We're home!

Triple J was born on Saturday 8th August, at home, after a super-speedy 90 minute labour which was almost unattended because of my reluctance to trouble anyone unnecessarily! But someone arrived in time to confirm what I already knew - that a baby was indeed emerging into the water. He weighed in at 10lb 15oz, which was a bit of a shock considering I'd been told the day before he was likely to weigh around 8lb 7oz. Well, we all know that ultrasounds are a tad more inaccurate than they like to make out, don't we?! And it also goes to show that a 5'2", size 10 woman (with decent childbearing hips!) is perfectly capable of delivering big babies.

So that was the good bit - a very straightforward delivery and birth with unnecessary meddling, messing, cajoling or coercing.

And then the bad bit. At the risk of giving you too much information, I'll try to explain the reason for my recent absence. Some time after the birth, I began to feel bad. Very, very bad. Eventually, an ambulance was called and once we arrived at hospital, it became apparent that I had developed a large internal haematoma - essentially a blood-filled swelling - that was growing rapidly. This condition has rarely been seen in women who have just given birth (it's most common in people who have undergone surgery and sustained an accidental cut to vessel-rich tissue in the process) and the cause of it will never be known (although they think it was Triple J's long, sharp fingernails that nicked my vaginal wall on his way out; his hand was up by his face as he barrelled out). As no-one was familiar with such a condition, they could not operate immediately, and I had to wait for several hours in no small amount of pain whilst they figured out what to do. Morphine did not cut the mustard, unfortunately. They also sourced blood, platelets, plasma and a Very Important Consultant whilst they were busy researching and deliberating. 

One thing led to another and the haematoma burst of its own accord before they got to it, solving a dilemma for them. Early Sunday morning saw me receiving more than my body's worth full of blood, as well as the attention of consultants, doctors, anaesthetists, haematologists, radiographers and other medical staff who worked very hard to ensure that not only did I survive, but that I was comforted and treated with the utmost respect and dignity. Many people stayed with me long after they had expected to be back at home and tucked up in bed, and I am so grateful to the hand holders and the instrument wielders alike. I had a couple more scares on Sunday, but by Monday things were looking up and by Wednesday I was desperate for my own bed. I've had a couple of days resting and today I have been up and about properly - so I thought I'd fill you in.

Obviously, these events have sparked a number of posts and I am busy working on them at the moment, but here they are in brief:

Home birth versus hospital birth - Risk/safety considerations of both; my experiences of both; an assessment of the physical and emotional outcomes each time, and the conflicting medical perspectives and perceptions of pathology demonstrated by maternity staff and specialists from other areas.

NHS maternity services versus independent midwifery - Who owns my body? An overview from going two weeks "overdue"; subsequent hospital monitoring; being on the delivery ward as a high dependency, emergency admission, and a more general assessment of hospital birth, postnatal care and support.

The NHS debate - Feeling grateful, my ongoing concerns and a rather pragmatic perspective; drawing parallels with the state education system and other interesting commentary from the blogosphere.

Temperament - On having two completely different babies, and why Gina Ford et al can kiss my rather punctured behind.

Second time around - How we are doing everything our way this time round, and how delicious such freedom really is.

I've also got a post on this article, and what I mean by saying NO to the DCSF.

I want to say thank you to everyone who emailed, messaged and tweeted me following the last post on this blog. I have not finished replying yet, but you all got me through those final days and every single word from every single person was dearly appreciated. I'll be getting back to you over the next week or two - having mulled over your experiences and thoughts (yours in particular, Gill) I have an idea for something that might help at least some women who find themselves in a similar position to me. I'm hoping to start work on this in the next couple of months, so more on that to follow.

Finally, thank you to all the blood donors out there. This lovely lady informs me that I have to hang up my donating hat now I've been on the receiving end of the National Blood Service, which is a real shame, but if you are interested in giving, then you can find more information here.

Lisa

I'm still here!

