I became pregnant quickly and felt very excited. Early on I looked into my birthing options. I did not consider birthing at home even though my father was born at home, as I didn’t realise it was an option and booked into the maternity ward of a nearby hospital. Elsbeth was engaged at 34 weeks and in a good position, however, at 38 weeks she moved into a posterior position. The hospital was aware of this, though they did not suggest trying to turn her back around and I did not know the significance of her being in a posterior position.  

At 39 1/2 weeks I went into spontaneous labour. Labour progressed quickly and within a couple of hours I was experiencing contractions at 2 minutes apart. I had lots of back pain and felt that something wasn’t right and I needed to be at the hospital where it could be investigated. The pain I felt was due to the posterior position of my baby, which was made worse by lying down or sitting. When I got to the hospital, a midwife led me into a labour room and suggested that I would not be able to use a bath due to a small fluid leak I’d had a couple of hours earlier. I had planned on using the bath for pain relief and at that point I looked to my husband as if to say what the hell do I do now?? Next, in came the nurse who I'd spoken to on the phone and who hadn’t seemed concerned when I phoned in labour. I didn’t establish a rapport with her. My fear and pain levels were increasing, such that I was unable to cope with the contractions any longer and I demanded an epidural.  

I was examined and was found to be 5-6 cm dilated. There was no mention of my baby’s posterior positioning and how it should be managed. The anaesthetist arrived and it took a harrowing 20 minutes to have the epidural inserted into my spine. I had significant fluid retention and he had a lot of trouble finding the right spot to put it in and my contractions were there most of the time and it took everything for me to keep still. My husband held me tightly and watched intently for when I was having a break between contraction's and relayed this to the anaesthetist. The anaesthetist apparently had sweat dripping off his brow and his hands were shaking. The epidural was finally in and I was examined and found to be 7cm dilated.  

I stayed on my back for a few hours, still with no consideration of moving my baby out of a posterior position. I felt that things should be moving along as the early stages had been so intense and I asked the technician where things were up to and she did a VE and told me I was fully dilated and I could start pushing once the epidural wore off. The incredibly intense contractions resumed and my instincts told me I was still dilating and wasn't actually ready to push. Needless to say, I was instructed to push, while still on my back, and I pushed with extreme effort for 20 minutes. I felt that I needed to stand up to help my baby out and the midwife discouraged this. I stood anyway and my waters broke with a huge gush and I leaned into the bed as I still had monitors attached to my belly.

An obstetrician walked in and showed surprise at the fluid on the floor. The monitor had slipped off my abdomen and they made a big fuss over the reading and suggested there was a problem with my baby. I exclaimed that the monitor slipped off. Then I was being told that my labour was not progressing and that I’d had a good go at pushing (20 minutes when I wasn't fully dilated and had no urge) and that my baby was posterior (this was finally acknowledged). I was advised that a caesarean would be necessary for my baby to be born. I asked for a bit more time and was given until 7am (I can’t remember what the time was, but 7am was less than a couple of hours away). I tried pushing again and watched the clock on the wall opposite as 7am approached. The pain of the contractions became severe again and a new shift of midwives and student midwives arrived. Suddenly my room seemed bright and filled with a lot of people whom I didn’t know. The obstetrician returned, with I think another 1 or 2 people – I couldn’t keep track of who was who. She suggested it was time to go to theatre and I asked if forceps could be used to try to turn my baby around so I might be able to still birth her vaginally. This was agreed to and I was advised that if the forceps were unsuccessful then a caesarean would be needed. I reluctantly agreed, thinking that the forceps would work and having no other option at that time and signed the consent form for the forceps trial and a caesarean procedure if forceps was unsuccessful.  

I was wheeled into theatre, and had started crying and Damien walked beside me and was crying too. He was advised that he was not able to come into theatre without the appropriate clothes. He demanded that he was coming in and there was no way they were stopping him. He was given some theatre clothes and he quickly threw them on. I continued crying while he sat behind my head wiping my tears away and rubbing my face. There was a man with a psych background standing beside me talking calmly and explaining what was being done to me. I found myself to be lying on my back in a bright room filled with what seemed up to 10 people who were talking away and I was the centre of attention under a bright spotlight.

