Now.

She has one contraction through the phone call and she is unable to talk throughout the duration. I take some details and tell her we’ll be waiting.

I prepare a room close to the desk and just as I have pulled the bedspread off the bed she bursts through the double doors of the birthing suite.

Her eyes are wild with labour, her blonde hair stuck to her face in a mix of sweat and weather.

Before I can introduce myself she runs, hell for leather, to the end of the corridor, to the room as far away from the desk as she can be.

I run after her.

Nothing in that room is ready and she is a multi.

As I reach the door, I can hear the shower. The constant roar of the water is only broken by the familiar gutteral sounds of a woman about to birth.

She is pushing!

I race into the cubicle (with no gloves and no instruments) just in time to see the baby fly from between her legs. There is nothing to cushion the infant and I am unable to dive into the shower fast enough for a successful catch.

I hit the emergency buzzer and other midwives come running. We clamp and cut the cord, call the paed to look the bathroom baby over.

All is ok with the bub but she will need observation after her meeting with the floor.

I walk back into the bathroom to find my lady, placenta, as yet, undelivered, swinging what is left of the umbilical cord, from between her legs, in slow, Broadway - esque circles.

“I’m so glad that is over”, she quips as I survey the area.

Birth is never dull, I muse, as I lead her to the bed.

As part of your student ‘year’ you had to catch fifty babies, including the placenta before you could become ‘certified’. No jokes now people. I already know that I am certifiable but that was how you were labelled at the end of your time. Actually, that title speaks volumes, really.

Now we are recognised as registered midwives.

Anyway, onto my tale…

It was the very end of my student year and I had only one birth left to attend.  I was working  at a hospital that encompassed a large area and therefore we also had clientelle from all walks of life.

This particular shift had me looking after a multi ( a lady who has had more than one baby). In fact, she was  known as a grand multi, which is just as it sounds. A lady who has had a large number of children. In this day and age, anything over four is considered ‘grand’.

I took the phone call before she presented to the birthing suite. I was still very new at all of this but she had spoken calmly and was able to breathe through her contractions…

“Hello, darlin’, it’s Mrs Blogs here. Just wantin’ to let yus all know I’m comin’ in. Is jus’ about that time”.

I took some details and said that I would be expecting her shortly. Even though I thought that she was not really sounding like she was in active labour, as a grand multi, the policy of the hospital labelled her high risk and she would need to be watched closely for any problems.

Besides that, she was a multiparous woman, so if she said she was in labour, who was I to argue with her? This would be her seventh baby.

It was early evening when she arrived. She was from a demographic lovingly known as the ‘Coastal Hillbillies’. They came from the mountain areas and had little to no antenatal care.

She presented relaxed, with her six other kids in tow.

They all had the most beautiful flaming red hair, as did she. Her front teeth were missing. Her eyes were a bright green. Her face lined with years of hard living but at the same time, those wrinkles included smile and laugh lines too.

She was so laid back and laughing with her children. Her partner was nowhere to be found, although I was absolutely certain that, like all the other children, he was the father to this little one too.

I introduced myself and the midwife who was mentoring me (remember, I’m still a  student).

“Hello, darlin’”, she smiled.

I directed her to her room. As we were wandering up, a contraction started. She didn’t stop to breathe through it. Instead she laughed and all her children embraced her mood with more laughter.

” Yup, yup, yup. It’s jus’ ’bout time”, she confirmed, chuckling, as the tightening came and went.

I looked towards the other midwife skeptically. There was no way this woman was ready to birth. She was too, well, happy and too… relaxed. Not a sign of impending birth about her.

The kids all came into the room and settled themselves down. Some had brought cards and others were in the corner just watching, keeping vigil.

I explained our admitting procedure, which she calmly listened to. Her contractions were palpable and coming every three to five minutes. I didn’t consider them strong and she laughed the whole time her uterus was balled up. Everything else was fine. She was insistent that the babe would be here within minutes.

I asked her if she would mind if I did an internal examination, to see where she was.

Of course, she was absolutely fine with that and I’m almost certain that she would have been comfortable with  anything I asked of her. She was just that relaxed.

As I found her cervix, I understood why she believed the baby would be here soon.

She was fully dilated!

Fully dilated and laughing!

Fully dilated, with six kids by her bedside, calmly waiting the arrival of their next brother or sister.

Was I amazed?

You bet your bottom dollar I was.