But there is no baby. Despite a normal pregnancy lasting between 37 and 42 weeks, the NHS likes to start the clock ticking at 40 weeks - and, despite the research and evidence available to them, many professionals get twitchy if a pregnancy exceeds 42 weeks.

Rather than offering ongoing monitoring and supporting a healthy woman to wait for labour to begin spontaneously (where of course it is her wish to so do), the NHS is often desperate to induce - despite all of the risks to the health and safety of the mother and child that induced labour holds. It's an option that many women simply don't want to pursue unless it is a genuine medical necessity, and for very good reason. But despite their legal entitlement to refuse, it's often something that women are coerced into at time when they are particularly vulnerable, leading to an increased likelihood of all manner of problems which I've discussed in previous posts. 

This is why, when I went to my midwife on Monday (just over 41 weeks) I was a little apprehensive. She was desperate to perform a cervical sweep on me, and I had to battle to refuse. That's right, I had to battle to stop someone I have met 5 times from sticking their fingers in my vagina and having a good old rootle round, in order to just-possibly-on-the-off-chance achieve something my body was clearly not yet ready to do on its own. I did not want it, but I was made to feel bad for refusing. And the reason she was so keen to get in there? She had two student midwives with her, eager to watch. My personal wishes were an inconvenience and the atmosphere became a little tense.

When I informed her that, for as long as the baby and I were healthy, I did not want to be induced, the tension increased a notch and she said:

"I do not have the authority to allow you to refuse, so you will have to see the registrar at the hospital. He will decide whether you can continue with your pregnancy."

Now there are two issues here. One - all I need is my authority, thank you very much. But two - this is an informed decision I am making. I am a heavily pregnant woman. I am not stupid. I want to make the right choice for me and my unborn child. And, having done all the research I need to, as well as listening to my own body, I know that I am far safer watching and waiting, rather than opting for an artificial start to labour, with all of the interventions that will likely follow and cause more harm than good. I don't need a registrar with a very specific perspective on childbirth to tell me if I can continue with my pregnancy, thank you very much.

So, knowing that the appointment with the registrar would be all about Stafford General's outdated policies and procedures in relation to post-dates labour, and nothing to do with me as an individual, my unique pregnancy, and my specific circumstances, I went home and cried for 24 hours. I appreciate that this might sound a little overblown to someone who has not been through a similar situation. But I knew that, for the sake of NHS process, I was going to be pressurised into something that stood a very good chance of turning into a repeat experience of last time - something that was so incredibly painful, abusive and traumatic that it affected me for months afterwards.

What to do? I had ended up so far inside a system that, in gearing itself up to pick up every conceivable risk, however unlikely, actually causes far more harm than good to a significant proportion of women that pass through it. A system that sees nothing wrong in forcing women to accept serious interventions that are not medically necessary by making out that they are - often illegally, often also witholding information about the actual risks of those interventions. A system that sees excellent outcomes for women who labour (often elsewhere than in hospital) without epidurals and therefore uncritically elects to withold epidurals from women to achieve the same excellent outcomes. All without thinking even for a minute that those excellent outcomes have little to do with the mere absence of a needle in the spine and everything to do with women remaining safe, supported, respected and in control of their own bodies during labour - however and wherever they do it. A system that most women have little option but to turn to.

Again then, what to do? Well, last night, I bought my way out of it. I've paid (twice, effectively) to make sure that the NHS doesn't use its might to blackmail or force me into accepting unnecessary interventions for its own convenience, or for the sake of a lowest common denominator solution, rather than my health and safety. We had planned to do this when I got pregnant, but couldn't find anyone suitable. Now I wish we'd looked a little harder.

I met my new midwife today, in my own home, for a good two or three hours of assessment and chat. The difference that independence from the NHS makes is amazing, and not a little depressing. She radiated a willingness to accept personal and professional responsibility for me and my baby. She was relaxed, enthusiastic, fully confident in her ability, and, just as importantly, mine. She was completely up to date with the latest research in every aspect of what we discussed, and respectful of the benefits of medical and technological input where there is a genuine requirement for it. But most importantly, she worked on the fundamental principle that every woman (and every pregnancy) is individual - and experienced, professional people are far better able to cater for this than mindless reliance on the stock policies and procedures of a creaking bureacracy. She came across as incredibly empowered - and that has now rubbed off on me.

