Here is Felix’s birth story, which we can laugh about now, but was certainly not funny at the time. It was a bit fast and furious… He was fast. I was furious.

0600
Here we go again. We’re about to start this engine and once it starts, I know it doesn’t stop until there’s a baby. I’m mostly slightly terrified because I know what’s going to happen. We drive to the hospital to begin induction. I’m 38w3d, the same gestation as when I had Judah. Overnight I’ve developed a horrific cold. I was up at 2am steaming my face to try and clear my head. I can’t breathe at all through my nose. It’s not ideal.

0800
We talk to our midwife who will be with us all day. She seems lovely and matter-of-fact. I like her.

Instead of an IV, this time I get induced with a hormone gel they apply to places no one should be aware of.

Nothing happens for a while… Zac and I listen to music, joke and try to calm ourselves down, but we know… this is the first day in a long parade of exertion. It’s also the beginning of huge joy and awe. It’s momentous. Calm before the storm.

1000
Contractions start out of nowhere. They start soft, like period cramps, but by the time I’ve had 3 or 4 they mean business.

So it begins.

Gladly, the contractions aren’t as blindingly painful this time. The intense muscular pressure is there, but not the feeling like someone is sharpening a knife down my abdomen.

I ask for the music to be turned off. I’m in the zone. I try sitting… lying on my back… lying on my side… standing… leaning on Zac… The only position I find comfortable is on my hands and knees, leaning on the raised head of the bed. I stay in that position until it’s all over. #GLAMOUR

1100
We talk about the plan for the day. They’ll break my waters at 12pm and then if nothing happens by 2pm, they’ll start me on a drip. I definitely want an epidural if I get IV hormones. Hell, I really wouldn’t mind one now. Midwife somehow convinces me to “wait and see how I go”. I tell her that I don’t think all the first-time birthers on the labour ward would appreciate a Stage-5 Shouter scaring them, so let’s really think about that epidural.

More contractions. Intensity etc.

1200
It’s midday, the midwife comes back in with my OBGYN. In his classic way, he understates, “things will probably move along pretty quickly after this”. He goes out again.

The midwife checks me out and says something I’ll never forget… “Clare, I’m so sorry, I’m going to have to manually re-position your cervix, so I can break your waters”

Whelp, Ok.

It honestly didn’t hurt (just so uncomfortable), but I cried like a 2 year old. It’s just so foreign to have someone’s hand moving your internal organs around while they are constricting themselves. You know? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She finally stops ‘repositioning my cervix’ and has a couple of goes of breaking the waters. Baby’s heart rate elevates, his head is right there pushing against her. I’m not really coping very well emotionally at this point (crying etc) so she says she’ll give it a break and try again later if it hasn’t worked.

Mercifully, I feel water trickle out. Not a lot, but it’s definitely worked.

A couple more contractions happen. I start using the gas and air. I guess it takes the edge off? It certainly makes me slow my breathing down. I replay my OBGYN’s words in my head… It’ll move quickly from here. I ask to go to the toilet before it all gets crazy.

1230
Zac and the midwife help me get up and walk to the ensuite. I ask about an epidural as we cross the room. The midwife asks if I’m happy to see how I go. I say that I’m pretty sure I want one.
Something about the sitting position makes everything suddenly very intense. That familiar blacking out/eyes rolling pain hits me like a truck and I look at Zac… “I can’t do this, does the gas mouthpiece stretch this far?”

Oh mannnn, these contractions are now on top of each other. I can only get one word out between them before the next one starts.

“Pain” I say.

“Oh, is it..?”

Internal Voice: YES DUMMIES. I CAN ONLY GET ONE WORD OUT IT’S *THAT* PAINFUL, WHAT PART OF THIS IS UNCLEAR?

Then the midwife delivers another pearler… “Clare, I want you to do 3 more contractions while you’re sitting. This position is working well for you.”

Did I just catch her trying to hide a smile?

I have one word to communicate with the non-labouring humans. I pick well: “EPIDURAL”

Contraction. Zac tries to wipe my nose (remember, I’ve got a crazy cold) I glare at him. I’m literally sitting on a toilet, eyes going black with pain, nose running, body screaming. I need an epidural, not a ********* tissue!

“EPIDURAL!!!”

I finish three contractions, I think, they are rolling into one by this point. One long, gut-spinning contraction.

Right about now I feel something shifting in my brain. You know your primal ‘gut’ voice that can be a little illogical, it kinda hangs in the background and is hard to catch? It’s like that Primal Brain was thrust onto the mainstage of my brain. The logical, thoughtful part was pushed backstage.

