Maternity Experience
Home » Page 9

The Importance of Balanced Messages When Talking About Birth

by / Environment and Facilities, Language / Comments Off on The Importance of Balanced Messages When Talking About Birth

This post was prompted by a Twitter discussion about helpful and unhelpful vocabulary in healthcare communication.

The discussion stemmed from a Guardian article bearing the headline “Should pregnant women be encouraged to shun labour wards?”.

The words used in the headline falls into the ‘unhelpful’ category. The article actually includes the experiences of three people: one an advocate for home birth; a mum who chose to give birth in a hospital; and a dad whose wife chose a home birth for their fourth child – there were complications and he advocates choice. In short, the article really says “different women choose different places to give birth for different reasons”.

Articles such as this are all as a result of new NICE guidelines that suggest 45% of births are more suitable for midwife-led care or home birth. Difficulties with healthcare communication and such headlines can arise when words such as ‘are’ and ‘is’ are used. Yes, the guidelines are based on evidence, but when you say ‘are’ and ‘is’, people tend to interpret that as a blanket fact. ‘Could be’ is better than ‘are’ because each woman is an individual, with her own individual needs.

Some commentators are concerned the guidelines could remove choice, rather than giving more, worrying that ‘encouraging’ women to give birth at home is a euphemism for ‘forcing’ them to do so.

This example demonstrates that whenever a new guideline on any health matter is released, it will be met with a healthy dose of cognitive dissonance – people interpreting the news based on their own experiences, expectations, hopes and fears.

Cognitive dissonance happens even if you have evidence for your new guidance coming out of your ears. As an NHS communications manager, countless hours of my life have been spent translating NHS guidance on a range of matters – cancer screening, vaccinations and healthy lifestyles to name just a few – into something that the public can understand, relate to – and hopefully act on.

When writing a press release on a health matter, or a patient information leaflet great caution has to be taken to not over-generalise, raise unrealistic expectations, or be misinterpreted by the media (although with the best will in the world the latter is not always possible).

I understand that years of scare stories about all forms of birth have led to a crippling fear of birth. Balance is what is needed. When talking about home birth or midwife-led care being a safe or a safer (than hospital) option for a certain group of women, we should be careful to emphasise those options are not safe or safer than a hospital birth for every woman. A lack of that emphasis could have the unintended consequence of making women who have to give birth in hospital, or need to have interventions for whatever reason feel less of a woman, or to have failed, or to feel guilty.

Surely none of us want that.

20140320_161723

I know a couple of women who have given birth by Caesarean section, both emergency and elective. They said they have had comments from women who have delivered their babies naturally such as women who have had C-sections ‘haven’t really given birth’. What a horrible thing to say! I had an emergency C-section myself, and while I have little doubt pushing a baby out of your vagina hurts (a lot, probably), having your stomach muscles cut open is far from an easy option.

Yes, we need to stop fear of birth. Yes, we need to promote birth as a normal life event. But we should be careful to not encourage or perpetuate bitchiness and competition between women as another unintended consequence of these messages.

This is the kind of statement about birth that I would love to read:

“Individual women have individual needs when giving birth. Many women are able to give birth at home, but because of issues with the current system not all who want to choose a home birth get it. Hospital can be a stressful place to give birth, which can lead to some women having interventions that are unnecessary. That’s why we’d like to give more women, in joint discussion with them, the option to give birth at home if they are considered to be low-risk. However, the needs of mums and babies are paramount, and as birth is not always straightforward there may be mums who need to give birth in hospital, with or without intervention.

“Our ultimate aim is for every woman’s experience of birth to be positive. We will do that by empowering women to be able to voice their opinions, have as many options as possible, and strive to remove fear and guilt by saying there is no right way or place to give birth.”

I know my fantasy statement above is what the guidelines are trying to achieve – this statement from NICE sort of says the same thing.

The trouble is, some people will be literal and translate the key point into ‘they’re saying home birth is safer, that means hospital birth must be dangerous’. This isn’t helped by headlines such as this one from The Mirror: “Mums-to-be warned: ‘Have your baby at home, it’s safer’”.

Many people are too busy to delve in to the facts behind the story (or just can’t be bothered to look). That results in a perception that the guidelines are saying something like:

“Home is the safest place to have your baby! Good luck to you if you have to give birth in hospital. They’re scary places, staffed by evil obstetricians whose greatest pleasure comes from inflicting pain by doing things to you that you don’t need.”

Ergo, more fear is created by stigmatising hospital birth. We don’t want such a vicious circle. So, balance. When talking about birth, think about helpful and unhelpful words, how they might be interpreted and their consequences.

We also need a greater emphasis on patient feedback, so services know what to focus on. Happily, more hospitals throughout the NHS are doing this.

As well as listening to negative experiences so services can improved, we need also need to promote the positive experiences – fear not, there are plenty of them, wherever the mum gives birth, and however the baby comes out.

 

Note: I called the statement a ‘fantasy’ for sake of the avoidance of doubt that it’s not an official statement.

Share the Word About MatExp!

My HELLP Syndrome Experience (Part 1)

by / Birth Trauma, Environment and Facilities, Informed Choice, Language, Pregnancy Complications / Comments Off on My HELLP Syndrome Experience (Part 1)

One night when I was 23 weeks’ pregnant, I woke up with a pain in my chest.

“Heartburn,” I thought.

It was uncomfortable, I felt constantly full. Normal heartburn medicine did nothing.

I was putting on a lot of weight. Normal for pregnancy, I thought.

I was becoming breathless. Related to the weight gain, I thought.

I was very emotional. Normal pregnancy hormones.

I Googled my symptoms. Preeclampsia was a possibility. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I thought, “I am only 23 weeks’ pregnant.”

This went on for six days. Getting progressively worse.

The heartburn became painful. I was unable to sleep. I got up in the night to drink milk. I don’t like drinking milk. I even resorted to taking paracetamol, having resisted any drugs in my pregnancy until then.

Day seven brought a routine midwife appointment. High blood pressure. Ridiculously high. Surely the machine must be broken, I have low blood pressure. Three pluses of protein in my urine. I had to go straight to hospital for further checks.

I knew the protein was a symptom of preeclampsia, but I was not worried because I was only 24 weeks pregnant. I thought it was a problem only in later pregnancy. I thought I would be bored in hospital. Lots of waiting around. I had forgotten my Kindle.

How wrong I was.

Arriving at Bedford Hospital, more urine given, blood taken.

A consultant comes to see me. I have preeclampsia and something called HELLP syndrome. Everything else is irrelevant because they say I will have to deliver my baby that night. I am seriously ill, and the only cure is to deliver the baby.

It is early, far too early.

I am distraught. So is Martin. We cannot believe it.

An injection is put in to my thigh. It hurts. But it is a steroid, to help my baby’s lungs develop. It is the first of two such injections.

I am taken to a room that doubles as an operating theatre. I have to remove all my clothes and put on a gown. I am advised to remove my rings, because sooner or later my whole body will swell and they would have to be cut off.

A catheter is inserted. I do not understand at that time the concern for my kidneys. I am sure someone must have told me, but I do not remember. It takes me several weeks to figure out the connection.

I must have a cannula so they can give me magnesium sulphate to protect my and my unborn baby’s brain from potential seizures. A doctor tries, then the consultant. Anaesthetists are called. They try, one arm each. So many attempts, but the cannulas do not flush through. I am able to count 20 puncture marks when the bruises appear later that week. Martin leaves the room because he cannot bear to see me in such pain.

Mercifully, they give up and insert a central line. I lie perfectly still, a plastic sheet over my head as they insert a line into my jugular. It is stitched into place. It is difficult to move my head.

They start the magnesium sulphate through the line in my neck. All of a sudden I am on fire. My skin is burning. I throw up.

A radiographer comes to take an x-ray of my chest, to make sure the central line is in the right place, not poking into a lung. A lead apron is placed over my belly to protect the baby. I am asked if I am happy having an x-ray because I am pregnant. “Of course I am not bloody happy about it,” I reply. But what choice do I have? A punctured lung not do me or my baby any good.

Me in Bedford Hospital. You can see the central line in my neck, and how big I was becoming (besides me being 24 weeks' pregnant).