The membranes were still intact and I told her this. She mentioned that they had broken them with every other baby. I explained  (in my infinate wisdom) that we didn’t routinely break the waters.

She smiled at me (in all her infinate wisdom - oh I had SO much to learn)…

“Yup’, she replied, ” You can do that but they have had to break me water every other time”.

An hour crawled by and she was still conversing with her children, laughing and relaxed. Not once did she become impatient with me or demand I rupture the membranes. Her contractions did not become closer or stronger. In fact, things remained… eerily normal.

Finally, I asked her if I could check her internally again. She agreed. Her only request was that I have ‘one of them crochet hooks ready’.

Just as before, her cervix was fully dilated and just as before the membranes were intact and bulging. The baby’s head was still high up in the pelvis though, so I was reluctant to break the membranes.  A quick talk with the senior midwife and it was decided that we would go ahead.

Even though I was told by my lovely lady to ” ‘git (my) catchin’ mit on”, I thought I would have some time until the baby’s head crowned.

Young and stupid and naive that I was.

As I punctured the wall of the (very thick) membrane and started to withdraw my hand, my mountain lady gave one almighty push and the new and beautiful red haired little girl followed quickly behind!

There was no crowning.

Just a brilliant explosion of baby into the world!

I caught her, of course.

I cried because she was my last under the student umbrella and because it had been so powerful and amazing.

The woman was still smiling as I lay the cherub onto her belly, her children enveloping her in love and warmth. I was so very caught up in the moment that I didn’t realise that the mum had quietly expelled the placenta as well.

Usually, we gave the syntocinon injection into the thigh and applied what is known as controlled cord traction to ‘help’ the placenta to come away from the uterine wall. This was always deemed very important in grand multis as they are at an increased risk of haemorraging.

Of course, I didn’t have the chance to do any of this. 

I didn’t really care that I couldn’t include it as a catch.

That birth, was so much more than that.

Postscript; she was intact - no tears or stiches needed. As she had been with every one of her babies!

In a life before that, I was a student midwife and I recorded the first few births and my feelings about them. (Before that I was a cardiac nurse).

So tonight I thought I’d share it.

Just for something different.

Just so you can see another part of who I am.

Without mentioning the kids.

Sharon

My first witness! Such a nice couple, second baby. A textbook birth. What a beautiful amazing mother! So silent and tuned into her own body. Transition was there! BANG! In your face, so like everything that you read and hear about. The midwife was amazing. So good at grounding the mum. Turning her negative thoughts into positive ones. They worked so well together, the midwife and the mum. A boy! A beautiful boy! Birth is magical and frightening and amazing. I am privileged to be a part of it.

Kelly

Kelly laboured beautifully. It was not her fault that the baby came out flat. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t help with the resuscitation and I couldn’t help with Kelly. I stood there. The babe was taken away to the resus room where the doctors started working on him. So much like my own experiences. I can’t cope, I can’t breathe! I went into Kelly but I still couldn’t tell her what was happening. I smoothed it over and made everything look pretty. Just what I didn’t want to do. I wanted to be honest but the words jumped from my mouth. ‘It will be okay’. I was ashamed of myself for not being able to tell her what she needed to know. I ran away from the ward and from the hospital. What sort of a midwife will I be? Not a good one, at the rate I am going. I didn’t understand a lot of what was happening. The whole room was spinning. Out of control, so out of control. So many tears. I don’t think I’m going to make it.

Robyn

First time Mum. Labouring for a while. Bewildered by the pain. ‘I can’t do it, I can’t do it’! Yes, you can. Dad is there. He hasn’t slept for 48 hours and counting, so tired, yet so excited, can’t relax, can’t sleep, the baby’s almost here! Midwives buzzing around, where do I fit in? Can I help with anything? Move this, get that, at least I am busy too. Here he comes! Push, Robyn, Push! A boy, another gorgeous boy, he’s perfect. A chance to help with the breastfeeding while the midwife repairs a very meaty looking peri. I don’t think that girl will EVER walk straight again! OUCH! The peri repair looks hard and no matter how hard I look I can’t see an apex. Will I ever be able to do that? Midwifery is everything that I am not…confidence, strong heartedness. Will I make it out there? I’m not sure.