I get back on the bed. Gas and Air STAT. Contraction. I breathe the heck out of that thing. Contraction. I swear this is a placebo designed to make you breeeatttheeee instead of hyperventilating, it’s like..

The mouthpiece falls out onto the floor. 

Two more contractions without any relief. The midwife calls in another midwife to get another mouthpiece. The back-of-my-brain takes in information from the room… the second midwife saying, “Things moving along then?” and my midwife saying, “Ha, yeah, she asked for an epidural.” Second midwife CHUCKLES.

I look at Zac in despair. 30 minutes ago, I was just 3cm dilated. “Epidural?” I ask him with tears in my eyes. “It’s coming babe.”

Primal Brain kicks in and I kid you not, I remember EVERY WORD that I thought at this moment. Here’s an insight into a labouring woman’s brain:

“He’s bullsh***ing you. Epidural isn’t coming. You’re only 3cm, maybe 4cm, they’re not getting you the epidural. So you know what you should do? You should just push the baby out before you’re fully dilated. Just force him out. You’ll probably tear everything internally, but then they’ll have to rush you to surgery and BOOM, you’ll get your epidural.”

I was SO CHUFFED with my plan (I wish I was joking) but I thought that this was the best, most amazing plan that had ever been thought of. Internal damage = surgery = pain relief! Oh primal brain, logic isn’t your strength ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1300
Primal Brain: Mwahaha, just start pushing. Lol. Your epidural will happen before you know it! Yes. This is a good plan. And they won’t know what you’re doing until it’s too late!

Logical Brain says out loud: “Push”

The midwife stops what she’s doing, “Did you just say push?”

Primal Brain: hahaha, catch up lady. Think you can’t get me an epidural? Think again!

With every contraction I suck that gas and I just push and push, thinking I’m not ready, that my body is going to be severely damaged.

I feel everything, it’s burning and fire and stinging and I’m sure I’m tearing muscles with every move I make, but I am super committed about getting into surgery to get that pain relief.

I have now become the woman I warned the midwife about. I’m roaring through each contraction/push and it’s loud. I’m remotely aware that this may seem a teeny bit dramatic.

Primal Brain: you told her this would happen. This is their fault. If they’d got you an epidural you wouldn’t be scaring all the other labouring women…

Pushing. Pushing.

1325
Felix is here.

Zac is crying.

What just happened? He’s out?

Midwife. Hold your baby!

Primal Brain: I’m on all fours and about to collapse. I can’t spare a limb to hold a slippery baby because I’ll fall over. What planet are you on?

Zac: Oh babe, he’s beautiful! Well done!

Midwife: Amazing! No tearing, no stitches required, well done!

Primal Brain: What now? Where’s my ****ing epidural! What the hell!

Zac: Turn around babe and hold him!

I get help turning around so I’m lying down and they hand me Felix. Gosh he looks to different to Judah. His head is so round! He’s chubby. Aw. His umbilical cord is MASSIVE, no wonder this pregnancy was rough, he took all my nutrients!

But then I look up. And Primal Brain is still hanging about and not impressed about the lack of epidural. I look at each person in the room. I am beyond angry. Zac takes one look at my face and backs it up. Clearly I’m not in the mood to celebrate the new arrival.

In his words, “You were dark babe, real dark.”

I think I remember looking at everyone and thinking “you’re gonna die you didn’t get me an epidural. You’re gonna die for laughing. You’re gonna die for making me sit”

After about 20 minutes, the adrenalin leaves my body and Primal Brain goes back in her box and Normal Brain comes back. Felix is absolutely beautiful and doing everything he needs to do, and I’m starting to see that I’ve just done something I never really wanted to do, but I did it and I’m more capable than I thought.

I get up. It’s time for a shower. I’m surprised at how mobile I am. The midwife assures me it’s because I didn’t get an epidural. I shoot her a withering look… DON’T I KNOW IT, FELICITY, DON’T I KNOW IT.

I’m butt naked in a bathroom with a student nurse from Notre Dame. I sit on the stool and she hoses me down.

“Is that what you thought you’d be doing with your time?” I ask her.

She laughs and keeps hosing me down, “It’s not so bad.”

And I feel the same way. It’s not what I expected, but it’s not so bad and I have a beautiful little guy to get to know.

Felix Henry Gageler

His name means “Happy” and “Leader of the House”

Born 16/5/16 in 3.5 hours, weighing 3.5kg