Jordan’s Birth Story
After a few scans showed that our baby was measuring small and reduced movements became a concern, my husband and I were recommended to have an induction of labour. It wasn’t what we had envisioned, and we felt uncertain about taking that path. But after speaking with two different consultants and weighing everything up together, we made the decision to go ahead with the induction.
Shifting my mindset was key. This wasn’t how I had pictured birth, but I felt confident in our choice. At 37+6, I went in for induction, knowing it might be a long process—and it was. I didn’t give birth until 38+2, after four days of waiting, walking, and wondering when things would finally pick up.
The first step was two rounds of pessary, spaced 24 hours apart. The first one did absolutely nothing. The second got me to 1cm dilated, but my cervix was still high. The process was slow, but my husband and I made the most of it. We soaked up the last moments of just the two of us—playing games, reading, going on slow walks around the hospital. There were times when we felt impatient, eager for things to move along, but the staff on the labour ward were the perfect balance of being there when we needed them while also giving us space.
After the pessary, I had two rounds of gel hormones to keep things moving. With the second round, we started discussing the next steps with the medical team. My midwife explained that if my waters couldn’t be broken, the next step would be dilapan rods. We took time to read up on it, asked loads of questions, and agreed that if needed, we’d go ahead with rods.
When it came time for the next examination, I felt hopeful—and so did my midwife. I was 2–3cm dilated, but my cervix was still high. She wasn’t confident she’d be able to break my waters, so we agreed to go ahead with rods. Since they needed be inserted by senior midwife, we had to wait a little while for her to be available, and in the meantime, we were moved to a different room. That change deflated me a bit, and I started to second-guess everything—were we making the right choices?
My husband and birth partner reassured me, reminding me why we were here and what we were working toward. Finally, the head midwife arrived, examined me, looked at both of us, and said, “It’s go time. I can break these waters.” A tiny walk down the corridor had apparently done the trick! With that, my waters were broken, and I was put on the hormone drip to encourage contractions.
As things started progressing, there was a shift change. I was sad to see my midwife go, and at this point, I felt incredibly vulnerable. A new midwife took over, and though I found her a little cold at first, we gradually warmed up to each other.
At first, I was determined to go without an epidural. It wasn’t part of my plan—I wanted to move freely, stay in tune with my body. But by this point, I had been in the hospital for three days, and I was emotionally drained. After weighing everything up, I decided to go for it. It was probably one of the hardest decisions I made throughout labour—I was really torn—but looking back, I don’t regret it. The epidural gave me the rest I needed overnight, and I could still feel contractions enough to stay connected to my body.
Through the night, my midwife observed me quietly every hour, barely noticeable but always present. She respected our space, my headspace, and was attentive without being intrusive.
Morning came, and before leaving for shift change, my midwife offered to check me one last time.
To her surprise and mine—I was 10cm dilated. I was ready to push.
At this point, I could feel each contraction—not strongly, but subtly—which gave me a lot of comfort. I wanted to feel in control, and because I could still feel my legs, I was able to labour in positions that felt natural and comfortable.
The shift change happened, and to my relief, the midwife I had the day before returned. That was a huge comfort to both me and my husband. She talked us through what would happen, prepared the room, and explained when and why the emergency button might need to be used. She was incredible.
About 30 minutes later, I started pushing. Another 30 minutes—and 21 pushes—our baby, Reuben, was here. My husband is a numbers guy, so of course, he kept count!
My midwife and her student were amazing—so supportive, so present. After delivery, though, things escalated quickly.
The emergency button had to be pulled for both Reuben and me—I was bleeding heavily, and Reuben was breathing with a grunt.
Within seconds, the room was full of people. That could have been overwhelming, but because my midwife had taken the time to explain exactly what would happen if the emergency button was pressed, I knew what to expect. She even warned me before pressing it.
Even in that urgent moment, I still felt a sense of control because I knew what was happening. I couldn't do anything physically, but I felt calm despite the chaos.
Reuben was quickly taken next door, while the team took care of me. Thankfully, it was handled quickly, and we were both stable soon after.
This wasn’t the birth I had envisioned—but it was still a positive experience.
Yes, things didn’t go to plan, but I felt heard, supported, and respected. Even in emergency situations, I felt autonomy and control because I was kept informed every step of the way.
Birth is unpredictable, and while I had to make decisions I never thought I would, I look back on Reuben’s birth feeling strong, empowered, and so grateful for the team who supported us.