Helena

A beautiful positive lady. Inquisitive. Lets me do my first VE. Perfect! 8cm, anterior position. I can feel the fontanelle! A well flexed baby, waiting to be pushed out into the world. Pushing with the contractions, working hard. Scrub up ?!?!? ME???? I’d love to but I’m so scared. My throat is dry. Hands over hands. Wet, slippery baby, I can’t do it. Pulling my hands away. He’s out, so new, smelling earthy, almost coppery. Midwife is great, confident, has faith in me. ME! How can this be? Yes, I’d like to help with the placenta. Oh no! There’s the cord and membrane but where is the placenta??? Still there? Fundus is rising, oh no! Did I do that? Synto pushed up. Waves of pain passing through the mum. Will she have to go to theatre? Yes, no, yes, no… Here is the doctor, a manual removal! Lots of gas, mum, nice deep breaths.It’s out, no problems. What a brave mum. So, a simple straight forward birth becomes complicated and I still don’t know if I had anything to do with it.

Angela.

Early in the morning. Do you want to come in? 4th baby, 6cm dilated. Hurry, you’ll miss it! I arrive just in time! Mum is standing! I have never seen this positioning before. So amazing, natural. Pants the head out and the body follows. Midwife catches the slippery mass. Oh! A girl! My first girl! Zoe, Life. No tears, placenta comes away, intact. This is the way it should be. Beautiful family, glowing. Restored faith, this happy, encouraged, exhausted student drives home to her own sweet babies.

Leah

Another early morning delivery. It’s raining and I think the Mum has changed her mind about having a student midwife in the room. The Dad is looking lost, I think he feels as unwanted as me. Midwife is possessive. I’m a watcher again and a go- for too. That’s okay. Not much time to talk. Things are moving quickly. Internal reveals a lip! Use the gas! Don’t push! Don’t push!! Okay, PUSH. Concentrate your energy! Don’t waste it swearing and hating your husband.Boy oh boy! ANOTHER little guy! Precious, soft, little being. Welcome to the world!Mum is mad, not sutures, again! Midwife is insistent.

Allison

Midwife calls. ‘Come back in, Mum is moving along and is happy for you to be there’. When I arrive I know she doesn’t really want me there. Not a student. Midwife is wonderful, encouraging, teaching. I feel comfortable for the first time in ages. Change of shifts. Okay, I can do this. Mum is moving fast, third babies do that. A very tough peri, very tight. Trying hard to save it. Small pushes. Out comes the head and the midwives start shuffling. This is a bad sign. Lights and trolleys and oxygen is switched on. Out he comes! What is it with the boys? I know I am meant to be doing something. The baby is stunned, not moving and blue. Does he have a strong heart? The midwife asks, I don’t know, I can’t feel anything except my own head pumping. She grabs the suctioning and another midwife rubs the baby down, around my hulking body. How useless am I with the mask and bag in my hands? Think student, THINK! This is not your birth! Wake up (I do) Bag the baby! (I do) Oh my God! Come on little guy! You can do it! The midwife is rubbing his feet, his inner energy spot. Come on, breathe, breathe. He’s pinking up! Thank God! See? He’s crying and breathing, we did it. Tears. Relief. I feel like vomiting. My head is thumping. The midwife brings me back to earth. Let’s do the Apgar’s. Yes, let’s. A newborn check? Yes, I can do that. I think I was just in the way. Did I do anything to help? The midwives are quiet, silently debriefing, in their mind’s eye. Every delivery is a new challenge.

Tracey

Tracey calls me, Can I meet her there? Yes, I wouldn’t miss it! How exciting! Meeting a babe who I have watched from 20weeks gestation. Here she is, labouring quickly, silently. The perspiration on her upper lip, those guttural noises! She MUST be close! Are you sure it’s okay for me to do a V.E.? Yes! I think she is fully but the midwife says no, just 7cm. Tracey is pushing, maybe I was right, it was five minutes after, multi’s do that, you know… Try the birth stool, no, not right, back on all fours! What???? Get my gloves on?! Quick, I can see the head… crowning, oh! Here he comes!!! Where are the midwife’s hands? Nowhere near mine… listening to foetal hearts way up there, shouldn’t she have her hands over mine? Try to puff him out Tracey, no, you can’t, here he comes, his head is out! Next contraction, here comes his shoulder after a perfect restitution. He’s here! Beautiful Sean! Little ‘spout’ Nice to meet you after all this time. Tracey is amazing. That sigh of relief and then a cuddle as the placenta comes. So empowering. THIS is why I want to be a midwife.