Oliver’s Pregnancy and Birth Story – Frank Breech, Attempted Natural Birth and Emergency C Section

Early Pregnancy

In 2021, after Tony and I were married for a year, we decided that we were ready to grow our family, and started trying to get pregnant. Luckily for us, it happened pretty quickly. I had grand plans to do some elaborate pregnancy reveal for Tony to tell him we were going to have a baby, but the second I saw that second pink line, I called him on his work trip and blurted it out, “I’m pregnant!”

Our GP offered for me to do both the NIPT at 10 weeks and combined scan and blood test at 13 weeks. The NIPT is a blood test which is a screening test that checks for potential chromosome abnormalities and can tell you the gender of your baby. It came back all low risk for any issues, and we found out we were having a little boy!

Scans – No Nasal Bone and Low Weight

Then came the 13 week combined scan and blood test. This is exactly what it sounds like, they do a blood test and do an ultrasound, which, again, checks for markers of abnormalities in babies. Everything was looking good, until the sonographer couldn’t find baby boy’s nasal bone. We were told maybe it was just a little early and were  scheduled for a follow up scan the next week. Baby boy still didn’t have a nasal bone at the following scan, and then the doctor came to have a talk with us.

“No nasal bone is an indicator for down syndrome.” My stomach dropped, and I only managed to hold back tears for a matter of seconds. Shortly after that scan we were referred to Maternal Foetal Medicine (MFM), and had our morphology scan at 18 weeks. Let me tell you, the amount of online ultrasounds and nasal bone googling that happened in our house in those 5 weeks was unreal.

The morphology scan, once again, showed no nasal bone. It also showed that baby was sitting at the 9th percentile for estimated foetal weight (EFW), which was another concern. They had us return a couple weeks later to re-scan, and there was no change. We were given the option to complete an amniocentesis, which is a test that uses a long needle into your abdomen to extract a sample of amniotic fluid. Unlike the previous blood tests, which were screening test, this is a diagnostic test, so would give a definite yes or no to if something was wrong. The down side is that it carries a higher risk of miscarriage. After lots of contemplating, we decided to trust the results of the NIPT, which is 99% accurate at detecting down syndrome.

Due to baby’s low weight, we were asked to continue scanning at MFM every few weeks. I think we had close to 30 scans all up through my pregnancy, which is A LOT. The silver lining is that we got to watch our baby grow, almost week by week, which was special. We got to see him practice breathing, when he had hiccups, and we even got to see him flip us off. At every scan, he remained around the 9th percentile for EFW, his nasal bone never eventuated, and was also always in a frank breech position.

At 30 weeks, we had another scan, with the exact same results as all the others, except this time a doctor took us into a room with boxes of tissues and all sorts of religious paraphernalia on the walls afterwards. He explained the same thing to us, baby didn’t have a nasal bone and that’s an indicator for down syndrome. Once again we were offered an amnio, along with him telling us that if it came back positive for any issues, we could still decide to terminate. That hit hard. Tony and I decided to let go, or at least try to, of the fear and stress of everything that was concerning the doctors, and just trust that everything was really okay, since that was what our guts were telling us.

Nearing the end of my pregnancy, probably around the 34 week mark, Baby Oliver made it past the 10th percentile for EFW and we were discharged from MFM and went back into the care of our birthing hospital. At my next appointment, he was back down, sitting at the 7th percentile and they were concerned about the blood flow through the umbilical cord, so I was sent straight back to MFM. Another scan the following day showed him measuring at the 13th percentile, so I was once again discharged from MFM. This is a great example of how different equipment and operators can result in different size measurements in ultrasounds.

Breech Baby

A fortnight later, at 36 weeks, baby was still breech. The hospital told me that my options were to have a c-section, or attempt and External Cephalic Version (ECV), which is where the doctor manually turns the baby by pressing down on your tummy and trying to spin the baby. I asked lots of questions around vaginal breech birth, which is absolutely possible, however I was advised that none of the doctors at that hospital were trained in breech birth or had enough experience to comfortably support a breech birth. I was very clearly told that I would not be supported in a breech birth. I booked in for an ECV at 37 weeks and began all of the tricks in the book to turn him, including:

• Chiro
• Spinning Babies
• Ice Packs
• Flips in the Pool
• Moxibustion
• Acupuncture
• Acupressure