I am told I my baby will have to be born that night. There will be no time to induce me, so a Caesarean section it is. An epidural is out of the question because my platelet levels are too low. A general anaesthetic it will have to be. My baby is too small to be cared for in that hospital so will be immediately transferred elsewhere, with me following when stable enough.

Platelets are what enable the blood to clot. An epidural could cause bleeding in my spine and leave me paralysed. I do not want to be paralysed, but nor do I want my baby to be sent away from me, with the chance that I will never meet him.

Two neonatologists come to see me. This hospital is equipped to care for babies from 34 weeks. My baby is far too early. I can see the fear and uncertainty in their eyes. They say there is a 50/50 chance whether our baby will be born alive. If alive, he is likely to suffer a short, painful life because of brain bleeds and bowel problems. They ask us if we would want them to attempt resuscitation. We do not hesitate to say we want our much-wanted baby to be given every chance. We are terrified.

This is Monday night. Martin sleeps on a reclining chair next to me. Except neither of us sleep. We both sob, mourning the baby we have not yet met.

I am given hourly checks on my reflexes. I am not allowed to eat, with the possibility of a general anaesthetic soon. I am allowed only enough water to swallow more medication. I am attached to a blood pressure machine and a sensor on my finger to monitor my heart rate.

Morning arrives. My baby is still in my belly. Relief! I am feeling much better. I am allowed to eat, but my fluid intake is still strictly monitored. My mum arrives, having set off early that morning and driven all the way from Devon.

The doctors are puzzled. My condition has stabilised, and some things have even improved. I am special. The kind of special that no one wants to be. I am still not going anywhere though. I am forbidden from getting out of bed. They are waiting for me to be stable enough to be transported to a bigger, specialist hospital. Wherever has a spare bed.

A student midwife is posted next to my bed all day. I am glad, I have someone to chat to. I do not realise at that time that she is there not for my entertainment, but in case I suddenly have a seizure, or otherwise suddenly deteriorate.

The midwives consult the procedure for the care of women with preeclampsia, it is something they see so rarely. They are kind and different ones pop in to see me to see how I am getting on.

A friend visits. While she was there, she tells me months later, the consultant arrives. He tells me I am seriously ill and that they are very worried about me. “Oh ok!” I apparently cheerfully reply. My friend is terrified. I remember her visiting, but I do not remember this conversation.

I am completely, blissfully, away with the fairies.

That night Martin returns home to sleep. There are more hourly checks. Some people turn on the wrong light switch, turning on the dazzling theatre lights. The infusion machine seems to be programmed to occlude and alarm every time I drop off to sleep. I am exhausted.

Wednesday morning arrives. I am allowed to get out of bed for the first time since Monday evening. I waddle to the shower to sort of get clean – I am told to try to not get my central line wet.

A bed has been found for me at St George’s Hospital, in south London. Liverpool was next on the list. I am happy with south London. In fact, I don’t really care. An ambulance has been called to take me there. Two midwives will accompany me. What an overreaction, I think, I feel much better than I did on Monday. Martin is unable to come in the ambulance, not enough room, so he follows by train.

We speed down the M1, blue lights and sirens blaring. Zoom through central London. The ambulance is uncomfortable, lying on a stretcher.

I arrive at St George’s. Taken to another private room. The midwives and paramedics wish me well and depart. My history is taken by more doctors. They say I will be moving to another room, one with more monitoring capacity, but first they need to move the woman currently in there out: I need it more. The severity of my illness still doesn’t dawn on me.

I am taken in a wheelchair for Doppler scan. It is a busy waiting room. People stare at me in my bottom-baring gown, central line, catheter, and generally looking a mess.

Martin and I are excited at seeing our baby on the screen. We are told our baby is growth-restricted, but I am mesmerised. The sonographer apologises, she would like to explain more but it is a rush, it is the end of the day, and she needs to get the results to the consultants. We are given an appointment for another scan in a week’s time. Hope.

I wait in the corridor for a porter to take me back to the ward. My heartburn is getting worse. I feel so sick. The pain is awful. I just want someone to take the pain away. Back on the ward, I do not know what to do myself. The pain! I stand by the bed. I start to shake uncontrollably. I am given medication, the pain goes away. I feel so much better.

That night I sleep so well. Martin is on a mattress on the floor next to me. I have my hourly checks. The baby’s heartbeat is strong. Everything feels ok. I will wait in this bed for a few weeks, let my baby get bigger and stronger before he has to be born. I will be bored out of my mind, but that will be ok.

I do not have time to be bored.

Thursday morning, a contingent of consultants arrive. They ask me how I feel. I say I feel really good: I have finally had some decent sleep, and the pain has gone. They say I am not ok – my baby will have to be born that morning. For real, this time.

I sob and sob. It is too early, far too early. We were going to have more time. I am given an examination to see if I can deliver naturally, but my cervix is locked shut. A Caesarean it is. Martin holds one hand, a kind doctor another. Both try to reassure me. I ask whether my baby will be born alive. They cannot say. They tell me how ill I am, apparently. I do not remember.

Anaesthetists arrive to explain what will happen. I listen but I do not hear, I am too distressed, and anyway I do not care. A consultant explains the risks of the section: bowel and bladder rupture, the chance of no more babies. I do not care, do whatever you like to me, make sure my baby is ok.

I am wheeled down to theatre. I feel like the worst mother ever: knowing my baby is likely to die so my life can be saved. A strange calm comes over me. I accept that I am unlikely to meet my baby. We will get a dog, and go on a holiday when I am better. Martin and I kiss and cuddle. He is not allowed in theatre with me. I tell him our baby is going to be called Hugo. I liked that name, but we had not been able to agree on a name for our unborn son.

One anaesthetist gives me a fluid to drink to stop my stomach acid rising. I am told to down it in one, like a shot. They are both so kind. But this isn’t going to be a good time. They need to put more needles and lines in me. I am given a sedative so they can do that. That is the last thing I remember.

Hugo is born at 11.20am, weighing just 420 grams. He is ventilated and whisked off to the neonatal unit. Martin is there when I wake up. He tells me Hugo is alive. I give the biggest smile. I do not remember this conversation, nor do I remember him holding my hand while I am wheeled all the way to intensive care, the other end of the hospital.

Hugo on the day he was born

I remember the nurse saying my name, trying to get me to wake up. I have more wires. One in my wrist marked ‘arterial’ to measure my blood pressure. A drain coming out of my tummy. Oxygen prongs up my nose. More magnesium sulphate being pumped in to me.

I just want to know about my baby. I want to see him, to be with him. I am told that day is impossible. I need to rest. There is still danger even after the baby is born. I lost two pints of blood during the section. I am swollen everywhere. I cannot grip anything with my hands. My mum feeds me fruit yogurt, I cannot use a spoon.

A consultant visits to see how I am getting on. Tells me “Sorry we had to do that to you, your organs were about to fail.” “Oh, that’s ok!” I brightly reply. Oh, blissful morphine had taken me even further away with the fairies .

A midwife arrives to express some of my colostrum for Hugo. Precious protection for my little boy. One thing I can do for him.

I feel totally helpless. There are so many beeps and alarms on this ward. I cannot move.

In intensive care

Martin says how amazing Hugo is, a beaming smile. I have photos of him. Precious photos. I want to see him myself. I cannot wait to be with my baby.

Friday morning arrives. I am told I can leave intensive care, and return to maternity high dependency. I will be taken to see Hugo on the way. I cannot wait.

Time ticks away on that Friday. For the previous day and night I had my own dedicated nurse, and now I share her with another patient. They take up most of her time.

I feel alone, helpless, and want to see my baby more than anything else in this world. Why do they not understand?

I ask, so many times. Nurses make calls. A problem with the bed I need. I do not care, I want to see my baby. My baby needs his mummy, I need my baby. No one takes me. No one does anything about it.

By the end of the afternoon I ask the nurse caring for the patient next to me (bizarrely, my nurse’s other patient is at the other end of the ward) if she knows when I will be taken to meet Hugo. I do not remember her exact words, but they were to the effect of “Pipe down, there are other patients much sicker than you on this ward.”

I am so upset. I am in a hospital a long way from home. I do not even know what this hospital looks like. My body has not been my own this week. I need care, compassion, understanding.

