undignified ‘down there’ check, to be told I had no tear, and very minimal grazing, although a few ‘grandfather-sized’ haemorrhoids. I felt I’d got off really lightly, and think the time in the water had softened things up enough to stretch easily. Off for a quick pee (which barely stung – yay!) and into bed, to sit and feed my little bundle and chat with the kids. Still in awe with how well the birth had gone, and thrilled that I had coped so well. Hubby and granddad then got the kids into bed, after a round of kisses and cuddles for our new addition, and I snuggled down into bed with her while Hubby and Co got the pool emptied. What a beautiful way to end the day, feeding my precious daughter while everyone else pottered around tidying and cleaning, and by midnight we were all settled in for the night.

So that’s the birth story of Laelle. Surprisingly different from the four hospital births I’d had previously, very intimate and private, and very much on my terms and my turf. I could not have asked for anything more.