Upon arrival at the hospital for my ECV, the midwife had a feel of my tummy for baby’s position. She said he was head down and I was so excited! 10 seconds later, the ultrasound machine showed he was still breech. I was given some medication through a cannula to relax my uterus, and about 20 minutes later, a team of OBs entered the room. Apparently I was going to be used for a demonstration. The first OB had a go, she pressed her balled up fists so deep into my belly that they disappeared. It hurt like hell. I focused on my breathing, trying to stay as relaxed as possible as I’d learned in the Hypnobirthing course I’d done. After a few failed attempts, a second OB had a go and also failed to turn him. They were managing to move his head down, but just couldn’t seem to get his bum out of my pelvis.

One of the OBs then told me that they could book me in for another attempt the following week, which I immediately accepted. It hurt like a bitch, but if it was going to help me avoid a c-section, I was all in. Next she told me that I needed to book in for a c-section in case the next ECV didn’t work. My heart sank. I told her that I really didn’t want to have a c-section and brought up the possibility of breech birth, and was quickly shot down again and told that it wasn’t an option. I consented to book in a c-section appointment, but asked that it be as far out as they would allow, giving baby as much time as possible to turn on his own. Miraculously, I was booked in for 40+3, 3 days past my due date.

The following week I returned for my second ECV. I spent 30 minutes in the room before the appointment upside down on the bed, hoping that would help dislodge baby’s bum from my pelvis. This time only two doctors came. They each had a go, and by the end of it, I was dizzy and had broken out in a cold sweat. I was so determined to have this baby turn around that nothing was going to make me tell them to stop, I really wanted them to try their hardest, but they were still unsuccessful. That’s when I was told that I no longer had a choice, and that I had to have a c-section. I was heartbroken. The OB on duty told me that she wanted to pull my c-section appointment forward. I explained that I wanted as much time as possible to allow baby to turn on his own and she countered that she wanted to pull the c-section forward due to him being a small baby. This didn’t make sense to me, as I thought, if he’s small, why wouldn’t we let him cook until he’s ready to come instead of pulling him out early? I queried this and she didn’t have a real answer for me and just asked me to go downstairs for another growth scan to see where he was sitting. By some luck, he was measured at the 15th percentile, and my c-section booking remained for 3 days past my due date.

Changing Care Providers

I tried really hard to get on board with having a C-section, so that the birth of my first baby would still be a beautiful and exciting event, but I just couldn’t seem to accept it. I continued trying to turn baby with all of the tricks I mentioned above, and Tony and I began discussing possibly finding a different care team that would support a vaginal breach birth.

At 39 weeks pregnant I started my maternity leave, and the next day my dad was admitted to the ICU and in an induced coma following some surgical complications with a hip replacement. My priorities completely shifted away from my pregnancy and upcoming birth, and on to my dad. I visited him every day in the ICU, until he woke up, was stabilized, and moved out of the ICU.

By this point I was 40 weeks pregnant, officially at my due date. My scheduled c-section was 3 days away, and focus finally came back to the birth of my baby. Tony called all of the hospitals in our city and actually managed to find one that was supportive of vaginal breach births and would take me on as a patient so late in my pregnancy. I went back into my current hospital to get a quick position check done before switching hospitals. At that check I mentioned to the OB there that I was considering switching to a hospital that was supportive of vaginal breach birth. I was then told matter of factly that if I attempted a vaginal breach birth, that either me or my baby was going to die. I knew that this wasn’t true from the research that I had completed and the fact that when I spoke to the supportive hospital, the advice that I was given was that I was a good candidate. This solidified in my mind that changing care providers was the right move for me and I promptly had the new hospital take me on as a patient.

Labour and Birth

After changing hospitals to one that would support me with a vaginal breach birth, my mind started to wind down, And I felt a lot less stressed, but I still had a lot of limitations with the “high risk” birth ahead of me. Being a breach baby I was advised that the hospital would not want to induce me, so it was important that I went into labour naturally. I began doing some of the tricks to help bring on labour, including walks, curb walking, relaxing and last but not least, sex.

3 days past my due date I was having lots and lots of Braxton Hicks and about 5 minutes after I fell asleep that night, my water broke in bed. By some miracle I was up and out of bed before any of it made a mess in the sheets. I stepped out into the hallway, And called out to Tony, who was busy playing video games, that my water had just broken. He turned around so fast that I’m surprised he didn’t get whiplash and he was white as a ghost. It was time!