Eventually, at around 8.30pm they decide they will take me in a wheelchair to meet Hugo. At last! It is a delicate operation, I am swollen like a Michelin man, I have wires going into me and going out of me. I am not able to move alone, and have not mobilised since the C section. The curtains around my bed are drawn to preserve my modesty.

Some of my beautiful bruises.

Suddenly Martin’s head appears in a gap between the curtains. I am not to worry, he says, but I need to come quickly. I can read the look on his face: there is much to worry about. I make him tell me: Hugo’s blood pressure is declining, and nothing they are doing is working. They are worried they are losing him.

I shriek. Shout at the nurses with their faffing. They are trying to be gentle with me, I know, but I am unspeakably furious at them for the time they have taken to take me to see Hugo. I am terrified he will die before I get there.

The nurse wheels me along the corridor. People get out of the effing way! Don’t they know my baby is dying? The wheelchairs are as bad as supermarket trolleys, she wheels me into obstacles. The pain shoots up in to my stomach wound. Martin takes over.

Cheeky Hugo, kicking away and grabbing his wires.

We get to the neonatal unit. Hugo’s nurse and consultant introduce themselves. They had been frantic, but the little monster’s blood pressure corrected itself the moment I arrived.

Little Hugo Boss knew exactly how to get what he wanted. His mummy.

I shrieked again when I saw him. So small, so red.

The consultant told me to open the porthole, touch him, get my mummy germs on him. I didn’t want to, I thought I would break him, but I did, I reached in with my hand and my son gripped my finger. It was the most amazing moment ever.

So began the most beautiful and the most terrible 33 and a bit days of my life. Hugo lived for 35 days, but I missed a day and a half of it.

A cuddle with Mummy

That was Friday February 21 2014. Ten months ago to the day. There are many parts of the story I do not remember, but the terror of that wheelchair journey and the ecstasy of finally meeting my son are two moments that are etched in my memory forever.

I made a formal complaint: the written reply felt flippant to me, that they did not fully understand the gravity of the situation, the potential implication of their inaction. I met with representatives of the ward a couple of months later and read them the riot act. They will never forget me, nor Hugo. No other mother should experience that. Having HELLP syndrome and everything else that went with it was bad enough. That was unavoidable. My life was saved, Hugo given the best chance. I am grateful for every moment I had with Hugo.

Hugo, Martin and me

But what happened on that ward that day was entirely avoidable.

I have felt a compulsion to write this today. I don’t know why: perhaps I just need to get it out of my head, in a raw, visceral way.

I know I am lucky to be here. The ‘heartburn’ and pain under my ribs was my liver in serious trouble. My kidneys weren’t doing well either. My blood pressure was far too high and my platelet level far too low.

Here I sit, 10 months later. Physically sound, thanks to the actions of the wonderful maternity, obstetric, anaesthetic and pathology teams of two hospitals.

Emotionally, I am still trying to process it. Pregnancy is supposed to be a natural event. I know bad things can happen during pregnancy: babies lost, babies tragically born sleeping. But the placenta turning your body against you? The placenta sending toxins around your body, shutting down your organs. I know now it is not my fault, but it does not prevent me feeling guilty.

HELLP. What a crappy acronym.

There is nothing helpful about it.

It is a difficult thing to get your head around.

Proud Mummy alert: what a beautiful boy!

Share the Word About MatExp!

Don’t call me high risk! #MyPositivePregnancy

by / Birth Trauma, Informed Choice, Pregnancy Complications / Comments Off on Don’t call me high risk! #MyPositivePregnancy

This post was written during my 4th pregnancy, my journey towards a VBA3C. Throughout this pregnancy I was fit and healthy yet classed as high risk due to having had three previous c-sections. 

Don’t call me high risk.

Don’t take heed of the warnings that spew out into the papers at an alarming rate. A VBAC is not a disease, or a dirty word. A woman who has had a c section is not ‘risky business’. I am a woman who wants to give birth to her baby. To feel her baby. To be awake to see her baby take the first breath, open their eyes onto this world and feel their skin against mine. I am a woman who wants to be one of the first people to hold her baby. I am a woman who wants to sit up and hold her baby. To feed her baby with arms that feel the life within. I am a woman who wants to tell the world her baby’s name; not discover it for herself when she wakes.

Don’t call me high risk. Don’t greet my intentions with raised eyebrows and furrowed smiles. Don’t assume that my intentions will not be ‘allowed’. Don’t deny me the chance to be normal for once.

Don'r call me high risk_ my positive pregnancy~ Ghostwritermummy.co.uk

This weekend I came across this article by Milli Hill (@millihill) and I found myself nodding along to almost every word.

When my body screamed out to me that my son was on his way, the ‘High Risk’ label echoed the cry and we called the hospital straight away, as we’d been told. We went straight in, as we were told. We never questioned a thing and we never assumed that we were anything but high risk. The fact that I was labelled as High Risk left me in no doubt- what I was doing was scary. I wanted no part of it. But in actual fact, lots of women have a VBAC, and the fact that we didn’t should not be held against me.

This time, I am a woman striving for a VBA3C. And supposedly higher risk than ever before. And yet I feel more positive this time than I ever have. Whether it is age, experience, or having come to a point of peace with what has gone before, I do not know. But I do not feel scared. I do not feel High Risk. I feel like a woman who passes a mirror and catches sight of her swollen body and smiles, stops to capture the moment; when once I would have collapsed inside.

I feel like a woman with a life growing inside. I feel special. I feel on the edge of something wonderful. I feel strong. Strong enough to question decisions that are made for me. Strong enough to face the fear that I know will come as the weeks pass by. Strong enough to cast aside my label and just be a woman giving birth. For once.

That is my positive pregnancy. It’s taken four attempts to get here and I’m going to hold on to it.

To find out more about #MyPositivePregnancy, #TeamMama and Mama Academy,please click here. You can also read about the Made to Measure campaign here  and if you have a moment, please sign the petition urging all UK trusts to help save 1000 babies by adopting The Perinatal Institute’s GAP programme.

 

Share the Word About MatExp!

IUGR: our journey so far

by / Pregnancy Complications / Comments Off on IUGR: our journey so far

The following post was written on Ghostwritermummy when I was 32 weeks pregnant. Elsie was born at 37 weeks and you can read about her birth, and more about our IUGR journey here.

IUGR

IntraUtarine Growth Restriction.

A baby that is not growing as it should be.

Not just small.

Not just on the last percentile.

Not just the bottom of the average, as some babies must be.

A baby that is not thriving where it should be.

A baby that is deemed to be better out than in.

A baby at risk.

A high risk pregnancy.

An IUGR baby~ ghostwritermummy.co.uk

When I was born, I was SGA. Small for Gestational Age. The doctors sent my mum for an x-ray as they were convinced she had her dates all wrong. I was born one week later, smaller than I should have been. My eldest was SGA. My third baby was SGA. These facts put me at risk for another SGA baby, or for an IUGR baby. For the record, SGA does not mean IUGR, but IUGR babies are all SGA. Still with me?

At my booking in scan, my consultant booked three growth scans for us and gave us a personalised growth chart. No more plotting my baby on the national average. This baby was to be measured according to what is normal for me. This was reassuring, but we were convinced that the growth scans were unnecessary. We’d had them with all three previously, one for each, and were told each time that baby was well. On the smaller side, but healthy and thriving and gaining weight well. We decided that we’d attend the first growth scan, but we’d probably request for the others to be cancelled. The biggest thing was that we wanted a VBAC. So we wanted to do what the doctors seemed to think was important. But if, as we were sure would happen, the doctors agreed that baby was growing well, we felt subsequent growth scans were pretty pointless.

So the first growth scan arrived at just over 29 weeks and from that point onwards everything changed.

IUGR had been mentioned in previous pregnancies, but always dismissed. This time though, we were told that baby might not be ok after all. There was no question that follow up scans would be necessary. Four weekly appointments were changed to two weekly, with a view to reaching 34 weeks gestation. Considering our first two were both born post 40 weeks, the idea of an early baby was a huge shock to us. We’d honestly assumed we’d be told all was ok, that baby was small but perfectly fine. Not so.

The second growth scan was devastating in many ways. It was found that baby was still small, and that blood flow from the cord was reduced. Baby was not receiving enough oxygen. Baby was starving inside of me. Not thriving. Not just small. Not just at the bottom of the percentiles. Not just SGA.