Now, don't get me wrong. The NHS has finite resources and we expect it to use them as efficiently as possible. No-one expects a service of luxury. 

BUT. It is not a luxury to expect the NHS to operate within the law. It is not a luxury to expect that one will not be pressurised or forced into accepting harmful and unnecessary medical and surgical interventions. It is not a luxury to expect that one will be treated with dignity and care. It is not a luxury to expect that the majority will not be at risk of harm in order to protect the tiny minority who actually require intervention. And yet this is what often happens.

I am so glad, by the way, for the women who do have positive experiences; I don't wish to take anything away from them or the professionals who are caught between their desire to do what they know is right and the ever-increasing control of a system that cannot adequately meet the needs of individuals. However, those positive experiences are in no way guaranteed. And so next time, I will avoid that system from the very beginning - it's the only way I can see to protect myself and my unborn child. But what is the bigger solution?

(I'd love to know what you think, but I am disabling comments for this one so it's better to email me. I'll try and write a post based on the suggestions I receive, if there's time. If I don't disable comments then I will invariably get some doctor-saviour-of-the-stupid-pregnant-women who does not read or digest a word of what I have written, but is desperate to tell me nonetheless that "the safe passage of mother and child is paramount" LIKE I DON'T FRICKIN' CARE ABOUT THAT. And I am in a place right now (41 weeks and 5 days) where I do not need such idiocy, having only narrowly avoided it in real life.)

One of the best things about blogging is the wider community within which one blogs. Not only have I been provided with really useful information and further reading by one generous blogger I've also been gratified to read Blogdial's excellent posts of this week, covering some of the areas I would love to get my teeth into but simply don't have the energy for at the moment.

So a very quick summary.

Blogdial writes a very important post on social work and child protection; I cannot emphasise this enough. Please read it.

The less-than-admirable Simon Webb, himself a home educator (and allegedly a close colleague of la Badman, not to mention a "third rate hack" - his words) calls for his masters to "get tough" on the rest of us, especially those who educate autonomously. What Simon appears to lack the intellectual vigour to understand is that fighting for anything other than the freedom for all to educate as they choose within the existing legislation (which protects children and parents alike) actually puts him and his family at risk in the future. For those who desire it, there is always a suitable time and place for intelligent debate about people's personal choices, but here and now is not suitable - and neither can what Simon says be described as intelligent.

Jeremy Yallop soundly refutes Simon Webb's flawed and biased argument in the TES here. Blogdial also takes him apart in a most satisfactory manner here. All I would add is that in his desire to impose his narrow and limited worldview on everybody else, Simon does perhaps deserve our sympathy - if anyone can muster any. Anyone who so desperately gravitates towards illegitimate power, desiring complete control over other people's futures almost certainly has less power and control than he would like within his own life.

Ed Balls spoke about another pet initiative - the Family Intervention Project - and only the most authoritarian of individuals would actually require me to fisk what he had to say in order to expose how despicable such an initiative actually is. Or perhaps Ed is finally showing us his sense of humour by satirising his dictatorial tendencies? Quote:

"The British government is to put the more irresponsible families under CCTV supervision in their homes – just to ensure their children attend school, go to bed on time and eat proper meals. Private security guards will also be sent round to carry out home checks, while parents will be given help to combat drug and alcohol addiction, Children’s Secretary Ed Balls says. As per the £400million plans announced, the problem families will be under 24-hour CCTV surveillance."

Working Dad covers it here with additional links, if you can stomach them, but for all of those "nothing to hide, nothing to fear" types (such as Simon): Do not ever assume that the government's ever-expanding definition of "irresponsible" will not extend to cover you. Eventually, it will.

Well, time to enjoy the rest of the weekend. I have a date with my family, a bottle of Gaviscon and several boxes of soap for my sniffing pleasure - my most bizarre craving to date.