I had a quick shower to clean myself up, and then went back to bed to try and get some rest as I’d been advised to do in my hypnobirthing class. After about 15 minutes laying in bed, I had my first very mild but obvious contraction and it became clear that I wasn’t going to go to sleep because I was far too excited. After a handful more contractions I decided to time them. The hospital had told me that normally they have people come in when contractions are 2 minutes apart, but because I lived an hour away and it’s a high risk birth, they would like me to present when my contractions are 5 minutes apart. To my surprise, my contractions were already 5 minutes apart, although they were not strong at all so I wasn’t sure what to do. I called the hospital to let them know and to tell them that I didn’t think that I needed to come in yet because my contractions weren’t strong. They told me that because my water had broken they wanted me to come in anyway. So off we went.

Upon arrival at the hospital I was checked and the doctor confirmed that my water had broken, but that I wasn’t dilated at all. He talked to me about my plan to have a vaginal breach birth, and advised that with vaginal breach births, it’s best to let the body birth itself without interference, which includes no inductions and no epidurals. Luckily for me I was not planning to have either of these anyway. We were left to get some rest and by the time we fell asleep it was close to 2:00 a.m. By 6:00 a.m. my contractions were strong enough that I couldn’t sleep anymore.

I spent a lot of time bouncing on the ball, pacing my room, and smelling my clary sage oil. We had battery operated candles set up in the room and relaxing music playing from a Bluetooth speaker. A midwife came in mid-morning and put in a cannula in my hand and strapped the continuous monitoring (CTG) onto my belly. From that point there was constantly a midwife in the room with me.

I laboured for hours and hours and hours. The day dragged on, I chatted and giggled with anyone who’s in the room with me, and I breathed through my contractions. Food was delivered to the room and I took a couple of bites but couldn’t really stomach eating more than that. A handful of my contractions were so strong that I vomited. At one point I had a vaginal exam and I was told that I’d made it to 4 cm and I was advised that I had started to run a fever, which combined with my water breaking early on can be a sign of infection, so I was administered antibiotics.

A few hours later another exam put me at 6 cm, hooray!! I remember specifically thinking, 7 cm is generally when women are in transition, shit is about to get real. A few hours later I was really struggling. The contractions were so strong. I thought for sure things were progressing and we were getting to the pointy end. I had another vaginal exam and I had regressed to 4 cm. It was so disheartening. An OB came in and told me that due to my lack of progress and the fact that I’d been running a fever, they were now recommending I have a c-section. I asked for some more time to try and get things moving and I was told that it was completely up to me and that whatever I decided to do I would be supported, which made me feel really good.

I moved into the shower and kneeled down. Tony had the water on as hot as it would go and was spraying it on my back which helped with the pain of the contractions. We stayed in there for ages. After a couple hours, Tony told the midwife that I was ready to get checked again. As I waited for the doctor to come back and check me, I was sitting on the pregnancy ball and leaning over the bed. I was unconscious in between contractions, waking up to moan through them, and then unconscious again when each one finished. My heart rate was so high during the contractions that the CTG was struggling to differentiate between my heart rate and the baby’s heart rate. I really wasn’t coping.

The doctor came in to do another vaginal exam. I hadn’t progressed at all. I didn’t realise at the time, but the OB pulled Tony aside and told him that if we didn’t proceed with getting baby out soon, we could be looking at some pretty bad outcomes. Tony was really worried and had begun crying, but I was too out of it to notice. We were given some privacy to discuss what we wanted to do, and I decided that it was time to have a c-section. I was happy that it was my own decision and that I didn’t feel pressured or scared into it. I was so grateful that I at least had the opportunity to try to have a natural birth, even if that’s not how it was going to end.

It’s funny, through the entire 24 hours of my labour, I never once considered asking for any pain management, but the second I consented to the c-section and I knew drugs were on their way, I became very impatient with every contraction that I had.

I was wheeled into pre-op. My memory here is pretty foggy because I was so tired. I sat in the pre-op room for a little while before I was wheeled into the operating theatre and the anaesthesiologist prepared to give me a spinal. I was sitting on the edge of the bed hunched all the way over, and the biggest guy in the room put his elbows on my shoulders and put all of his weight onto me so that I couldn’t move. Just as they were about to put in the needle, I started to have a contraction and yelled, ” I’m having a contraction!” Everyone stood still and waited for it to pass. Once it was done they put in the spinal and I laid down. Some time passed while I assume they prepared the room and me for my c-section and waited for the spinal to take effect. I just remember chatting with Tony and being excited that we were going to meet our baby.