Appointments were amended again, this time to weekly and we were sent home with even more questions than before. We’re still unsure what it all means, and the only thing that is super clear now is that there will be no VBAC. There may be an early baby. There may be special care. There may be health issues later in life. There are so many may bes. There are no certainties.

During all of this, the one thing that has been drilled into me is to monitor baby’s movements closely.

iugr baby_ monitoring_ movements~ ghostwritermummy.co.uk

I have never ever felt concern over this before. Three previous pregnancies and I had always felt confident that baby was well and kicking as it should be. This pregnancy has always been different though, even before we knew anything was wrong. Movements were late; later than previous pregnancies. Movements were scarce for a long time. We put this down to the position of the placenta, and we’re still told that the fact that it’s anterior could be the reason why movements are still not as noticeable as they are supposed to be. Following the second growth scan, I was put onto the monitor and everything seemed fine.

The next scan did not measure growth. Instead the fluid around baby and the flow from the cord was scrutinised, and all found to be within normal parameters. Hooray! Good news, at last. Although the doctors were careful to advise me that weekly scans were still necessary, and that baby was still small. It was also made clear that the results from the scan were normal today and may not be the same next time. Again, I was put on to the monitor to check baby’s movements and although they were definitely reduced from the last time, they were still sufficient enough for me to be allowed home. No decelerations and totally normal readings all round.

And so here we are. Days away from another scan, where I will be 33 weeks and 5 days pregnant. Potentially days away from delivery. The magical 34 week mark. And so many questions.

Is baby really IUGR? Or just SGA? Is 34 weeks really a suitable gestation for delivery? With each week that passes now, the risk of stillbirth increases, and yet there are risks associated with premature birth if they take baby too early. It is still hard for doctors to accurately diagnose and in many cases this can only be done once baby is here. If the birth day is at 34 weeks and baby is not IUGR, the chances of a fast recovery and minimal issues are great. If baby is IUGR, more help will be necessary. So many ifs!

We wait, and yet the waiting is excruciating. People keep saying that the longer they leave it, the more weeks that baby stays in, is better. But there will come a point where that is no longer true. There will come a point where baby is not moving as it should and they will decide to deliver. And I am so scared that they won’t make that decision at the right time.

Share the Word About MatExp!

The #MatExp Lithotomy Challenge

by / MatExp and Me, The #MatExp Journey / 1 Comment

#FabObs Florence Wilcock ensured that her roles as obstetrician and mother blurred a bit more (and took many of her colleagues by surprise) when she did something truly wonderful in terms of making people think, really think about the experience of the women they are caring for. She walked in their shoes, which on this occasion involved taking off her shoes…

 

It is brilliant that Flo has taken the time and trouble to reflect in such detail and share the learning…

Lithotomy challenge graphic

Florence Wilcock writes: For NHS change day I wanted something that made a statement that said “#MatExp has arrived, take notice, we are improving maternity experience, get involved!” I couldn’t quite think of the right action until I saw a twitter exchange with Damian Roland back in December and watched a video where he described his spinal board challenge from NHS Change day, 2014. I had a light bulb moment thinking what would be the maternity equivalent? Lithotomy!

Lithotomy is when we put a woman’s legs up in stirrup; sometimes this can be essential for an assisted birth with forceps or ventouse (suction cup) or if stitching is required. But sometimes we use lithotomy position for normal birth or when stitches are minimal.
Changing times - castor oil2In our #MatExp Whose Shoes? workshops, my favourite card is one based on Gill Phillips’ Mum (now aged 93) being made to take castor oil, despite telling the midwife it would make her sick. And it did. The card asks what is common practice now that will similarly seem wrong or odd in the future: the unanimous answer given at Kingston was lithotomy.

I started to think about whether we use lithotomy more than we should and wondered what does it feel like? Although I have two daughters, they were both born by emergency Caesarean so I do not have personal experience of lithotomy although I know some of my midwifery and consultant colleagues already do. It seemed the perfect challenge. I chose to do try it for one hour as that is a quite realistic time that a woman might be in that position, sometimes it can be less, but sometimes it can be far longer.

I decided to wear a hospital gown and some running shorts as it didn’t feel quite right to do it in normal clothes. The first thing I learnt was that the hospital gown was stiff and itchy, I couldn’t get it to do up properly without assistance and when I had finally tied it I sat down to discover it felt as if I was being strangled by the neck line so had to loosen it off immediately. I adjusted the back of the bed but found it quite hard to swivel round & reach the buttons to do so. We put on a fetal heart monitor which just felt like a normal waistband, a blood pressure cuff and stuck an IV line on my arm. We also used a doll to give me a bump. I know not all women will have all these attachments but many will. During this time Tom, who was going to follow me with the challenge, commented that I looked anxious from my body language before I had even begun and it was true I felt quite apprehensive with all these people running around being aware I was about to be totally in their power as it were.

Flo 1We were finally ready for ‘legs up’! The first thing I discovered with a slight shock was that the stirrups were very cold which I hadn’t expected at all. The other observation was that the people started adjusting my legs without asking me. I thought one leg was going to fall off as the stirrup wasn’t tightly fixed enough and I was in a slightly twisted position which I asked them to adjust. Once that was done I felt reasonably comfortable and relaxed. They took my blood pressure with an automated cuff which was surprisingly painful. I decided to have a breech baby and we took a few photos.

Twenty five minutes in we decided it was time to take the bottom of the bed off which we would do for an assisted birth. I felt immediately more precariously positioned and vulnerable like I might fall off of the bed. The midwives put my legs higher and the bed much higher off the ground which was the right position for delivery without causing them back problems. This felt quite odd to be high up in the air or as one midwife put it ‘face to vagina’ so that she could see what she was doing at eye level! I definitely could not have got down from there unaided especially not when contracting and in pain. A midwife walked into the room with the door & curtain open and I realised I could see all the way down the corridor which meant everyone in the corridor could potentially see me. Obviously this was a simulation but it did emphasise to me even more the importance of closing the door & curtain behind you to maintain privacy.

A series of people then came to talk to me. Our chief executive Kate Grimes popped in for a chat and asked if I was willing for a film crew to come in to which I agreed.  By this point my bottom (sacrum) was getting pretty sore & I had neck ache. I was feeling fairly uncomfortable. My abdomen felt quite compressed and I thought if I was a woman in labour having to push it would probably make me feel quite nauseous.

I was prepared to be filmed and photographed but it was interesting that a number of people walked in and out to look without talking to me. Helen and the presenter introduced themselves to me but the camera man did not and did a series of sound checks over me and proceeded to film without even speaking to me. I am sure it was an oversight but it gave me an amazing sense of being dehumanised and re-emphasised the importance of #hellomynameis.

Flo - Helen & camera crewIn the middle of this Kate Greenstock, our MSLC co-chair arrived. Kate is a doula and came straight to me and asked if I would like a foot massage. Although I thought I was fine, as soon as she asked me I realised actually that I wasn’t fine and here was a person who wasn’t laughing or making a spectacle of me but who actually cared about how I felt. That isn’t to say all the wonderful midwives didn’t but at that moment I felt like Kate and I understood one another and that this was tough and she was ‘on my side’ as it were here to support me.

She gave me a foot massage which was immediately relaxing. I have always understood the importance of support in labour but felt that women could get that from our wonderful midwives and struggled to understand why they wanted a doula too. This experience gave me some inkling of why in some situations a midwife might be focusing on other things and a doula might be able to focus on how the woman is feeling and that alone.

My hour challenge was ticking by and for a short time after the film crew the room emptied out and I was left almost alone. I felt slightly abandoned after such a crowd before and realised if the midwives didn’t come back I was rather stranded in an undignified position. It is not unusual after an assisted delivery for many people to come in and then gradually disappear leaving me as the obstetrician to suture on my own, the midwife popping in and out to get things so in a way this behaviour seemed quite apt.

The midwives returned with a nice plastic baby so that I could have #skintoskin and then my hour was up. The end of the bed was put back in place with the bed rocking as they pushed the parts together and then finally they brought my legs down and it was over.

So what was the impact of me undertaking the lithotomy challenge?