The female obstetrician who had seen me earlier was there and another man who I did not know, but gathered he was in training. I didn't consent to anyone practising on me and my baby. The female put the forceps in and she clicked them on my baby’s head with a massive thud and my pelvis shuddered. I asked 'what was that?' and no one answered me. I demanded more loudly 'what was that?' and someone told me it was just the forceps being clamped open. The female started turning Elsbeth's head around with the forceps to straighten her. This was successful and I think I pushed for a few contractions. My baby wasn’t coming out so the male tried pulling and he used a lot of force, such that I slid along the table by about a foot. Damien said quite firmly that that was enough!  

Then I was told that a caesarean would be necessary and the male obstetrician put his hand in my vagina and pushed my baby back up. I began crying uncontrollably and my pubic hair was shaved off. All the while Damien cried with me and comforted me. An incision was made in my abdomen and uterus and my baby was pulled out. She was screaming as she was whisked across the bright room above me and over to a bench nearby. She was assessed and Damien cut her cord, which had been cut from the placenta as it was removed separately. I continued crying out of happiness and relief that she was well and that my ordeal was over. It was suggested by staff that she be taken somewhere, and Damien asked if I wanted him to go with her or stay with me. I suggested he go with her, not realising I could say no to her being taken away. Someone brought her to me so I could kiss her which felt patronizing. She had a dent in her left temple where the forceps had been.  

I was stitched up while people in the room chatted away about their weekends and someone’s skitrip. No one apologised for how I was treated or what had just happened to me and my baby as though it was normal, in fact I thanked them for giving me a healthy baby. I must have passed out or fallen asleep as the next thing I knew I was in recovery and my daughter, Elsbeth was at my breast. I spent the next few hours singing Hush little baby to her over and over, as if to make up for what she'd gone through and show her that I was there and was going to look after her.  

I believed for quite a while that the caesarean had been necessary – it didn’t occur to me that the hospital would perform an operation that was not necessary – surely it was in fact the only way my daughter could have been born. Well, with a lot of research, reading and discussion with women experienced in birth, I realised this wasn’t true and could see the glaring inadequacies in how Elsbeth’s labour was managed. The biggest was that my instincts didn’t enter into it. I knew that I needed to move her out of the position she was in, yet this wasn’t considered at all by my birth attendants. They didn’t listen to me, empower me to give birth, support me as needed, but rather they took control of my labour and treated my baby and me disrespectfully and unethically. 

As I realised that I had been coerced in labour and Elsbeth and I had gone through a traumatic birth experience unnecessarily, I became angry and sad and even felt guilt. Angry that I was treated as such by people who I expected to be professional and act in my best interests, sad at what Elsbeth and I had lost and could never do again, and guilty because I let it happen. I requested my hospital notes, which aroused further feelings of anger and sadness, although it helped me start the healing process as I realised the hospital had managed my labour in a manner which was highly likely to lead to a caesarean. The most significant part of my traumatic experience is the fact that I was manipulated to meet their schedule, rather than mine and my baby’s.  

I lodged a complaint with the HCCC and received a response from the hospital supporting every course of action they followed. The reason for the surgery was documented as Failure to Progress due to malposition. I had not been advised of this in the hospital, but was led to believe it was a mismatch of my pelvis and my daughter’s head. I responded to the HCCC that they did not assist in correcting my baby’s position and was advised by the hospital that there is no medical evidence to prove that optimal foetal positioning is warranted, both before labour starts and during.   

I have accepted the circumstances of Elsbeth's birth as I now understand the litigious and economic forces in play in the way babies are born in hospitals. I hope this will change in the future and women are empowered to take back their birth rite and taught that birth is safe and that they have the ability to give birth in most instances without intervention.