Soon enough they started to cut me open. Tony stood up to have a look over the curtain, and I made a joke about him not seeing something that was going to make him faint, which scared the staff in the room and they firmly told Tony that he needed to sit down or else they would kick him out. Oops. Before I knew it they lowered the curtain and lifted up baby Oliver. He was staring straight into the operating lights and looked like the sweetest little alien I’d ever seen.

They held them there for about 60 seconds and then clamped and cut his cord and took him over to another table. Tony went and stood by him while they checked him over. Tony asked if he was allowed to touch his nose to check for his nasal bone and they told him that it was his baby and he could do whatever he wanted. Low and behold, everything was perfectly fine with his nose, and there were no chromosome issues.

Our sweet baby boy was born at 8:25 pm on February 10th, weighing only 2.95 kg, putting him at the 9th percentile for newborn weight.

Ollie was crying while he was on the table and my heart was broken that I wasn’t cuddling him. He would have only been over there for a few minutes but it felt like an eternity without my baby. Soon they brought him over and pulled my gown down so that we could have skin to skin.

I couldn’t believe that my baby was here. We cuddled and I smothered him in kisses. Soon he started rooting for my breast and I asked if I could feed him. The midwives in the room rushed over and helped him latch onto my breast and he had his first feed right there on the operating table while they were still stitching me up.

One of the midwives asked me if I wanted to see my placenta, which I did and had a quick look at, but honestly I was just so over the moon that my baby was here that I didn’t pay close attention.

Once I was all stitched up, Ollie and Tony were moved to the maternity Ward, And I was taken to recovery. I hated being away from my baby. I was so incredibly tired, but I remember lying in recovery, thinking to myself, I need to be the best patient ever right now and show them how good I am recovering from that surgery so that I can go and be with my baby as soon as possible. Luckily it was only 30 minutes before I was also moved to the maternity ward.

Joys and Challenges After Birth

When I got into our room, Tony and Ollie were already having some skin to skin cuddles. I was able to feed Ollie again and the three of us had a few hours together before they told Tony that he had to go home because it was outside of visiting hours. At this point it was about 11:00 p.m. And I think visiting hours had finished at 7:00 p.m. so Tony headed home.

Ollie slept beautifully the first night, and when he did wake, I just pressed the call button and a midwife came and gave him to me in bed to feed, and then they would come and put him back in his bassinet when we were all done. Tony came back the next morning as soon as they would let him in and soaked up lots of baby cuddles while I rested and napped.

At some point that day I was able to get out of bed and have a shower. I was very slow moving, but grateful that I could get my baby myself when he needed me now. That day was filled with lots of cuddles and getting to know our new baby. Ollie had a little bit of jaundice. They checked his levels and they were low enough that no intervention was required. Once again Tony had to leave in the evening, so it was just Ollie and I.

I didn’t realize that second night syndrome was a thing, which is basically when baby doesn’t go to sleep and wants to spend the entire night on the boob. This is an important process as it tells mom’s body that the baby is ready for milk. I thought there was something wrong with my Ollie because I couldn’t put him down for more than 10 minutes without him screaming, which meant that I wasn’t getting any sleep.

I called the midwife in and explained that he’d slept so well the night before and there must be something wrong now. And she simply said, “Welcome to motherhood”. From 7:00 p.m. until 5:00 a.m. I didn’t get any sleep. Ollie would only sleep if my boob was in his mouth and the second I put him back in his bassinet he would wake up. Finally, in the morning Tony came back and I was able to actually get some sleep.

I really didn’t want to keep doing these nights by myself with no help, so I was keen to go home. We asked the staff when I would be discharged, and amazingly because I was recovering so well, walking and feeding well and Ollie was doing fantastic, we were discharged that afternoon.

Well that’s the story of my first baby’s pregnancy and birth. It was a challenging and stressful journey, but one that changed me and my life forever.

Feel free to comment below if you have any questions about any of the details. I know that lots of women have all sorts of scares and complications on their journeys, so if there’s anything additional I can share that might help, just let me know!