My action has certainly got others thinking and talking. I started tweeting about it in the weeks before change day and challenged a few colleagues.  I’m greatly indebted to Professor Jim Thornton who was the first to accept and kicked off a whole week ahead of NHS Change Day.

I know of at least twelve others who have undertaken the challenge and five more who have promised to. The challenges are spread across 10 organisations so I am hoping for a ripple of conversations as a result. Even those that say ‘no’ learn something from asking themselves the question.
An obvious action as a result is for staff to think about trying to avoid lithotomy altogether. There are a multitude of options for positions and care in labour that we can employ. The Better Births initiative is an ideal example of a resource any midwife can access. Environment is also all important: birthing pools, stools, mats, balls are something tangible people can change. Antenatal education and preparation, both NHS and with our partners in the community, is also vital.

For us obstetricians there are certainly situations in which lithotomy is invaluable and necessary however this challenge has definitely made me think about the consequences of the length of time and how to keep it to a minimum as the position became much more uncomfortable after half an hour. Sometime in the pressure of work, helpful midwives get women ready for us in position before we enter the room and I had not given much thought to the impact of additional time or someone new entering the room when you are already in this position. The careful use of sheets or drapes to minimise exposure was also a topic for discussion.

In conclusion my hope with my challenge is that in each Trust conversations will happen that change practice and via networks and social media good practice will spread. I hope it will have the ‘butterfly effect’ where one small change in one place will result in large differences later.

Share the Word About MatExp!

Birth trauma and PTSD – Raising awareness

by / Birth Trauma, Continuity of Care, Environment and Facilities, Language, Postnatal Care, Pregnancy Complications / Comments Off on Birth trauma and PTSD – Raising awareness

darkest-passages-the-heart-is-unconquerable-dale-pelzer

When people think about post traumatic stress they often think of a soldier, returning from battle traumatised and battered by the ravages of war and the terrible things seen and experienced.

However PTSD doesn’t only affect those affected in the aftermath of war or a terrible natural disaster or violent act. PTSD can also affect someone in circumstances that should be safe, that should be happy, that should be the start of an amazing journey. For some women the birth of their baby can be traumatic and can be a trigger for PTSD that can severely affect their life. It can affect bonding with their baby, relationships with family and friends, doing everyday activities and physical health. So what is birth trauma and PTSD and how can we help and support women that are suffering?

Firstly what is birth trauma?

‘Birth trauma is in the eye of the beholder’ (Cheryl Beck) and this is true. What is traumatic to one woman may not be traumatic to another woman. Each woman’s experience of birth is unique to her and many things can add to a woman feeling her birth was traumatic. For some it maybe that her birth was a truly scary event, she may had been in an emergency situation where her life and that of her baby was at risk. Maybe her labour was very lengthy and very painful. It may be that a woman’s birth had high levels of medical intervention, such as induction, caesarean section, episiotomy, or other medical issues. It may be that a woman gives birth early and her pre-term baby requires care in NICU. Sadly some women have a birth that results in damage or injury to her baby and some lose their babies at birth.

For other women trauma can result from the way she is looked after by the staff responsible for her care both during the birth of her baby but also postnatally. She may feel a loss of control, dignity and privacy. There may have been a lack of information or a woman may feel she wasn’t listened to and her choices not respected or overlooked. She may feel she had medical procedures done without her consent or without proper explanation or that she was left with no choice. Or maybe unkind, cruel words and actions made her feel vulnerable and exposed.

Some women find birth triggers or adds to previous trauma such as rape or domestic abuse.

Often women who feel traumatised from their birth will feel isolated, other women may not understand why she feels traumatised, after all isn’t childbirth a ‘natural thing’? So a woman can feel guilty and somehow ‘weaker’ than other women for being unable to ‘cope’ with birth . She may feel she should be over the ‘birth’ and often well meaning friends and family will say things such as “at least you are ok and you have a healthy baby”. This only confounds the woman’s feelings and makes her feel more isolated and can damage relationships with partners, family members and friends as a woman feels no one understands and so she withdraws deeper into the trauma. Depending on the nature of the trauma a woman may feel unable to have further medical tests such as smear tests. Sex may also be affected as a woman may fear further pregnancies, or even just the act of physical intimacy itself. Many women who suffer birth trauma may struggle to bond with their baby, others become overly anxious of their babies health and wellbeing and constantly worry about every aspect of caring for their newborn.

For a woman that has lost a baby during birth or whose baby has been injured during birth she may experience overwhelming guilt, she may feel like it is her fault that she somehow failed her baby or that she should somehow have prevented it. She may play over and over again the birth in her head seeking answers or ways she could have changed the outcome.

Feeling like they have no voice, are misunderstood and weak many women will seek to hide their true suffering and ‘carry on’, the weight of trauma bearing down on them crushing hope, light and happiness as they try desperately to cling to normality. Everyday tasks become hard and just coping day to day can feel overwhelming. Their physical health too may suffer, as the effects of trauma ravage them mentally. Lack of sleep, trouble eating and the constant struggle all takes its toll. Flashbacks may take them back to the event reliving moments, even smells and conversations causing great distress and anxiety.

So what is PTSD and how does it differ from postnatal depression?

Often women can be wrongly diagnosed with PND when in reality they have PTSD.  While PTSD and PND can overlap as they do have some similar symptoms, they are very different. Its important that a woman receives a correct diagnose so she can have the support, help and therapies she needs. PTSD is the clinical term for a set of normal reactions to a traumatic, scary or bad experience or event. It can occur after a person experiences or witnesses something that was or they perceive to have been life-threatening.

Signs of PTSD include:

  • Feelings of intense fear, helplessness and/or terror.
  • The re-experiencing of the event by recurrent intrusive memories, flashbacks and/or nightmares. The individual will usually feel distressed, anxious or panicky when exposed to anything which remind them of the event.
  • Avoidance of anything that reminds them of the trauma. This can include talking about it, the place where the trauma happened or people that may have been involved in the trauma. (such as hospitals, doctors, healthcare professionals) Even T.V programs or books maybe avoided.
  • Bad memories and flash backs often result in difficulties with sleeping and concentrating, thus affecting daily activities. Sufferers may also feel angry, irritable and be hyper-vigilant or jumpy, easily startled.
  • Suffers may suffer panic attacks, depression and anxiety. They may feel detached, alone and have a sense of something bad may happen to them or their loved ones.

It is important to remember that PTSD is beyond the sufferer’s control. It is the mind’s way of trying to make sense of an extremely scary traumatic experience and are not a sign of an individuals ‘weakness’ or inability to cope. The person cannot just ‘get over it’ or ‘pull themselves together’ or ‘move on’. Rather they need help and support to process not only what has happened to them but also the feelings surrounding it.

So what can help a woman who has suffered birth trauma or PTSD?

For partners, family and friends its important to acknowledge what has happened to the women and her feelings surrounding it. Encourage her to talk about her feelings if she is able to. Help her to see you want to try to understand how she is feeling and that you recognise how traumatised she may feel.  Reassure her that you are there for her and that you will help in anyway you can. You maybe the only person that she trusts. Encourage, commend show compassion and empathy. Emotional support is invaluable, even if it’s just a listening ear or a hug. Realise that there may be things or activities that she may not yet feel ready to do, be patient and show understanding.

Encourage her to get help, whether it be her GP, health visitor, midwife or a charity such as the Birth Trauma association or Mind. This will not be easy as she may have a fear and distrust of telling anyone how she really feels especially a healthcare professional. Reassure her of your support, maybe offering to attend any appointments with her if she wishes. Asking for help will be hard, and so will the time undergoing any therapies being there for her providing emotional support is so important.

Also, helping with daily activities can mean so much, helping her get much needed rest offering to prepare a meal, or to do some shopping can also be invaluable.

Helping someone with PTSD can be difficult and frustrating.Partners and family can feel lost and confused too. Reading up on PTSD can help you understand it and how it can affect someone that is suffering.

Of course some partners too can feel traumatised and suffer from PTSD after seeing the birth of their baby. It is important they too seek help and support.

What about healthcare professionals?

Its important that any healthcare professional’s when supporting a woman after birth build a relationship built on trust. LISTEN, this is the single most important thing to a woman who is suffering. Listening enables you to truly know what she has been through, how she is feeling and whats important to her and her family.  Listening will enable you to know if she is likely to be suffering PTSD or any other perinatal mental health disorder. Listen also to her partner and family, they know her best, if they feel something isn’t right or reach out for your support then be there.  Ask for training in order to help you understand the different types of perinatal mental health issues and know the pathways and any local support available to signpost a women to.  Be careful of language used and do not minimise her feelings or experience.  If you know a woman has had a traumatic birth from postnatal notes etc, ASK, don’t ignore it.

What can a woman who has had birth trauma/PTSD do for herself?

  • Speak to someone, partner, family, friends, midwife, health visitor, GP. Don’t suffer in silence.
  • Remember you are not alone, there are others too that have been affected by birth trauma.
  • Remember you are not to blame.
  • Look after yourself, make sure you rest and eat a good balanced diet. Do things, activities that help you to relax.
  • Know your limitations and what you can do both physically and emotionally.
  • Speak to your hospital about your experience. Some women ask to see their medical notes and discuss exactly what happened to them and why.
  • Seek help and treatment. There are various treatments for PTSD such as counselling, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) and medication.
  • Find local support groups or support groups on social media (such as birth trauma facebook support page)

Birth trauma is real and so is PTSD, its important that women get the help and support they need to overcome it. The birth of her baby can affect a woman for the rest of her life, it may not be possible to completely prevent birth trauma but what we can do is support women when things do go wrong and make sure that we show them love, compassion, kindness and help even at the darkest times so they believe that it will be possible to bathe in light again.hafiz-quote1

my story of birth trauma

Emma Jane Sasaru

@ESasaruNHS

Share the Word About MatExp!

What is a ‘Positive’ birth?

by / Birth Trauma, Continuity of Care, Environment and Facilities, Informed Choice, Postnatal Care / Comments Off on What is a ‘Positive’ birth?

The experience of birth will stay with a woman her whole life time

Ask any women her birth story and she will recount it with easy, there is no experience that can compare to bringing a tiny baby into the arms of a loving family. The effects of a birth experience will stay with a woman her whole life , it can effect her subsequent births, her health, her relationships, sometimes for the rest of her life.

So what is a positive birth? What can we do to help women have a positive birth?

As with all things in life choice is very important and this is no different when it comes to birth. Choice is so important for women and should be the foundation of any birth. Women should be aware of their choices and what is available for them. Is there a midwife led unit she can use? Will she be able to have a home birth? What about free birthing? Can she elect to have a cesarean section? These are all things a woman may wish to consider when choosing how to have her baby. Consider how much thought may go into the purchase of a pram. I know couples that have spent months researching and looking at all the different prams available. Shouldn’t we be helping and making sure that just as much thought and research is going into the choices for birth?

What’s also important is accurate evidence based information that will enable a women to make an informed choice. How far from a hospital is she if she chooses a home birth? What are the risks of a cesarean section and the results for future pregnancies? What actually is free birthing? Why has it been recommended to have the baby in a hospital? By good communication and giving accurate information women can be helped to make a informed choice that is right for them and their baby.

So what makes a birth positive?

Think about a day or an event that you enjoyed lately that you view as positive. What made it positive? Maybe it was who was there, or the place you went or what you did. Does a positive event mean that it always goes to plan with everything prefect? No, sometimes even when things don’t go to plan they are still positive. Will everyone have the same view of what is positive and does everyone view the same experiences as positive? Chances are what you find positive someone else wont. So when it comes to birth it is very individual. Every woman has her own view of what a positive birth is.

Picture for a moment a woman, she was desperately looking forward to the birth of her baby, however something went wrong and her beautiful baby was born sleeping. Now she is pregnant again, she is racked with fear, anxiety fills every day as she worries about the safety of her baby. She desires control, needs reassurance of medical staff and the technology they process. For this woman her choice for her birth is a cesarean, her baby delivered, well and alive in a controlled way, at her choosing. As her baby is lifted from her body and she hears the cry of her newborn baby relief, joy and hope fills her heart. This is her positive birth.

Now picture a woman whose previous birth was traumatic an emergency cesarean with much medical interventions. Her recovery was long and feeding was difficult. But this time she wishes to stay at home as long as she can. She wants to trust her body to birth her baby and believe that she can safely bring her little one into the world. She wants calmness and solitude and as little intervention as possible. So she hires a doula that supports her at home till the journey to hospital.  Once there in a room thats dark and quiet, with time and the support of her partner she births her baby on all fours into her own hands and she feels at peace. This is her positive birth.

Then there’s the woman that is terrified of birth, of hospitals and doctors. Abused as a child she has trouble trusting people. Yet tears are streaming down her face as she holds her newborn baby, with her is a midwife she trusts and she feels safe in the beautiful room of her local midwife lead unit. Around her are her things that bring her comfort and peace. Her favourite song is playing as the warm waters of birth pool lap around her soothing her tired body. This is her positive birth.

A positive birth will be different for every woman, what matters is what birth means to her. It’s important that a woman’s choice is supported and her wishes understood and as far as possible she is able to have the birth she wishes.

Of course sometimes things don’t go as planned and the birth a woman wants and has planned may not happen. However we can still make sure that it is positive. How?

Firstly communication. Always should a woman know what is happening and why. Explaining what is happening gives the woman confidence and builds trust with those who are caring for her. Understanding the things happening too her will easy anxiety and lessen fear. Don’t forget communication means listening too!

Secondly choice. No matter what is happening the woman still should be given choices. Allowing a woman to have choice even in difficult situations means we give control back to her and her birth.

Thirdly, dignity, respect and compassion feed positivity. Always should a woman feel that she has been treated with dignity by everyone around her. Small things like asking before doing checks and saying please and thank you go a long way. A woman should never be judged or labeled. Respect should be shown her and her choices and her concerns and fears. It maybe that her choices are difficult for us to understand but still they are hers and we must respect them. Never should a woman be spoken to unkindly or her needs ignored.

What about Compassion?

‘Compassion is the emotion that one feels in response to the suffering of others that motivates a desire to help. Compassion is really the act of going out of your way to help physical, spiritual, or emotional hurts or pains of another’

Compassion should move those who support a woman in birth to go out of their way to help her.  She is someone’s wife, sister, daughter, she has her own story, feelings, needs, fears, concerns. Care should be individual for each woman taking into account her personality, her background, her current situation. This may sound like an impossible task but is it? Ask yourself if it was you what would you want? More importantly as we said at the outset if the way a woman births stays with her her whole life time then we must do everything we can to make her birth positive. so that she looks back on it and remembers that those around her did everything they could to make her feel loved. images (15)

Emma Jane Sasaru

@ESasaruNHS

Share the Word About MatExp!

The many faces of birth

by / About MatExp, Continuity of Care, Informed Choice, Language, Postnatal Care / Comments Off on The many faces of birth

Natural-Childbirth-tips-for-Pregnant-Women

Ive seen lately many discussions on birth and it got me thinking. Birth has many faces and no one situation prevails, it is as individual to each woman, baby and family as a fingerprint. Often things such a ‘risk’, ‘normal’ and ‘natural’ are mentioned along with ‘informed choice’ and ‘statistics’. All this can be banded about and yet is birth really that simple?

Of course the answer is no, birth can be very straight forward but it can also be very complicated and so providing care, support while respecting individual choice can be difficult. What do I mean?

Well I can see there are many faces to birth. Firstly the ‘positive natural’ side of birth that we hear so much about. As I trained as a doula I learnt so much about the human body its ability to birth and ways that a woman can help herself during the stages of labouring. I truly believe that giving birth can be a wonderful, momentous, truly beautiful event during which a woman can, by listening to her body, birth her baby safely anywhere she wishes. In fact women have been doing exactly that for thousands of years. There are many things women find helpful while in the stages of labour such as hypnotherapy, relaxation techniques, massage as well as the right environment and support. Providing information for women and helping them believe in themselves and their bodies is very important. This is often not always the case in antenatal classes where much emphasis can be on pain relief and types of interventions rather than working with your body, by keeping active etc.

However, working with women who have experienced birth trauma I also see that we must be cautious. Why?

When birth goes well and is the experience a woman hoped for it is amazing. Many times however I have heard women say that when things have not gone to plan or birth has taken a different journey to the one they had envisioned they have felt like a failure. When her baby comes early, or a labour becomes complicated, when hypnobirthing hasn’t worked or when a women hasn’t been able to give birth vaginally and birth ends in a caesarean she may feel her body has failed her. I have personally heard many women voice that they feel let down, that the reality of birth wasn’t explained to them and that they felt unprepared and almost lulled into a false sense of security believing that their birth would go to plan if they just believed it and nature would do the rest. This however doesn’t always happen, birth sometimes takes a different turn, or a woman may not manage labour like she thought she would. Sometimes there is medical complications or emergencies. When a woman doesn’t have the birth she wanted then comments like ‘whats wrong with me’ or ‘why did I fail’, ‘what what did I do wrong’ or ‘I regret my birth’ often are said. This can then result in the pursuit of the ultimate ideal birth. Or for some women it can result in a feeling of despair and sometimes trauma.

So how do we empower women but also at the same time not give a unrealistic view of birth?

The key here is knowledge that is evidence based but also realistic and takes into account each woman, her wishes, her choices but also her history, previous births and health.

We also must never put one form of birth on a pedestal as the ultimate to be achieved and as a sort of goal or prize to be attained. Why are women that have laboured for hours, attempting to birth vaginally but going on to have caesareans feeling like failures? In fact why is any woman who has had a baby feeling like failure? When did it happen that one way of birth equals success and another failure? I read recently a women asking for support after going on a facebook page where women were discussing the length of their labours and competing with each other on how long they laboured before they accepted any pain relief. The woman in question had suffered a long labour, then a episiotomy, then forceps, then a caesarean because her baby was firmly wedged and in distress. Why was she seeking support? Because she felt a failure for having accepted pain relief during her labour.

I feel like a failure

Women are then often let down after birth, when birth hasn’t gone as planned women are told “you have a healthy baby, thats all that matters” but this is not true. Birth has a profound effect upon a woman and her family, there must be support after. Emotionally it can take time to process birth and with a new baby to care for it can be overwhelming. Expectations abound as does advice. Time spent with a women reflecting on her birth can be invaluable, sometimes there can be so much emphasis on the birth itself that little time is given to thinking about after. Especially where birth has been traumatic is it important that it is acknowledged and support be offered. Reflecting on good experiences is also important as it enables learning what helps and supports a woman and helps improve care given. Its important that women know it is ok to be disappointed with their birth experience but it doesn’t mean that their birth was any less an amazing event.

This brings me on to another side of birth, the medical side and in particular healthcare professionals.

To be fair those that care for women often come in for a lot of criticism. Sometimes this is justified, I myself had very poor care after the birth of my daughter, however many are trying hard under very difficult circumstances to provide care in birth that is kind, compassionate and patient centred. Empowering women can be hard in a hospital environment. Rooms are often bright, clinical areas with lots of equipment with many staff coming and going. Language often used such as ‘failure to progress’ or ‘allowed’ does little to build confidence. Midwife led units while providing the lovely environment for birth and being available for things like water births often have such strict guidelines that few women qualify to use them. Even if women do qualify at the slightest issue they are often transferred to hospital causing anxiety and concern. At a recent support group nearly all the moms there said they had started labouring in a MLU but was transferred over to hospital. They all stated they would not try to use a MLU again as they felt there was no point as they would likely just be transferred over.

What is the reason for this almost ‘over concern’?

Im not a midwife or an obstetrician but I would imagine that being responsible for the safe birth of a baby is a heavy responsibility. No one wants anything to go wrong or a women or her baby to suffer any problems. However birth can be risky and unpredictable and so in the hast to make it as safe as possible it has in many ways become over medicalised. Rather than risk injury or death of a women or her baby doctors or midwives may err on the side of caution preferring to monitor and whisk baby out at any sign of a problem. Having procedures and policies in place makes staff feel safe and processing medical training they may see things from a very different angle to the family they are caring for. Add into this the risk of litigation when things do go wrong and it can be a mix that doesn’t allow for much movement. A woman may make a choice on her birth but if things go wrong doctors and staff may still face questioning and litigation. It may also be hard to accept that a woman is indeed making an informed choice if it seems to go against the very medical guidelines that have been set in place to keep her safe. Because of this much of the ‘natural’ way of birthing has been lost in a sea of trying to make everything ‘safe’ by checks more checks and even more checks. Of course for some this has meant the saving of their life or that of their baby, however for others it has meant they haven’t had the birth experience they wanted.

No one wants anything to go wrong

If a women came to you as a doctor requesting a vaginal birth after multiple complicated pregnancies that had resulted in caesareans likely the answer you would jump to would be to advise against it. Everything you know, have experienced, and trained for, as well as all the polices and guidance around you would be screaming in your head that this was not the best idea for this woman. But what if that was that woman’s desire and choice? What if she felt informed and educated. What if she felt she was aware of the risks?

Which leads onto another face of birth.

How far do we feel women should be able to ‘choose’ how they give birth? When everything is clearly pointing to great risk to her and her baby, or if pursuing that choice could have the potential to cause issues how do we then support a woman in her choice, showing respect and dignity but at the same time mitigate risk? Do we allow a woman to birth as she wishes knowing that it may not be safe for her and her baby?

There may be no clear answer to this and this is where the waters become muddy. It is true that a woman has the choice and control of her own body and baby. But also those caring for her have a responsibility too. Informed choice must truly be that, an informed choice. As women the onus is upon us to make sure that we truly are educating ourselves on birth before making a choice. That includes not only the way to help our bodies birth our babies but also to make sure we are prepared for the situations when that may not be possible. As women we should not try to live up to any ‘ideals’ of what a birth should or shouldn’t be. It is your birth, it is your body, it is your family, does it really matter what anyone else has or hasn’t done? Of course not every woman does this or wishes to do this and is happy to follow the recommendations of her doctor for her care, trusting that they know what is best for her and her baby. Again that must be respected and should not be looked down upon or a woman made to feel guilty because she has chosen to do so. We must also remember that we are then responsible for our choices and so its important that we truly are making a choice that is informed and evidence based.

Likewise those that care for women must be mindful of the woman. Communication is the key. Finding out what her choices are, why she has chosen certain things. Look at a woman as a whole person with her own thoughts, ideas, needs, wants and desires. This is very challenging and may seem impossible. But only by doing so can correct information and support be given that relates to that women and her circumstances. Language is very important as is respecting choice. It can be easy to say ‘but that’s what we have always advised, suggested’, but challenge your knowledge and seek to always learn more and improve care given. Fear of litigation is very real however that fear can lead to being over cautious, leaving no room for choice or movement or consideration of  individual requests. Also important is consent. No matter what the situation it is very important that a woman gives consent. Ive lost count of the amount of women who have voiced that they had procedures done to them during birth that they did not consent to but felt they had no choice. Communicating why, and making sure that a woman fully understands and consents to anything done to her cannot be overly stated.

Birth may have many faces, the woman, her family, those that care for her and other women and their experiences, but what matters is the woman herself. Teamwork, communication, consent and dignity all play a part. Women and staff who care for a women need a good relationship built on trust.

Failure has no place in birth, because no woman fails but only does her best in the circumstances she finds herself in. Birth is not a competition or a race, it isn’t the same journey for any two women in fact for any two babies. Birth is individual, wonderful and breathtaking, sometimes it can be difficult and heartbreaking but, if women are at the centre, if a women are the motive, the passion, the love, then everyone will always strive to make every woman’s birth the best it can be for HER, no matter what that may be, because for every women that will be something different.

As women yes believe in yourself and your body and your ability to birth your baby, but also be prepared that sometimes things don’t go to plan. That doesn’t mean your choices are gone, or that you have failed or that your experience is somehow less than anyone else’s. It just means your birth journey changed but with help, support and care it can still be a beautiful journey.

find-joy-in-the-journey-quote-1

Emma Jane Sasaru

@ESasaruNHS

 

Share the Word About MatExp!

Why the wonderful #matexp has given me hope

by / About MatExp, Birth Trauma, Informed Choice, MatExp and Me, The #MatExp Journey / Comments Off on Why the wonderful #matexp has given me hope

believe-quotes-11

Imagine, a consultant, a midwife, a doula, a support worker, a commissioner, a campaigner and a mother all coming together to help support and improve maternity services for all women and their families.

Wonderful you may say, but will this really ever happen you may wonder? The answer is yes!

#MatExp is a wonderful grassroots campaign using the Whose Shoes?® approach to help identify and help improve our national maternity services. By means of workshops in local hospitals users of maternity services are brought together with others to join conversations about their experiences of maternity care and share what really made a difference to them personally and their experience and talk about ways that care can be improved. These workshops enable health care professionals (in and beyond the NHS) and local communities to listen and work in partnership with women and their families to find ways to improve local and national maternity services. Anyone can take part whether your a maternity service user, partner, community group or NHS staff, from chief executive to volunteer all are welcome to attend and share. Also on twitter using the hashtag #Matexp there are many amazing people sharing personal stories, experiences, achievements and ways they are actively trying to improve care both in there local hospitals but nationally too.

I personally have been involved in a #Matexp campaign for NHS change day. It was action 5 – ‘life with a new baby’ as breastfeeding champion along with the lovely Helen Calvert. Personally for me #Matexp has been really wonderful and something im proud to be part of. After suffering poor care with my first birth and subsequent birth trauma and PTSD, #Matexp has given me hope.

Hope that things can change.

Hope that women will be the centre of maternity care.

Hope that the culture of birth and our maternity services will improve.

Hope that the voices of women will finally be heard.

As part of #Matexp I have made contact with some amazing people such a Flo, Gill, Rachel and Helen as well as fantastic midwives such as Jenny and mothers such as Leigh. All are doing amazing things to improve services for women often after personal experiences. Knowing that there are so many people who genuinely want to work to improve services and make care better and who truly value women has helped me heal and also restored my belief in maternity care. It has given me the opportunity to to tell my story and then feel part of improving things to make care given better for others something I am so passionate about. It has also given me confidence to be bold and change things in my own job and NHS trust as I feel supported by some amazing people. Seeing their successes has spurred me on and helped me believe that we can all make a difference.

More importantly #Matexp has given me hope. Hope that one day we will provide a maternity experience that is individualised, respectful, gives dignity and allows for informed choice. That puts a woman, her baby, her family and their needs first. It will mean birth experiences that do not result in trauma but that even under difficult circumstances will make a woman feel loved, protected and supported. Yes I have hope, because finally not only has my voice been heard but the voices of women everywhere will be heard, no matter who they are, what they do, or what choices they made. Why is this so important, because your birth experience stays with with you the good and the bad, it can have a profound effect on you as a family as you start on your journey as parents. All women, babies and families are special and deserving of the best maternity care possible. So join in, get involved and share your stories and your ideas. There’s exciting times a head in #Matexp and together we can make a difference.
BillGatesQuote-690x1024

Emma Jane Sasaru

@ESasaruNHS

Share the Word About MatExp!

#MatExp and NHS change day – a call to action to support Breastfeeding

by / About MatExp, Feeding, Informed Choice / Comments Off on #MatExp and NHS change day – a call to action to support Breastfeeding

IMG_5199

Helen Calvert and I are the breastfeeding champions for the NHS Change Day #MatExp campaign. What on earth does that mean I hear you ask? It means that we have the privilege of being part of a powerful grassroots campaign using the Whose Shoes?® approach to identify and share best practice across the nation’s maternity services and look at ways we can improve these services for women and their families. The campaign has already been triggering discussions about what needs to improve to make sure women and their families have the care that is right for them. You can read all about it here: http://changeday.nhs.uk/campaigns/matexp/

There are 8 existing #MatExp Change Day actions, and we are focusing on #MatExp5 – Life With A New Baby, and in particular breastfeeding: http://changeday.nhs.uk/campaigns/matexp/matexp-improving-maternity-experience-just/

Anyone familiar with this blog will know that I suffered birth trauma with my first daughter and I am very passionate about improving maternity and perinatal care for women and their families that is patient centred and supportive of their choices. I work as a breastfeeding peer support worker for the NHS helping families in Neonatal, hospital and community. I also volunteer for the BfN and am a trained Doula. I write my blog to raise awareness of birth trauma and Perinatal mental health, reduce stigma and help others. I am passionate about supporting women in their breastfeeding journey especially those that have had pre-term babies. You can read about my story here http://changeday.nhs.uk/story35/

Helen started the #hospitalbreastfeeding campaign on Twitter following her experiences of breastfeeding her younger son, David, who has a congenital heart defect. This campaign led to the launch of Helen’s website, http://www.heartmummy.co.uk, which has key messages to help medical professionals to understand what’s in it for them when it comes to supporting breastfeeding in wards and departments. It provides much needed information to help healthcare professionals provide support to breastfeeding mom’s especially with sick vulnerable babies. Helen tirelessly campaigns to raise awareness for families with children who have a heart defect and also to support moms in their breastfeeding journey.

So what is it that we would like you to do?

Well, firstly, why not log an action on the NHS Change Day website, where “we give ourselves permission to make the changes we can make, share them, and inspire others”? What’s lovely is this is for anyone. Most of us come into contact with women and babies, so simple things like a simple smile to a new mother or a kind word or deed can make a difference.

If you are working in maternity services or are passionate about supporting women and their families and are going to log an action, do so under the #Matexp campaign. There are a few actions to choose from, why not go for something that will make a change to the breastfeeding experience of UK families? Actions can be as simple as you like, what matters is they are personal to you.

Here are our suggestions, and how to log your action. Your action could be to:

  1. Look outside of the NHS for breastfeeding information to use to support families.[Best beginnings, BfN, UNICEF, ABM, La Leche League, kellymom, Dr Jack Newman etc.]
  2. Always remember that breastfeeding is more likely to be possible than impossible. Just keep this in mind every day and see how it changes your approach to families who want to breastfeed.
  3. Follow the RCN’s guidelines for supporting breastfeeding on paediatric wards: http://www.rcn.org.uk/__data/assets/pdf_file/0017/270161/003544.pdf
  4. Download and share the posters from heartmummy.co.uk – simple messages and guidance explaining how breastfeeding can be a key part of a child’s medical care.
  5. Support all families to make an informed choice by giving accurate evidence based information regarding breastfeeding.
  6. Encourage each other to support a mom whatever her feeding choice.
  7. Help the wards/places we work in to reach out/work towards Unicef baby friendly accreditation. Use the resources they provide and makes sure the culture reflects those standards.
  8. Not to use the term Breast is Best, but seek to normalise breastfeeding as the biological norm.
  9. Always introduce yourself #hellomynameis and explain who you are and your role. Be friendly, give of your time, listen and remember that each is an individual trying hard to do the best for their babies. Smile!
  10. Think about language, what we say matters. Make sure we are not undermining breastfeeding, causing a woman to doubt her ability to care for her baby.

To log your action go to : http://changeday.nhs.uk/campaigns/matexp/ scroll down and click on the light bulb that says action. Then follow the instructions. Put #MatExp5 in the title of your action to link it to our area of the campaign if you would like to, and don’t forget to tweet and share your action once you’ve written it!

Also you can join or set up one of the maternity workshops that are going to be running around the country. These workshops give the opportunity for all, whether staff or service users, to engage, share ideas, and look at ways to improve our maternity services.

What are we hoping to achieve?

When we spoke to women a few core things became clear, they wanted clear consistent advice on breastfeeding, good support in hospital and lots of encouragement and support. They spoke about respect for their choices and not having things forced on them by healthcare professionals and how sometimes all the wanted was for someone to say “well done’.

The standard of care we see in our maternity units needs to improve. To do this we must all work together, staff and service users, men and women. We all want women and families to be supported in their choices and have the best possible care. The maternity experience a woman has can stay with her all her life, as can the support she receives to feed her baby. We owe it to women and their families to make a change. What matters is real people, real families and real lives. Women should be equal partners in their maternity care their voices need to be heard so that the maternity experience meets individual needs. Dignity and respect must govern all we do. Maybe we can only make small changes or pledge small actions, but when they all join up together that means big changes for women, for families, for us all.

Thank you Emma and Helen

Emma’s change day action: http://changeday.nhs.uk/user_action/ive-got-involved-in-the-matexp-actions/

Helens change day action: http://changeday.nhs.uk/user_action/matexp5-encouraging-support-for-breastfeeding-on-childrens-wards/

 

Share the Word About MatExp!

1 … 7 8 9 10 11